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Home Camp

2010 Hunt Reports and Photos of All Bucks

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Also Please Note: Hunt reports are posted in reverse order with the most recent hunt at the top of the page. To follow our season in chronological order, scroll to the bottom and work your way to the top.

Hunt Z January 26 - 30

Back earlier in the season when our inventories showed more bucks than hunters, a late-season hunt was created to try to balance the books. Thankfully, eight hunters signed up, and as it turned out, it was a heck of a way to end the 2010 season.

The first two who booked were long-time Home Camp veterans from Florida - Bill Boyette from Tallahassee and Bruce Dennington from Ft. Myers. You might call Bill a "Super Veteran". When he was in camp, we were able to find his picture in both our 1989 and 1990 albums. Bill has been here several times since that long-ago time. Bruce has hunted here a half-dozen times during the past few years.

Carlisle, PA hunters, Glenn Wise and Tim Miller, have hunted the McManus Camp for a number of years, but this was their first visit to the Home Camp. They were accompanied by Glenn's long-time friend, Bob Putt, from nearby Mt. Holly Springs. Bob also hunted the McManus Camp a couple of times.

With these five on board, the darndest thing happened: a father/son pair booked and it was learned that they, too, live right there in Carlisle, PA. Naturally, we got both groups acquainted, and as it turned Jim Heberlig, Sr and Jim, Jr. elected to drive to Texas while the other three flew. The driving pair was kind enough to haul guns and gear for the other three. What a deal.

The eighth hunter was Larche Watters from Benton, LA. He and the two Heberligs were the only Adobe Lodge rookies, the rest being multi-year veterans.

Late January hunting is almost always characterized by a couple of things: hunters see mostly bucks at the corn feeders, and it is a challenge to find a buck with un-damaged antlers. Although laying in a supply of venison was a high priority for most of the hunters, finding those old, long-nosed does was hard to do. Six were finally taken. All but one were plenty big and fat.   Encouraging news in this dry winter. Looks like the old girls are getting along just fine, thank you, and will be in good shape come fawning time.

The harvest started off at a run and we had four bucks on the tally board by the end of the first quarter of play. This being the final hunt of the season, and still having a few extra bucks in our inventory, second bucks were being offered, in the event that a butter-melter showed up after that first buck had been taken.

Glenn Wise wasn't too pleased with his first buck. Something about getting bucks confused and taking the wrong one - a not-infrequent story around the hunting camp.  Even so, that first one was a most unique buck, as you will see in the photos below. We rarely ever see a deer with any kind of piebald markings, but this one had a mosaic pattern around the rear part of his mid-section.

And Glenn's buddy, Tim Miller, took the Home Camp's only drop-tine buck this season. O.K., O.K - it wasn't much of a drop tine, we'll admit. Maybe an eighth of an inch, at best.  But hey now. A drop tine is a drop tine is a drop tine. Far as we're concerned, Tim "done good".

Both Glenn and Tim later found second-bucks to add to their collection and seemed to be happy.  They even booked back for next fall before they left. But at their old haunt over at the McManus Camp. Beaver and Leslyn came over one day at lunch for a reunion with their former (and soon-to-be-again) clients. To get them booked once again at his own camp, Beaver probably promised them no piebald deer and longer drop-tines. He's kind of shifty that way, sometimes.

Bob Putt, who has been friends with Glenn since the second grade (back about the start of WW II), got himself a good buck and a nice doe.  Bob is a retired preacher and told a great story about the time he performed a shotgun wedding down in Kentucky where he worked. Seems that a young man had gotten his girl friend in a family way, and they were in a hurry to marry.  Bob was glad to accommodate that very afternoon. After the ceremony in their living room, the groom frankly admitted that he had no money to pay Bob but offered a couple of boxes of shotgun shells instead.  Bob said if that wasn't a shotgun wedding, he didn't know what was.

When the father/son Heberlig pair showed up the day before the hunt began, unfortunately, Jim Sr. had picked up a stomach bug somewhere on their drive to Texas. He suffered for the first two days of the hunt.  But hunt he did anyway, and never mind being half-sick. Finally, Jim Sr. began to feel a bit better. Thank goodness. Ain't nothing no worse than being sick on any kind of vacation. Especially a hunting trip.

Jim Jr., took his second-ever deer early in the hunt - a whopper of a doe at 119 lbs - plenty heavy for late January. The next day, he took his second-ever buck, and a good'un he was, too. So he now has a lifetime total of three deer - two thirds of which were taken with us. With Jim Sr. finally feeling better, he took a buck and a couple of hundred-plus pound does. They had that truck loaded with plenty of venison.

Larche Watters, the solo-hunter, took a buck early in the hunt and went on to take advantage of the second-buck offer. His two bucks and two does filled his coolers, too.

Only Bill Boyette and Bruce Dennington, the two hunters with the most Adobe Lodge Home Camp experience, failed to find bucks they liked.  But since the trip to Texas for the two long-time friends was to celebrate Bruce's recent retirement, they both counted the adventure as a success. Spending time with an old friend in a hunting camp - now it just don't get no better than that.

Three non-deer critters were taken. Guide Mike Thomson took out a porcupine, earning a grateful "At-A-Boy" from dog lovers everywhere. Then, guide Albert Zapata finished off that litter of feral hogs by bringing in what apparently was the final sibling of the group. And to make things even better, Bruce Dennington collected a big javelina - 62 lbs. But the real javelina story happened to Bruce later in the hunt.

Seems that Bruce was in a blind watching a feeder with several bucks of various sizes while he hoped for a possible shooter to arrive. Suddenly, all the deer bolted. Scattered like quail. What in the world? Yep, here comes a lone javelina to stake his claim on the available corn.  Disgusted now, Bruce vowed to wait him out. He surely didn't want to take a second swine, but the porker had the place to himself now, and showed no signs of leaving.

To speed up the departure of the javelina and the possible return of the deer, Bruce, leaving his gun in the blind (not a good idea), walked toward the feeder and threw a good rock toward the pig. Which startled him not one bit. He stood his ground and glared at poor Bruce.

Fairly close now to the javelina, Bruce realized his dilemma. No gun. No likely nearby tree.  Eyeball-to-eyeball now, Bruce swears that he could read the javelina's thoughts: "You're not from around here, are you feller?"

Bruce retreated.  The javelina finally left. And the deer never returned.

Exactly the same thing happened on the third night of the hunt at our corn feeder out behind the lodge.  One solo javelina arrived and you might as well have rolled out a mountain lion.  The thirty or so deer nearby scattered, only to watch from a distance as the uninvited guest ate his fill of "their" corn.

So the 2010 season ended with a hunt similar to all those that preceded it. Lots of stories, lots of good times, lots of adventures. Oodles of bucks seen. Deer harvested. Disappointments here and there, but offset by more stories of success. Here's the final tally: eight hunters collected nine bucks and six does. Three hunters took two bucks each. Three hunters took one buck. Two hunters took neither bucks nor does. Two hunters took two does each and two took one doe each.

The weather was outstanding for January weather. Mid-20's at daybreak and shirt-sleeve temperatures by mid-day. And not much wind, thank goodness.

And so ends our 2010 season. Future reports and photos will be coming in April when our spring turkey season gets underway. Till then - Happy Trails.

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Hunt G January 11 - 15

Until just a couple of days before Hunt G began, it looked like the John Newsome group of four would be the only folks in camp. But right at the last minute, four Louisiana hunters booked.  So we had a full group of eight.

And we also had the season's coldest weather so far. If it hadn't been for a cloud cover on the second day of the hunt when the temperature hovered just below freezing, it would have been super-cold. Thank goodness for clouds. Wish they would have brought us a rain. But cold weather in West Texas rarely lasts over a couple of days. The final two days of the hunt were chilly, but tolerable.

Due to a variety of complications, the LA hunters, all first-time Adobe Lodge hunters by the way, didn't show up in time for the first afternoon's hunt. When finally they arrived after dark, their huge bus/motor home could be envied by a country music star somewhere. After a late supper and our orientation meeting, the late-arrivers had to shoot-in their guns after dark with a pickup's headlights illuminating the 100 yard target.  This important activity should never be omitted, no matter what.

The Newsome group included John Sr. and John Jr. Both were here back in late October, and, in fact, the 148" buck taken by John Jr. on that Hunt D is still in first place for our "Buck of the Year" honors. John Sr, on his frequent visits to hunt with us, is often accompanied by Myron Woomer. This trip, we had the pleasure of meeting, for the first time, Myron's wife, Gail, who is a dedicated hunter back home in Illinois. Interestingly, Myron earned our best buck of year himself way back in 1996.

The Louisiana hunters consisted of another father/son pair - Lenny Cheek Sr. and Lenny Jr. Both live in Ponchatoula, as does Lenny Jr.'s good friend, Justin Badeaux. The fourth member of their group was Rusty Gaudet from La Place.

Deer movement during the next day's brutally cold weather wasn't all that good, but Rusty put his tag on a buck in the morning. The rascal had a bent nose. Check out his photo below.  That afternoon, Lenny Jr. hit one and the decision was made to wait till the next morning to look for him. Over many years, we have learned to not push a wounded deer. It's best to give them plenty of time. Sure enough, the next morning, Lenny Jr.'s buck was found.

The same "wait-to-look" tactic resulted in Gail Woomer's buck being found after her anxious all-night finger-crossing. To put the icing on the cake, on the final morning of the hunt, Gail collected her first-ever javelina.

Here late in the 2010 season, our buck inventory was showing a modest surplus so second-bucks were offered to the group. And three were taken. Rusty Gaudet, Lenny Cheek Jr. and John Newsome Sr. all found bucks judged to be worth the additional trophy fees.

Only Justin Badeaux and John Newsome, Jr. failed to put a buck on our tally board. Justin hit one but an extensive search found bits of bone and blood but no buck. The young hunter was understandably severely disappointed. Wounded bucks which escape are almost the worst thing that can happen to the spirit of a hunting camp. "It ain't no fun". But sportsmen have lost game since back when cavemen and their spears were afield. You look and look and look some more. And who knows? Someday Justin's buck might finally be found.

With John Jr.'s October buck still being in first place, understandably he was interested in only the biggest buck he could find. With his guide, Larry Meeks leading the way, there is no telling how far the pair walked in their quest. They covered some ground, for sure, and Larry even reported a bit of success with his rattling horns. Unusual, but not unprecedented this late in the season. Come to think of it, the 2004 Buck of the Year was rattled-in in January. But, despite their best efforts on Hunt G, nothing but little bucks were interested. So, as the hunt ended, John Jr. had failed to find a worthy candidate and left a blank spot in the buck column by his name.

The final total, then, was nine buck's taken by the eight hunters. Three collected two bucks; three took one/each. One was a DNF, and one took zip. Nine does were taken by the group, plus that javelina, plus a huge feral goat (photo below). On that final morning, it was one busy time in the skinning shed with three bucks, numerous does, plus the javelina to process. World-Champion skinner, David Gonzales, worked his way through the pile and finished in record time.

For the first time this year, a young axis buck has appeared at the corn feeder behind the lodge. Who knows where he came from? And another critter appeared there for the first time - a lone javelina. When the two teenagers, Lenny Jr. and Justin Badeaux, spotted the pig, they contemplated running out to give him a swift kick. Luckily, they didn't. Little did they know how dangerous these porkers are. And they are equipped with lethal weapons, to boot.  In the photos below, you'll see a giant tusk on that javelina that Gail Woomer collected.

One final hunt remains in the 2010 season, January 26-30. We now have a full group of eight for that hunt, and we've even had to turn away possible hunters. So it will be a couple of weeks before the final hunt will be posted to the website. The fat lady is warming up, but she's not yet singing.

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Hunt F January 6 - 10

For the second hunt in a row, we had way-less than a full group in camp, but somehow that never seems to make a difference. We had a great time with a couple of veteran hunters, and we got to meet a new one plus his buddy.

Two of the hunters have exactly the same name - Jim Mousseau. The dad and his son. They aren't officially named Sr. and Jr., but that's how we list them on the tally board. Jim Sr. lives in Clarkston, MI; Jim Jr. makes his home in Conifer, CO, up in the mountains west of Denver. Despite the distances involved, each fall finds the pair hunting as often as they can get themselves together. Either in Michigan, or Colorado, or wherever.  As a final hunt to end each season, they gravitate south for Adobe Lodge-style whitetail hunting. Memory, being tricky and deceitful sometimes, tells us that the Mousseaus have been here for maybe the past five years in a row.

To hopefully get away from the brutal winter weather back home, their strategy is to come to Texas in January. Last year, it didn't work so well - this year, it did. Pretty much.  The weather during the entire hunt was mild for this time of year.  Oh, sure - it was cold enough in the mornings, but the shirt-sleeve afternoons were comfortable until after dark. And thankfully, on the second night, we even got a bit of rain, too. Every little bit helps, especially to settle the dust which had been an inch-deep on every road back earlier in the season.

Jim Sr., having plenty of experience hunting in Michigan, elected to limit his outings to afternoons-only. Jim Jr., no stranger to cold-weather hunting, was busy as a bee with his camera both morning and afternoon and collected a dandy set of photographs to show all of us back at camp what he was seeing. Some of his samples are reproduced below.

Early in the hunt, Jim Jr. got into some more "giant" pigs. Hunting just across the river from where the others had been taken on previous hunts, no doubt it was the remaining litter-mates of the little darlings. Jim brought a couple into camp and assured one and all that a third one was "missing in action". So credit him with three. Then, a couple of days later, guide Albert Zapata collected yet another pair. With these new ones, that makes a total of twelve piglets taken by our hunters and guides during this season. Well done. Well done.  We want to keep their numbers as low as we can for as long as we can. We'll end up losing the war, no doubt, but each battle we win is a sweet victory.

The third hunter in camp, Brent Sample from LaPorte, TX, was to have been here back on Hunt 10, but complications arose and he was a no-show. Brent called the day before this hunt commenced asking if he could still come. Yes, of course. And when he arrived, Brent was accompanied by an old buddy, Bennett Kutchka, who tagged-along as Brent's non-hunting-companion. Brent has a lot of experience hunting in West Texas - in numerous locations. But this was his first time to hunt the area immediately around San Angelo. Brent elected to hunt under our "Trophy Option" plan since his goal was to harvest only an exceptional, top-end buck. Although a couple were finally seen way in the distance, Brent failed to find what he was looking for among the many good, but immature bucks he saw. After each hunt back at camp, Brent would avow that he'd seen a multitude of bucks that only lacked a year or two to finally reach their potential.

So Brent went home with a couple of big does, but no buck. And going into the final morning, it appeared that a similar fate awaited the Mousseaus.

Jim Sr. had missed one the afternoon before. Jim Jr., having completed his dress rehearsal by taking a pair of does plus those pigs, went right to the finish line and scored big-time just before the clock ran out. He found a good ten-pointer with an eleventh kicker on a G-2 and not a sign of a blemish on that near-symetrical rack. You'll see his photo from a couple of angles below. The buck was the best he's ever taken here, so that was a good ending to a fine hunt.

In the collection below of Jim's field photos which he generously emailed for this report, you'll get to see some of the bucks Jim was seeing from the various blinds he hunted. Study the photos closely to find the one with the little pigs he "shot with his camera" before he got his gun out the window. Those miniature porkers don't make much of a target from a distance of a hundred yards or so. It takes a sharp-shooter to hit one. And it's a feather in your cap if you collect more than one.

In summary, then, of Hunt F, here-she-is: the hunt total for the three hunters was one buck and four does.  Plus the pigs, thanks to Jim Jr. and Albert.  And all in camp got away just in time as the winter's coldest weather was predicted to arrive the next day.

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Hunt E January 1 - 5

For a while there, it appeared that Hunt E would never happen. It really never came together for sure until just before Christmas. John Sanders, Greenville, SC, who hunted with us a couple of times years ago, wanted to bring his 11 year old son, Jack. School and work schedules for the pair were cloudy and uncertain. In a similar dilemma was the Boehler pair -dad, Craig and son, Justin - who were dealing with family health issues back home in Amsterdam, NY.  For the past several years, Craig and Justin have hunted with us in November.

When the hunt materialized, it turned out to be worth the suspense. Here's the story.

John elected to not hunt but to focus, instead, on helping Jack. Things started out mighty slow when on that first afternoon, they saw zip, zero, nada. Discouraging, to say the least, especially for a youngster. Almost always, blind hunting will show hunters a good time watching the comings and goings of a multitude of deer. In fact, on numerous outings, Craig and Justin were seeing more deer than they could count.

But Larry Meeks, the only guide to work the hunt, has a favorite blind where, over the years, all kinds of good things have happened. So that's just where he put the two Sanders the next morning. Sure enough, Jack drilled a thirteen point buck right smack in the neck and down he went for good. Jack honestly admitted that he'd aimed at the buck's shoulder, but hey - we'll take a one-shot deal any way we can get it.

You might could have counted more than thirteen points on that rack. Even having lost a couple of tines in his recent battles, he is a mighty impressive buck for a young hunter's first-ever whitetail. So now, their focus turned to other game - turkeys and javelinas, both species of which had already been located by the others afield.

With the turkey season in this part of Texas ending on Sunday afternoon, Larry Meeks knew just the spot. Sure enough, as he delivered John and Jack to that promising blind, a drove of turkeys under the feeder ran off into the brush. What a deal, eh? But as things happen so often in hunting, those birds never returned that day. And so, it was over. The season, that is. Time to focus on getting Jack a javelina.

Justin Boehler had seen a few where he had been hunting. He even had proof on his ever-present video camera. But when John and Jack hunted that very same spot, once again, the Sanders were skunked.  No matter where javelinas were being seen, the presence of John and Jack seemed to make them disappear, or better said, never appear.

So with their work and school schedules still a huge factor, and since Jack had successfully completed the primary mission of collecting his first buck, the Sanders pair clocked-out early to return home ahead of schedule. The javelinas could rest easy, for a while, and could continue their aimless wandering. Trying to pattern their movements is an impossible task.

Having hunted with us the past several years, both Craig and Justin Boehler were content to wait for a butter-melter, should one show himself. They looked-over and passed-on an impressive number of bucks. Justin's video camera was full of evidence of what he was seeing.

On the third afternoon, Craig finally found a worthy candidate for his wall and pulled the trigger. But when Larry came, they were unable to find nary a drop of blood after dark. Next morning, they returned for a better, daylight look. No blood.  Craig had dodged the dreaded "DNF" listing on the tally board and continued his quest for a buck. In fact, he asked Larry to put him in that very same blind for the final afternoon.

This time, it worked. Craig collected for himself one mighty fine buck which, if you could credit him with the inches of broken tines, would easily be in the 130 class. It might very well have been that same buck he'd missed the night before.  Kiddingly, we told the skinner, David Gonzales, to examine that carcass carefully. If the buck had just a nick somewhere (and thereby had produced any blood), Craig would have owed us not only the "Trophy Option" trophy fee for that nick, but he would have owed for a "second-buck" as well. Craig took the ribbing well, and, try as we might, no mark of any kind was found on the buck. All's well that end's well.

So, going into the final morning of the hunt, we were "two for three" with only Justin having a blank spot in his buck column. Remember, Justin is fond of his video camera.  Maybe he should have left the devise back in camp.   A mature buck came in to the feeder. Justin was getting his every movement on film, wishing that the buck would finally raise his head and give him an idea of true size of those antlers. When finally he did just that, Justin's heart skipped a few beats. He quickly put down that video and grabbed for his gun.  Wouldn't you know it? The buck chose that very moment to wander off. Out of sight. Out of range. But not out of mind.

As the hunt came to an end at noon, Justin was playing and replaying the video he had of that buck. Yes, he was kicking himself after every re-wind. Blue and lower than a snake's belly, he was.  Hooking his video to his computer, he was emailing that buck's image to relatives and friends across the nation. A common reply was- "What - are you crazy? Why didn't you have your gun out the window instead of that camera?"

With the Boehler's plane not scheduled to leave until the next day, guide Larry Meeks volunteered to work an extra half day just to see if he could once again put Justin on that buck. Long-story-short - it worked. But with this difference - the buck never came close to that feeder. Late, late in the afternoon, and about to give up any hope of ever seeing him again, Justin (and Craig, who had elected to accompany his son on the fateful quest) spotted the buck way out in the flat and ninety-degrees away from the feeder. Justin's 130 yard shot out the side window of the blind put him on the ground and onto our tally board.

So with the Sanders leaving early and the Boehlers staying a bit long, you could say it was an average hunt, time wise. Three hunters collected three bucks. All of them were in the 130 class if you would be so generous to credit them for broken tines.  Justin got a couple of does. No turkeys, no javelinas, and doggone the luck anyway. But no matter what else happens, it is always a special treat for us to see fathers hunting with sons. And to see a first-ever buck taken. "It just don't get no better than that."

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Hunt 10 December 27 - 31

We always look forward to our hunt between Christmas and New Years. Know why? Almost always, that date is perfect for father/son and family groups - our favorites of all. And that's just what we got.

Jerry Tibbott, from Northern Cambria, PA, who by the way, has hunted with us many times now, once again brought his son, Austin, now 13 years old. You should know that Austin is just a mighty-fine hunter and never mind how old he is. He has been a true veteran of the sport for years, believe it or not, and is one heck of a shot, to boot. Yep, Jerry is passing along to his son his passion for hunting.  America's hunting tradition needs more dads like Jerry. It is said that fewer and fewer youngsters are involved these days.

To up the ante even further, Jerry brought along his father-in-law, John Lieb. Yes, yes - that's Austin's granddad. So this family group of three made up half the roster of hunters. This was John's first visit to our camp, and we're hoping it won't be the last.

And there was yet another family group from Northern Cambria on Hunt 10. Jay Carroll and his fifteen-year-old son, Brennan joined up with the Tibbott clan. Little brother, Bryce, came as a non-hunter, but he probably won't stay that way for long, being surrounded by all these dedicated outdoorsmen. So here we could count an additional family of three.

The sixth hunter, Lemmon Dishong, was not member of either family but instead works with Jerry Tibbott. So all the group was very well acquainted. In fact, Lemmon hunted with us a couple of years ago, and it was good to see him again.

Some hunts unfold slowly and some start with a bang. Please, no comments about puns here. This group of PA hunters went immediately to work and started putting their tags on deer right from the start. Come to think of it, it wasn't just deer. When the dust settled three and a half days later, four different species of animals had been harvested by the group.

That first night of the hunt was busy. Jay Carroll brought in one heck of a nice buck. To top that off, Lemmon took his first-ever javelina that first afternoon. And then, to make things even better, Jerry had killed a huge feral hog. The photo studio was busy and booked-full for a while there.

Jerry did his best to help us out by getting another couple of porkers, but the group of swine scattered like quail with the first, deadly shot. Despite later attempts to find them and exterminate even more of their troops, the drove of pigs was not seen again, and doggone the luck, anyway. If only we could rid the country of these new undocumented invaders. But we will take one dead pig anytime we can get one, and our thanks to Jerry and all the rest of the successful "hog-harvesters" in 2010.

By noon on the second day, both Brennan Carroll and Jerry Tibbott had put bucks on our tally board. So just one quarter into the hunt, half the hunters had bucks. What a start, eh?

For son Austin, Jerry had pre-planned to work in a hunt for a blackbuck antelope at a nearby ranch. So that second afternoon, that's just what they did.  Their stalk on the critter didn't get as close as anyone wanted, but sometimes you have to reach out there a bit when hunting. Austin did, and hit the blackbuck pretty darn hard.  As things happen, they were unable to find him until the next day, but no problem - the head and the cape will make one mighty handsome mount for Austin's wall back home.  When the blackbuck was finally brought to our legendary Home Camp photo studio the next morning, guess what? Yep, Austin had a dandy whitetail to photograph, as well. I told you that boy is a hunter.

While the blackbuck hunt had been underway, John Lieb was able to put a fine buck on the ground. So with all but one of the hunters tagged-out on bucks at the halfway point in the hunt, their focus turned to doe hunting.  Most hunters don't quite believe us when we caution them that collecting does - the big, mature, long-nosed older variety that we prefer to see harvested - is often much more difficult than collecting bucks.

Lemmon Dishong, the only non-family hunter in camp, knew what he was looking for when he arrived in camp.  For one thing, he wasn't interested in anything sporting busted-up antlers. An exceptional, but flawed, buck was seen early on and firmly turned down. That's plenty o.k. with us, and is one of the several reasons we offer our "Trophy Option" pricing. Anyone wanting to hunt an extra-ordinary buck is always welcome to do so. Sometimes, we can put one in front of you, and sometimes we just cannot. Quite frankly, if we knew the secret "Honey Hole" where the monsters hang out, we could save everyone lot of time and agony. But the cruel, hard truth is this: that super-dude can show up anywhere. At any time. On any ranch. At any blind.  Luckily, the good-un Lemmon was looking for finally stepped out, and Lemmon knew instantly that his goal for his hunt was in front on him. He put him down without hesitation. Sure enough, Lemmon's buck turned out to be the best of the hunt with 130+" of horns on his head.

To make things even better, Lemmon's second doe weighed a remarkable 117 pounds.  She was one heavy hussy for this late in the season, this being an exceptionally dry year with slim pickings in the grocery aisle.

With most of the bucks taken during the first part of the hunt, antlerless deer became the focus for everyone. But at this point in the season, the doe harvest is complicated by a demanding burden.  It matters a great deal WHERE the does are taken.  Managing a herd of whitetail deer is a challenge if there ever was one since you have to calculate your harvest based on census numbers. Every biologist you talk to will agree that a deer count is an inexact science at best. But it is all you have to work with, and you do the best you can. On some ranches, you'll hit your quota of does fairly quickly, even though the hunters and guides will be reporting seeing scads of antlerless deer everywhere they look. On other ranches, you might be way-yonder UNDER YOUR QUOTA of harvesting does and yet your troops in the field will solemnly declare they are unable to find even one worthy candidate for harvest. Numbers aren't supposed to lie, but try telling that to hunters and guides. "Are you going to believe the numbers or your lying eyes?" What a catch-22.

So it was on Hunt 10. We were forbidden by census numbers to hunt where is would have been the easiest to harvest does.  And we had to hunt where the census said many more does needed to be taken. All the hunters dutifully did their part. And you know what? When it was all said and done, they had won. All six hunters collected their quota of two does each. And with a half-day to spare, since they had to leave camp early to catch that plane back to PA. Besides the does, they took home six bucks, a javelina, and a blackbuck. Jerry understandably and with our blessing, left behind the feral hog. Four species and twenty-one animals in three and a half days of hunting ain't bad.

As always, we appreciate the efforts of all our hunters, all season long, to help us manage this whitetail resource on a dozen or more ranches, compromising dang-near fifty thousand acres. One thing for sure, it would be impossible to do it alone. Many misguided souls fail to understand a basic principle of animal husbandry - population control. A good rancher will not over-stock his range land. A good whitetail manager attempts to keep his deer density where it needs to be. And for that, we have to count on our hunters.

The regular Texas season ends on Sunday, January 2. As we move into the final few hunts during the MLD season (Managed Lands - Deer), we have four more hunts scheduled.  There are slots open on all of them, just in case you might be wanting to get in on the fun.  Contact us for details anytime.

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Hunt 9 December 17 - 21

As Hunt # 9 kicked-off at mid-day on Friday, the weather was so chilly, windy and unpleasant that our pre-hunt meeting had to be held indoors for the first time this season. On all the previous hunts, we've circled around out of doors somewhere, depending on the sunshine or the wind.  At daylight the next morning, the temperature was down to 23 degrees.  Then, by mid-day, it had warmed to shirt-sleeve weather and stayed that way all the rest of the hunt.  Even at night. You hardly needed even a light jacket at daybreak. In fact, heat records in the mid-80's were set on Monday and Tuesday, the official first day of winter.

So, there is your plan. In packing your gear for a hunting trip to West Texas, you'd best be prepared for anything. Bring your parka, and bring your tee-shirt.

As was mentioned on the previous hunt report, the rest of the "shrimpers" came in as scheduled for Hunt # 9. Unlike their gulf-dwelling colleagues on Hunt 8 who mostly came from states east of Texas, all these guys live in deep southeast Texas near Port Arthur. And, as we came to learn, not all were in the seafood business. The seafarers had brought along their doctor, their lawyer and their banker. Each specialist can be the most important person in your life if you really need him.

The group was led by Trey Pearson from Groves, TX. Trey was accompanied by Wendell Meaux (pronounced Cajun-style as "Mo"). These two actually got here for the final day or so of Hunt 8 and were therefore able to spend time with that first wave of their group.  When Hunt 9 commenced, all the new bunch was finally here, including Blake Hemmenway, Vernon Bates, Bob Warhola, and Mike Cichowski.  Only Wendell and Bob were new faces to us.   The rest of the guys had been here back in '09.

If you've kept count through all of these introductions, you realize that we are only up to six names. Yep, there were two more - a father/son pair, similarly from deep southeast Texas, but they were not a part of the "shrimpers" group.  Rob McNamara lives in League City; son Zach, now in college, lives in San Leon, TX. Actually, Rob spends most of his time in Iraq working for a large American company. Thankfully, as we came to learn from educational conversations with him, Rob gets to live on a military base.  Most every American does, as things on a military installation are quite safe. Now. But back before the "surge" a few years ago, incoming mortar rounds were quite common and danger was a daily menace.  Having vast experience in working hot-spots such as Albania and Afghanistan (where he helped build the American embassy), Rob is a great source of "on-the-spot news" about the real situation in those places we hear about all the time.

Zach did great, taking a good eight pointer and a couple of does. Rob, on the other hand, had the misfortune to see an exceptional eight pointer (field-judged to be in excess of 20" with foot-long G-2's). Understandably, he thereby became infatuated with the thought of hanging his handsome head on the wall. He would consider no other buck.  Sadly, when he finally saw him the second time, the buck gave him only the briefest of looks and was gone again. For Rob and his goals for this hunt, that was like pouring fuel on a fire.

We've noticed such obsessions before.  A hunter will dream of a particular buck and wants to hunt only the area where he had been seen. If at all possible and assuming our regular rotation is not a factor, we are glad to accommodate such requests.  But there is this downside to the deal: if a single blind is hunted too often, deer (read: "trophy bucks") seem to get leery of that area and will find somewhere else to hang out. Whitetail deer are way-yonder smarter than most of us give them credit for. And when you couple this native intelligence with their extra-ordinary senses of smelling, hearing, and sight, you know you have a worthy opponent in the game who will beat you more often than not.

To underscore the fact that deer probably know/sense that someone is, in fact, hiding in that 4' x 4' blind over there, consider the dim-witted cow: bovines will pay zero attention to a deer blind UNLESS it is currently occupied by a hunter. In which case, they will stick their head in a window, rub their neck on a corner, and create a major ruckus. So it stands to reason that the infinitely smarter whitetail will similarly "smell a rat", and will be "muy wary".

So Rob, totally unwilling to even consider a lesser buck, saw everything but what he wanted to see on those final outings. He went home without that eight point. He vows, schedule permitting, to return with Zach next year to resume the quest.

Trey Pearson, the only other hunter who failed to collect a buck, earned a giant Adobe Lodge feather for his cap, when he shot another of those "giant pigs" which have recently moved in to set up their home around one of our corn feeders. Back on Hunt 7, when guide Snake Allen and Tom Rentfro from Illinois got into the swine, Snake thought his pistol shots had connected with a couple of the larger porkers. Trey's testimony would tend to support this claim since, when he saw the pigs, there were only little ones. No large pigs were seen.  Trey unsuccessfully tried to line up his shot to take out more than one of the minature feral hogs, but he tagged only one. We'll take one pig any way we can get him. Truthfully, we are doing our best to postpone the day when feral hogs will be common in our area. For now, they are not, thank goodness, due to the efforts of our hunters like Trey and Tom.

Then, when the seafood group all left camp fully a day early, guides Jerry Watts and Bill Scott, having no clients to occupy their time, made up a plan to exterminate the remaining pigs. Trey had thought there were at least eight in the group. He got one, so that left seven. Bro. Watts and Bro. Scott did an outstanding job by taking out five more. So now we are down to a possible two. Maybe someone will get them before long.

So despite the unusually warm weather just before Christmas, the eight hunters in camp took six bucks and nine does. The two unsuccessful buck hunters, Trey and Rob, collected no does since their focus was exclusively on bucks. One hunter took three does, two took a pair/each, and the final two hunters collected one doe apiece.

Yes, the entire group of shrimpers will be back in 2011. Rob and Zach, schedule permitting, will too. Repeat business is what keeps us in business, and we appreciate each and every one of our hunters.

Merry Christmas to all. The camp will now be closed for a few days. A report on our next hunt, scheduled Dec. 27-31, will be posted around January 1 or 2.

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Hunt 8 December 12 - 16

If "Joe-the-Hunter" was offered the opportunity to put a six-point buck on his wall, he'd probably treat the invitation like a tele-marketing call.  He'd hang up.

But on Hunt # 8, a six-point buck was taken that most any hunter would swap for his best ten-point. Just wait till you see the two photos below. Dave Borgesen got him. Dave lives in Wasilla, Alaska, of all places. We just don't get too many hunters from up-that-a-way down this-a-way.

Dave was to have hunted with us back last season, but complications arose and he had to postpone the trip. In re-scheduling for 2010, Dave elected to bring along an amigo as a non-hunting companion - one Hal Hutchins, from Utica, MS. Hal is better known around Adobe Lodge circles as a turkey addict, having hunted with us the past two spring seasons. Dave, being plenty experienced in hunting the West Coast variety of black-tail deer, welcomed Hal's experience/expertise with whitetails. When the big six showed himself on the second afternoon, Hal, his heart rate off the charts, whispered to Dave that he could hunt for a lifetime and never find a better one.

As a disclaimer, it should be noted that our Adobe Lodge patented photography process is designed to restore "ground shrinkage" to bucks. (We endeavor to make each buck look as big as he did when the hunter first saw him and pulled the trigger). Such high-tech photography might have been a bit "over the top" for Dave's buck. In the photo below, that rascal looks a big as an elk.

But, frankly, it would be impossible to make him look "ordinary", no matter how you took the photo. The old boy, AS A SIX-POINT MIND YOU, has a bit over 133 inches of horns on his head. His main beams were 24 inches; G-2's were close to a foot; and he was an honest 22 1/2 inside or 24" outside.

So Dave went back to Wasilla with one heck of a Texas deer, and perhaps Sarah Palin will get to see him sometime. Maybe she'll come to Texas to see us? They say she likes to hunt.

Long-time faithful hunting clients, as well as decades-long amigos, Warren Widmyer and H.B. Lantz, both from central Virginia, were in camp for yet another Adobe Lodge hunt. Both collected bucks that were 19" wide.  But try as we might, we could never put Warren on a Rio Grande gobbler. Oh sure, numerous toms have been seen, but never, as it turned out, where Warren happened to be hunting. One morning, Warren's guide, Buryl Williams, took the time to string a line of corn from the feeder all the way to Warren's blind, in hopes of drawing in a long beard. Murphy's Law took over: something like eight or nine bucks fed right up to the blind, but nary a turkey showed that morning. Already tagged-out on his buck, poor Warren could do nothing but shake his head in amazement. When the dust settled at the end of the hunt, the pair of Virginia guys had collected the two bucks and three does between them, but, sadly, no turkey.

Back in 2009, we hosted a whole host of "shrimpers". All of them, some how or the other, are in the seafood business down on the gulf coast. Harvesting, buying, selling, processing, packaging - you get the idea.  When they finally got around to re-booking for 2010, we couldn't fit all of them onto one single hunt, so they split their group with some coming on this Hunt # 8 and the rest will be here on Hunt # 9. Stay tuned.

On Hunt 8, five of these seafaring-types arrived in camp with coolers and coolers full of shrimp. All sizes.  Some of them, with no exaggeration, were the size of small bananas. So over the four days, we had a couple of scrumptious meals of shrimp - some grilled on skewers over mesquite, some in a gumbo with rice and all the veggies. Steak night turned out to be "surf and turf".  Gout, for those of us who suffer from this malady, was a clear and present danger since shell-fish are a well-known cause of the debilitating joint disease. So far, so good.  Just remember to take those pills.

The five "shrimpers" were a father/son pair, Jimi and Lance Stringfellow from Moss Point, Mississippi, Jens Sundae and Clinton Jones from Irvington, Alabama, and Ryan Hemmenway, from Fannett, TX (about as far southeast as you can go in our fair state). All collected nice bucks, and Jens even found a second buck he liked.

If you would have been in camp with us, you would have noticed right away that Jens has no hint of an Alabama accent. Turns out that Jens hails from Norway.  Upon meeting each other for the first time, Jens and Dave Borgesen, the Alaskan, who used to operate a commercial fishing boat, had much to discuss about the technicalities of catching salmon (Pacific for Dave, Atlantic for Jens). We West Texas cowboys could understand little of their discourse - (they might as well have been speaking Norwegian). You get to meet the darndest people in our camp.

Speaking of the shrimpers, those coolers that brought all the shrimp our way returned home packed full of boned-out deer meat. Any way you want to figure it, we West Texans consider that to be one heck of a good trade.

On the third afternoon of the hunt, Jimi Stringfellow and son Lance set out to hunt a drip-irrigated alfalfa field one afternoon - the plan being for Lance to video dad's hunt. But when all those deer showed up in that field, the well-laid plans were discarded and both hunters grabbed their guns, and to heck with that video camera.  When the dust settled, two dandy bucks were on the ground. Lance had to put a second bullet in his, though, when the dude looked like he might regain his feet. A wise move. We've had bucks lost this year when that little safety measure wasn't employed. Being ornery, they told their guide, Charles Fleming, that they had only taken a couple of does in that alfalfa field, and poor Charles had to find them with the headlights of his truck, only to be surprised when he found horns on both "does". Charles said he almost needed to use the luggage trailer back at the lodge to haul the video gear and accoutrements which the Stringfellow pair insisted on having on each outing.

Ryan Hemmenway had missed a shot at a buck in that same field on the previous afternoon.  Did the buck stumble or act hit?  It was impossible to reconstruct the exact "crime scene".  In those situations, it's too bad that each of our blinds doesn't have some kind of camera so we could study an "instant replay" of the event. In watching football games, we are all too addicted to this miraculous technology . But since not a speck of blood was found, Ryan continued hunting to finally collect a high-horned eight point - a very nice West Texas trophy.

You ask about the weather here in mid-December? It was mostly beautiful - chilly in the morning and mild in the afternoon. But on the third day of the hunt, San Angelo set a local record with 86 degrees in mid-afternoon. Fully five degrees hotter than any similar date in our history.  Hardly deer hunting weather, but that was the day the Stringfellow pair collected those two ten-pointers. So much for conventional wisdom about deer not moving when it's hot. And then, on the final morning of the hunt, yet another dry front blew through the area with a biting north wind. Nope, not a drop of rain. Not even a heavy dew any of the four mornings.   Dry weather has us by the throat.

As a recap then, for this party of one, party of two, and party of five, all eight collected bucks. One took a second buck. Twelve does were taken. And, dog-gone-it, no turkeys were taken, but we told Warren to save his hunting license and come back to see us in April. Maybe he will. Our fingers are crossed. But it is darned hard to type on this keyboard.

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Hunt 7 December 7 - 11

We call this one the "John Newsome Hunt". John has been coming on this hunt date for more years than any of us can remember. In 2010, John treated five of his employees and a couple of his local law enforcement amigos to Adobe Lodge-style hunting. Everyone in camp drove-in from central Illinois, near Effingham. And, about their hunting skills, a Texas cowboy would describe Hunt 7 thusly:  "They Done Good".  They were 100% successful on bucks and got close to their limit of doe meat, as well. Plus - a couple of additional species were taken on the hunt.  Yep, it was a good'un.

Except for one thing. The plan to finally get John Newsome a shot at a bobcat backfired - even though the method had a successful local history. But - just like in the old Roadrunner Cartoons: Wiley Coyote (played in the drama by outfitter and webmaster, Skipper Duncan) used some of his best schemes, but the roadrunner (played by any available bobcat) never ran out of luck, or smarts, or whatever it is that gives felines those legendary nine-lives.

There are plenty of bobcats in our area, the evidence of which is their ubiquitous scat found on almost every road we travel. But you just don't see the kitty-cats very often.  Next time you have a calculator handy, see if you can figure how many man-hours are spent afield by our hunters. And then divide that by the number of bobcats seen/harvested each year. Truly, they are one special trophy.

You'd think that by now, we could somehow put a bobcat in front of Mr. Newsome. Good grief - he's been here countless times hunting with us since way back in 1994. In recent years, he's made multiple trips each season. Time after time, hunt after hunt - it's always the same. No bobcat.

Well, not exactly. The only time John ever had a shot at a bobcat from the window of his blind, a 151+" buck was standing broadside out another window. What a choice, eh? Understandably, John chose the buck. This perfect twelve-pointer just happens to, coincidently, now sit # 12 on our All-Time Best list.  But, come to think of it, bucks of that size and bobcats of any size are similarly hard to come by.

As a matter of interest, we no longer charge a trophy fee for bobcats, although we once did. Believe it or not, we were hearing reports of hunters turning down shots at bobcats because they didn't want to pay the trophy fee ($300). We want these predators gone, so the trophy fee was terminated.

Back in the summer, one of our landowners, a lady-rancher, was losing her kid goats to a malevolent bobcat.  She got herself a couple of live traps fitted with a small cage in the far end, into which she placed a pair of bantam (banty?) roosters.  She located the traps, baited with the roosters, just out of sight of each other.  The lonely roosters crowed their heads off back and forth. Result: in less than twenty-four hours, she had that bobcat in one of those traps.

So. Idea. Get some roosters to use as bait for a bobcat for John Newsome. What a triumph it would be. So quickly: Roosters found and purchased; cages built;; feed and water provided. It fell to Charlie Bowers, who always guides John, the burden of having to haul the roosters from blind to blind each half-day.  John, ready to try anything new, was a keen observer of the effect of the chickens near a corn feeder on that first afternoon's hunt. John's report: deer don't like chickens. Every time either rooster would crow, any nearby deer would bolt.

So, the next morning, the roosters were re-located to the edge of a wheat field where deer hang out. One cage down that-a-way. Around the corner and out of sight, the other was placed, the idea being to seperate the roosters to enhance crowing. But, sadly, no luck.  Same result - no deer would come close to the chickens. And, no bobcats either.  After the third similarly unsuccessful hunt hauling roosters, Charlie announced that it was time TO HUNT DEER, and to-heck with the chicken caper. So they did, and you can see the high-horned buck that John finally got from the first "rooster-free" blind he hunted.  He's a dandy.

Yep, the rooster scheme, no matter how the hand was played, worked about like all those "never-fail" ideas of Wiley Coyote. Anybody interested in buying three roosters? Half-price, too. If a sale isn't made quickly, the hunters coming in for our next hunt might be treated to "chicken-noodle-soup" for lunch someday.

The rest of the hunters in John's party did great, as you will see in the photos below. All collected bucks, and five of the seven guests took their limit of two does. The other pair collected a doe apiece.

Tom Reftfro got himself his first-ever javelina. Interestingly, Tom took his buck, both does and that javelina all with his .50 caliber muzzleloader. Pretty good shooting, but he saved the best for last. On the final afternoon, Tom and his guide, Snake Allen, were hunting along Spring Creek looking for a covey of feral hogs which had been reported to be in the area. Sure enough, they got into them. Quickly drawing his pistol, Snake hollered at Tom to start shooting. "Even the little ones?", Tom queried. "Yes - get all you can." Now with a muzzleloader, you don't get all that many shots, but Tom did as good as he could do with the only available target. Check out the photo below with the 300 lb. feral hog. Or did the decimal point somehow get moved? Maybe it was a 3.00 lb hog?

Some critics would point out the obvious fact: that's a mighty small pig Tom got. But that censure would come from those who see the glass as half-empty. The "glass-half-full" guys would say: "Man, Tom, you hit a mighty small target with that smoke-pole of yours." We are grateful for every feral hog, big or little, taken out of our environment. Thankfully, we still don't have too many. And we hope to keep it that way just as long as we can.  Tom did us one heck of a favor with what had to be one heck of a good shot.

Except for one windy, gusty day, the weather was nice.  Near-freezing and chilly at daybreak - shirtsleeve weather in the afternoon.  We just can't get totally away from having at least one blustry day during each four-day hunt date. And, mercy, it is still dry. The relentless truck traffic on ranch roads has turned them all into powder. White dust covers the east side of the caliche road (due to the prevailing southwest wind), out to fifty yards or more.

We're reminded of an excellent bronze by award-winning super-sculptor Garland Weeks (garlandweeks.com), an old friend of pert-near fifty years. The piece, about 10" high, could be described as follows:

A forlorn cowboy, hanging his head in misery, is astride his pony, motionless, on cracked and broken ground.

The title of the sculpture: "Needing A Good Rain Bad".

That pretty much sums it up for us, too.

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Hunt 6 December 2 - 6

O.K.   So here's the deal on this hunt, and you figure it out: 1. All Adobe Lodge multi-year veterans, several with more than ten faithful years of coming every year. 2. "Buck of the Year" honors earned four times by two members of this group. 3. Of the eight hunters, seven of them were hunting our "Trophy Option". So here's the question: were they super-selective (read: "choosy"), or what?

Yes they were. But danged if the eight hunters didn't leave camp with six mighty handsome bucks and some tales to tell. Not to mention some good video footage to prove what they had seen during the four days. Yep, it took a while for them to "look'em over", but that's what hunting is all about.

In camp was a party of three, two parties of two and a party of one. There were three father/son pairs (always a special treat for us) and we even had a female non-hunter, just to make things a bit brighter. The party of three was headed by Bill Knapp, (a.k.a. "The Legend of Adobe Lodge") plus his long-time companion/amigo Ray Reynolds plus son, Eric Knapp.  Believe it or not, Bill has earned "Buck of the Year" three times, and you can see two of those beauties on the Home Page of this website.  Eric Knapp, following in those famous footsteps, collected that Home Camp honor for himself last year.

Eric, in studying his own success here over the years, has decided that he does best in odd-numbered years. So 2010 was his off-year. He was one of the two hunters who left unsuccessful.

Not so for his legendary father. Ole' Bill put a bullet into one fine buck, as you'll see in the photos below. But it wasn't the buck he wanted. Not even close. With three photos on our "All-Time Champeen" board, you're not likely to see Bill take one that isn't a bit special. Here's his story about his 2010 adventure:

Sitting in a blind, watching a feeder. Lots of lesser bucks and antlerless deer here and there. But one particular old-boy had "an attitude".  If his antlers hadn't been so broken-up, he'd probably be a shooter for most anyone. Those damaged antlers were convincing evidence that he was a scrapper. Pretty good at fighting and all that. But hunters want to hang horns on the wall, not boxing gloves. After watching his bullying tactics for a while, Bill christened him with a name, the initials of which are A.H. But knowing that his story would surely find its way to this family website, Bill prudently changed his name to "Satan".

Satan is running the show now, but way yonder off in the distance, a spectacular buck appears. And he's headed right toward Bill. Slowing getting closer. Bill's gun is out the window and he's ready, waiting. Heart rate ticking ever upward.  The giant buck, though, has to contend with Satan, who is dominating the entire area. Do all hunters name bucks? Probably so.  To keep them differentiated, Bill tagged the newcomer with the name "Preacher". Predictably, Preacher and Satan took an instant dislike to each other. Preacher studies his defensive play book and, being no dummy, gets a nice bush between himself and Satan. But in so doing, he offers no target to the hidden shooter. Bill is totally unable to find a clear shot at Preacher through the bush. (Preacher is unaware of this other adversary in the area who wants to kill him, too.) It's a standoff, if there ever was one. Satan can't get a clear shot at Preacher, and neither can Bill. And that's how the story ends. No runs, no hits, and no errors. Preacher finds an exit cue and takes advantage of it.  Bill refuses the only shot presented to him - the well-known "Texas Heart Shot",  by the departing Preacher. Bill is exhausted. He was too excited for too long. He could barely tell the story hours later.

Bill did, however, take one heck of a nice eight point the next day, with incredibly long main beams. But he still dreams of Preacher, and will for a whole year until he returns in 2011.

The best buck of the hunt was taken by Roger Schantz. He's a twelve pointer with a 21" outside spread. And, he was the heaviest buck of the hunt at 157 lbs. Sadly, he had some broken headgear which cost him several inches. Taped just like he fell, he had 132+ inches, but if you wanted to credit him with what he's probably lost, he could easily have been a 140 class buck with all the original tines intact.  His son, Wayne, found plenty of shooters, but none he judged to be worth the trophy fee. But since both re-booked for next season before leaving camp, it's fair to say they left as happy hunters. And coolers full of deer meat, too.

We've often said that a trophy buck can be defined in several ways.  What makes a "trophy" isn't always the size of his rack. Sometimes, a buck becomes a trophy by the manner in which he was taken. Such was the case with Brad Milner and his 2010 buck. Guide Bill Scott rattled him in for Brad - the first buck he's ever taken by the process. And Boy-Howdy, was it exciting. Brad was elated by the entire experience. Rattling is the most exciting way to hunt a whitetail. Just ask anyone who has ever successfully taken one by this old Indian trick.

The Booths, Bob and Robbie, from Seaford, DE have been here countless times, but almost always heretofore, they had to come after Christmas to work around Robbie's school schedule, now all behind him, thank goodness. Both waited until late in the hunt to finally find the bucks they wanted. Bob's 21 3/4" wide buck might remind Bill Knapp of "Satan", what with all those busted-up tines on his left side. Check out his photo below.  But since he was taken at a different location, and since broken tines are common when the buck:to:doe ratio is fairly tight (bucks have to fight to get you-know-what), Bob's buck probably wasn't Old Satan. But hear this: getting a broken-tine buck is like taking-out "Bad, Bad LeRoy Brown".  You'll earn the everlasting appreciation from all the other bucks.

Robbie hunted with his girl-friend, Alex West. Alex finally got to see Robbie put a high-horned nine-pointer on the ground, but it was a photo finish.  Robbie got him on the final morning when it was about twenty-three degrees. (Hint to Robbie: having your girl friend with you in that deer blind on that cold morning was a darn good idea).

With the fall deer census being somewhat light, we have been asking hunters to limit their harvest of does to two apiece. With this group of super-selective veteran hunters, does were not a priority. Four of the hunters took nary a doe. But since the Schantz pair drove here from Round Rock, TX and were keen on stocking their freezers with venison, they were allowed to take three/each. Two hunters collected a pair of does. So the grand total for Hunt # 6 was this: eight hunters collected six bucks and ten does. Even with the new moon coming on this hunt, and with the cold mornings we now have, there were no varmints or critters taken. But, regarding the hunt, when every single hunter re-books for the following season, you have to count it as a good'un.

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Hunt 5 November 27 - December 1

Almost every Adobe Lodge hunt produces some unique event. It didn't take long on Hunt # 5. Would you believe about 15 seconds?

Here's the story: guide Bill Scott had taken his two hunters to the area that party had drawn for the first afternoon's hunt. Mike Terrace, from Chester, NY, who has hunted with us several times, was barely in the door of his blind while Bill and the other hunter, John Sars, were helping him get situated. Bill, as a good guide will do, quickly scanned the area. Good Grief and Holy Tamole. There out to the right of the blind maybe 50-75 yards away was a shooter if there ever was one. He was hot on a doe and oblivious to the nearby hunting party. Bill whispers - Mike - get that right window down - there stands a good'un. Mike hadn't even been there long enough to load his gun. Quickly, he shoved-in two rounds, got that cross-hair on the old boy, and bang.  It was over. O.K. , o.k. - maybe 15 seconds is a bit of an exaggeration. It was probably more like twenty seconds.  Even so, Mike's hunt was easily the shortest Adobe Lodge buck hunt ever.

But Mike followed the advice he'd heard at the kickoff meeting - "All hunts don't have a story book ending. When the one you want shows himself, you need to be prepared to shoot, even on the first afternoon." Only an eighth of an inch less that 130, Mike's buck holds down the No. Four slot at this point in the season.  So Mike earned for himself a Texan's highest compliment: "He Done Good". But we had to remind Mike that the Adobe Lodge has a long-standing policy - we don't "charge by the hour", and that he could expect no discount.

Mike was a party of one. The aforementioned John Sars, back for the third year, was one of the party of five Virginians. David Turner (Fredericksburg) and Mark Tiller (Disputanta) were here for the first time last year. Mark's son, Brett (same town) and brother Carl Tiller (Hopewell) were the only two first-timers in camp.  David's teenage son, Andrew, was in camp as a non-hunter, but on the final day, the pair ventured to a nearby high-fenced ranch so Andrew could harvest a management buck.

After that strong opening by Mike Terrace, things, then, got even better. Later that first afternoon, Brett Tiller collected an even larger buck and was back at camp for his formal photo just at sundown - which made for one heck of a nice photo as you will see in the collection below. Brett's buck was an eighth shy of 137.

The next day, here came the wind. Almost every hunt this fall has had to endure at least one day of it.  Just describe the blustery conditions as disagreeable and dusty and let it go at that. No bucks were taken, although several were being seen. With all six in camp hunting under our "Trophy Option" price, they were understandably being choosy, and that's o.k.   Wisely, they were passing shots that were judged to be too far.

Mark Tiller and John Sars finally found bucks they wanted on the second afternoon, and both were good ones. But David Turner, hunting with Charlie Bowers, made a long, long stalk on a buck that moved into second place for the year. The ten pointer taped out 139 inches and change, but there was a problem with his cape, according to Mike Terrace who was generously and skillfully caping out all the heads. Seems that David's bullet went smack through both eyes of that buck.  After examining the damage, Mike judged the cape to be totally unusable by any competent taxidermist. But you know what? Getting a substitute cape would be a whole lot easier than finding another 139 inch buck. David frankly admitted that he had held his crosshairs on the buck's shoulder. But using an awkward rest on a nearby limber tree, he didn't have much time to get'er done. And maybe, somehow, that bullet got deflected from the shoulder target. Anyway, all's well that end's well.  Luck is still the most precious commodity to be carried by a hunter of whitetails.

On the final full day, young Andrew, accompanied by David (now with that buck of his in the freezer), journeyed to the high fence ranch. The morning's hunt was fruitless, but the afternoon's hunt wasn't. Andrew collected a dandy eight pointer with his dad right there beside him.

Only Carl Tiller was unsuccessful in finding a buck he wanted, but it wasn't for lack of trying. He hunted hard right to the end, but it just wasn't to be. He settled for taking two does on that final morning.  Actually, he thought he'd missed both of them, but a check of the area found them (thank goodness), and he quit berating himself for his poor shooting when, in fact, he'd done pretty darn good. But not as good as Brother Mark, who had taken both his antlerless deer with one shot.

The post-hunt photo of the tally board, then, showed these totals: six hunters took five bucks and seven does. Three collected two/each; one took a single doe; two took no does. Andrew's buck, since he was taken elsewhere, isn't included in the totals. No critters were taken or reported. Except turkeys - their numbers are way up from last year when we were seeing very few.

We were extremely lucky on Hunt Five to enjoy the cooking of Ben McCulloch II, who is the head chef at his dad's Mustang Ranch Camp. Besides being one heck of a good cook, Ben can hold his own as a story teller, too. Ben was here to give our regular cook, Todd Varga, a bit of a break before he returns to cook the rest of the 2010 season hunts. Camp cooking is a demanding job, and remembering the old rancher's adage, "You don't ride a good horse to death", it was time for Todd to sleep-in for a few mornings.

A curious trait is being noticed among the deer in this area: they will sometimes walk away from corn on the ground. And recently, in making our rounds of ranches not being hunted, corn will be found still underneath a feeder at mid-day. What's going on? To underscore this phenomenon, you'll hear hunters complain that the deer drifted by their feeder but didn't hang around very long.  Another old saying comes to mind: You can lead a horse to water, but you can't make him drink." Nope - you can't make a deer eat corn either.

Making this odd behavior even more bizarre is the fact that we've been moaning about it for weeks now: it's dry. Super dry.  No winter weeds (the preferred diet of a whitetail) nowhere, no how.  You'd think that hungry deer would be standing in line to get an eating spot around a corn feeder. So we are once again faced with more questions than answers about our beloved whitetail deer.

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Hunt 4 November 20 - 24

Even with the near-record heat these past few days, the presence of the full moon , the wind and blowing dust coming almost every day, - despite all this - an incredibly mixed bag of game was brought back to camp on Hunt Four. The hunting around here is pretty dang good all the time. That's our claim, and we're sticking to it.

Get this: in addition to twenty deer (seven bucks and thirteen does), the full camp of hunters collected a bobcat, two foxes, a raccoon and a turkey.

For at least eight or nine years in a row now, Lyle Olson from Chapin, SC has been hunting with us. As a matter of interest, and to prove a point, on that first hunt many years ago, Lyle called needing to find a place to hunt in the next 48 hours. Yep, we managed to fit him in, and darned if he hasn't been returning each succeeding year. A few years ago, he started bringing his ole' buddy, Ed McFarland, also from South Carolina.  As it so happened on this trip, Ed took a nice ten-point buck and three does. Lyle, hunting under our "Trophy Option" package, just never found a buck he judged to be worth the trophy fee. But Lyle did manage to gather-in a doe plus one of the aforementioned foxes.

First coming as single hunters three years ago, both Frank Kollar from Crozet, VA and John Romine from Oklahoma City, have now firmly established themselves as a hunting pair. John says that in 2010, he should be considered to be in his "junior year" as a deer hunter since he managed to avoid the sport until he entered "Whitetail University" back in '08 . Yep, he took bucks both in his freshman and sophomore years. Here now as a "junior", Bro. John outdid himself with a dandy seven pointer.  It is fair to say he is now hooked - a hopeless antler addict, evermore in quest of "the big'un". Admittedly, the Adobe Lodge was partly to blame for his downfall.

John did, indeed, take a nice buck on this hunt, but he earned a special feather in his cap by collecting his first-ever bobcat. A 21 pound female, in fact. Good spots and beautiful, she was. Truth-be-told, it was revealed that John had missed an opportunity at yet another cat the day before simply by being a little too slow on the trigger.  At the kickoff meeting, hunters are cautioned to use their rifle and scope, rather than their binoculars, to check-out any unusual movement they might see. Reason: bobcats/mountain lions/coyotes don't hang around for any length of time. Like the Boy Scout motto, it pays to "be prepared". To shoot, that is.

Oh, by the way - John and his guide, Charlie Bowers, spent an entire morning as they rattled and stalked a buck that always managed to give them the slip time after time. Come to think of it, that's what true hunting is all about, after all.

Frank Kollar, meanwhile, took for himself one heck of a nice nine pointer. Plus a doe. But now that second-bucks are being offered this year, if a hunter happens to see a particularly super-nice individual, Frank's antennas were up for just such an opportunity. It came.  On the final night, Frank brought a twenty-incher into camp.  For almost all Texans, the practical definition of a "trophy" is a buck with a 20" spread (unlike our New England friends, who are interested only in the weight of a particular animal).

Robert and Lily Maguire drove here all the way from Bremerton, WA (not far from Seattle). They had been here a couple of years ago. Both "filled up the board" by having something in each of the five columns on our tally board. Each took a buck and three does plus this: Robert took a nice raccoon (Lily had covetous eyes on that pelt), and Lily, herself, harvested her first-ever Rio Grande gobbler - a genuine dandy complete with an 8" beard and 1 1/8" spurs on both legs. Their truck was loaded down with venison as they pulled away from camp on that final morning. That gobbler might not be served for Thanksgiving, but he might very well be their Christmas meal.

Regarding bucks: sadly, Lily admitted to shooting the wrong buck.  A much larger one (and several more, to boot) was in the area. With all this going on, it is easy to get confused. So the classic mistake was made. Thankfully,Lily was comforted by Lyle Olson who admitted to doing the exact same thing here on a hunt a few years ago. Hey - let the hunter who is without mistakes cast the first stone.

Back for his second year in a row (and already booked back for 2011), was Bob Baker from Pierson, Florida. Bob found one wide buck (at 18 1/2") plus a couple of does. Bob might very well have had a third doe, but very unusual complications arose: just when Bob drew a fine bead on that likely third doe, all of a sudden, every thing in his scope turned yellow. Bright yellow. "WHAT IN THE WORLD?".  Looking now around his scope, Bob was startled to see a canary perched on the barrel of his rifle. O.K. - maybe it wasn't a canary - maybe it was a goldfinch. But to Bob, it was a canary, and if he said it, that's the way it was.

For the hunt, Bob was paired with a first-timer, Brett Zeller, from Linden, TX (near Texarkana).  We've never had such a dedicated, scent-conscious hunter at Brett. But as things go with our low-fence whitetail hunting, Brett just never found a buck he judged to be worth the trophy fee.  Meanwhile, his hunting partner, Bob Baker, was seeing a buck or two that Bob guessed would be acceptable to Brett.  Indeed, for the entire four days, Bob was seeing more bucks than was Brett. So goes hunting. Brett did, however, collect one of those foxes, so he wasn't skunked, and never mind the pun.

In summary then of the tale told above, here are the totals: eight hunters collected seven bucks - five took one each, and one hunter took a pair of bucks. Thirteen does were taken with three hunters harvesting three/each; one taking a pair of antler-less deer; and two of the group collecting one/each. One hunter took no bucks and no does. As a matter of interest, depending on which ranch or group of ranches are being hunted on a particular date, we are able to offer third does. On some rotations, only two does can be offered. The doe harvest is based on the census work done a few weeks ago.

The current weather patterns in West Texas could be described as "not even chilly at daylight". Weather experts say that "La Nina" has returned, characterized by "above average temperatures and below average moisture."  Boy-is-it-ever. But even so, the hunting seems to be pretty darned good, at least most of the time, confirmed by the fact that eight hunters put seven bucks on our tally board. Not to mention all the extraneous critters.

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Hunt 3 November 15 - 19

You take some good-ole-boys from North Carolina (3), Georgia (2), and Louisiana (4), then mix the nine ingredients up well and blend in four days of Texas whitetail hunting.   You are guaranteed a batch of fun and you might just wind up with some good bucks, to boot.

Several years ago, the Lineberger group from NC first met the Shreveport guys headed by Rick Pierce. They have continued to re-connect right here at our Home Camp every fall since then, and darned if they won't be back as a group in 2011. Even the two new-comers from Georgia will be a part of next year's deal. To re-state what has been said many times in our literature, we've seen life-long friendships develop right here on a hunt.

The NC guys are Carroll Lineberger Sr. and son, Junior, plus David Hatfield. From Louisiana came Rick Pierce, Richard Willis and Mitch Perdue. Todd Davison, also from LA, had to clock-in late, but never mind - he collected the hunt's largest buck. The two first-timers, both from Georgia and long-time friends, were Jimmy Walker and Henry Cooper, both very experienced hunters.

Those who hunt with us year after year get ever-more and ever-more selective each succeeding year. And so it was with these guys. By the half-way point in the hunt, only Carroll Senior had anything on the board - one lone doe. But you ought to have seen what their cameras were finding.

And the rattling, as you might expect since the rut is now well underway, was working. But the rut is at least two weeks early. Admittedly, the rattling doesn't always bring up a buck for close inspection no more than a line cast upon the waters will bring up a fish every time. But when a buck is rattled up, your heart rate will bounce like a rubber ball. Just being out amongst the deer in their environment is quite an experience. Greg Brawley guided and rattled for David Hatfield, but David's fine buck was finally stalked after at least a five mile walking tour of that pasture. Unsuccessful at rattling-in that rascal, Greg changed tactics and urged David to "neak-up" on him. (Sneak-up in non-Texan).

And it was David's buck, the first taken by the way, that was used to play a giant trick on all the rest of us in camp. Even the official camp photographer and web master was fooled by the ploy.   To understand how experienced hunters and guides could be fooled, you need to understand that our "photo studio" (a handy spot out in the yard by the skinning shed, with some trees cleared to enable daytime photos of "horns-against-sky") is about twenty yards or so from where arriving trucks park. So a new arrival's first look at a buck in the photo studio is not exactly a close-up. But if a buck has a pretty good set of antlers on him, you can see them from a distance.

When all of us victims got our first look at David's buck, he looked like he'd go beyond "Buck of the Year" to "Buck of the Century".  The close-up photos below clearly reveal the crime and the methods used. Yep, it was a mighty-fine sting alright.

Just like the old-time stories of "Cowboys and Indians" out west, there are legends of moon shiners in North Carolina. But you really never expect to see such anymore. To be entirely fair, that term doesn't begin to describe Carroll Lineberger, Sr. Oh sure, he cooks up bottles and bottles of home-made adult beverages, but he has taken the skill to a fine art. And bless-his-heart, he generously shares his array of products with the whole camp.  You might compare Hunt 3 with an extended tour through some wine country.

Unfortunately, for the first time this season, we had to enter the dreaded "DNF" (did-not-find) notation for Mitch Perdue's buck. Yep, lots of blood was found - at least for a several yards - then only a droplet here and there, then - finally - nothing.  A day-long search of the entire area by several guides, hunters, and staff found zip, zero, nada. The disappointed Mitch returned to the gun range and sure-enough, somehow his gun, which had checked out perfectly during the pre-hunt shooting, was found to be about four inches low. Lesson: shooting at a target to double-check your gun is never a waste of bullets.

Sadly, the weather in West Texas continues the dry pattern which set in a few months ago. Yet another dry front blew through on Wednesday and you could see a bit of blowing dust in the air. Just barely up now, our wheat crop will be totally gone in a couple of weeks without a drink of some kind.  Almost always, each four day hunt will provide one super-good day. And sure-enough, the day after the front was just perfect - high 20's at daylight, warming to about 60 by mid-afternoon and not a breath of wind. Deer movement was pretty good all throughout the hunt and never mind the wind. But the troops waited until almost the final quarter of the game to begin the harvest. The final tally for the nine hunters in camp was seven bucks plus the DNF, and eight does. One hunter collected two, six took one each, and two took none. No javelinas or turkeys were taken (although many, many birds were seen), and no varmints/critters were reported. The discriminating hunters were focused on buck deer, and the photos below confirm the fact that they did mighty good in their quest.

So a year from now, we will be looking forward to the return of all these great guys. And to the return of Carroll Sr. with his boxes full of bottles.

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Hunt 2 November 10-14

For months now, Hunt 2 had a full slate of eight hunters. But right at the last minute, Craig and Justin Boehler had to postpone their 2010 hunt with us due to family health issues back home in Amsterdam, NY. They rescheduled for January. But even with only six hunters in camp, things were mighty lively and tons of fun. Reason: both Tony Rocco and Ray Hudgens just happened to be on the same hunt date. With this pair of live-wire extroverts, there wasn't a dull minute for four whole days despite the fact that Hunt Two was a particularly diverse group with four parties of one and one party of two, all from different states.

Tony, from Tewksbury, MA was on his fourth successive hunt with us hoping to finally reach his unfulfilled goal of collecting a javelina. Although recent reports from hunters and guides have located the desert pigs at numerous locations, javelinas are unpredictable, to say the least. Here today, gone tomorrow. They are impossible to pattern. On his earlier hunts with us, this trait of theirs had totally confounded Tony's ambition of hanging one on his wall.  During all his previous hunts, he had yet to see one, and was about to decide that javelina hunting was the Adobe Lodge version of snipe hunting.

But early in the hunt, Tony's luck quickly took a welcomed change for the better.  Not only did he collect the long-sought-after javelina, he also brought in a dandy buck plus a doe, all from that first morning's hunt. He was elated, to say the least. Tony then spent the rest of the four days hunting another doe (yep, he did) and a possible bobcat (nope, not this time).

Since 1999, Ray Hudgens from Jupiter, FL has hunted with us most every year.  Ray, (a traveling salesman by trade who knows every joke ever told and is a fantastic story-teller, to boot), loves to hunt here with us when the rattling is hot. Boy-was-it-ever this year. Ray's guide, Greg Brawley, rattled-up several, but the story got good when he rattled up a little four-pointer.  The curious little fellow cautiously came to within just a few yards of the pair, his attention totally affixed on these two strange creatures in his world.  Both guide and hunter were similarly focused on the approaching four-pointer, watching his reaction to the noise of the rattling antlers. So focused, in fact, that neither hunter nor guide happened to notice that Mega-Bullwinkle Himself had also come to the rattling horns and was standing a bit off to the side but similarly close, just out of their line of vision with the bantam-buck. When the pair finally saw him, it was too late. They'd spent way-yonder too much time playing with the small guy. Yep, the big-un got away. But Ray could only describe the size of the old-boy by pointing out a similar-sized buck on our display of "Bucks of the Year". Talk about heart palpitations! During rattling season, don't leave home without those pills you take. And look around in all directions while you're rattling, for crying-out-loud.

Ray finally collected his buck from a blind on the third morning of the hunt. But that, too, created another story, the punch line of which contains words that have never, ever been spoken in the entire history of this hunting camp. Seems that Bro. Ray had spotted a shooter coming in to the feeder. "Oh Boy. This Is The One. Gotta Wait For The Right Shot. But not yet - too many limbs.  I know I can get a clear shot when he comes to the opening where the feeder is located." Etc, etc. Ray can't help but give himself plenty of advice.

But suddenly, a terrifying thought comes to Ray.  There is an approaching crisis of Biblical proportions. Ray knows that the feeder is set to go-off at 7:30.  When it does, that buck will bolt when the kernels of corn pepper him like bird shot. He will surely leave the country, never to be seen again.

Ray, still focused on the buck, quickly checks his watch. It's 7:26. The buck is only a few feet from the clearing, but is still behind some brush. Still no chance for a shot.  The buck takes a couple more steps, remaining obscured. It's 7:28. Ray is frantic that the feeder will scare the buck away. Visions of disaster are about to unfold.  He is on pins and needles as he checks the whereabouts of the buck, then again checks his watch. He prays silently, each passing second seeming like an hour. What to do? What to do?

And that is how it came to be. The unspoken words were finally uttered by Ray. He said, and this is an actual quote here: "I hope that feeder doesn't go off". After twenty-five-plus years, we never thought we'd hear that particular phrase. Ever. But, for the record, there it is, and Ray Hudgens said it.  He will carry that burden for the rest of his life.

Jeff Farlow and his sixteen-year-old son, Hunter, are from Chesapeake, VA. Hunter has taken a few deer back home, but being plenty patient, the buck he took on this hunt is easily his best so far. His dad, Jeff, can claim a couple of "firsts" with the cross bow he used: his first-ever deer (a doe) with the weapon, and his first-ever buck, the next day.  It just might have been a first-ever for the camp, as well. Our official camp historian can find no mention in the archives of a cross bow ever being used successfully on an Adobe Lodge hunt.

Ted Cribari, from Los Gatos, CA was last year's winner of the raffle to benefit Charlie Bowers. Ted returned this year to collect a dandy buck plus a javelina which had eluded him last year. Of course, Charlie was Ted's guide, and the other member of that hunting party was Matt Shubert from Zionsville, PA. Matt has hunted with us for the past several years in a row. This year, Matt had to go almost to the end of the hunt before finally finding the one he wanted. When he put him on the ground and was then watching carefully to be sure the buck didn't somehow come to his feet, wouldn't you know it. A super-monster appeared off to the side. Why do the big ones always show themselves after a hunter has made his selection? Only Ted said that his buck was the largest he saw during the hunt. The others all said they had seen bigger during the four days.

On the final morning, only Matt hunted. His quarry - a javelina.  Yep, he got one - the third one taken on the hunt.

On an Adobe Lodge Home Camp hunt, most all critters (if they happen to be seen) can be taken for free including mountain lions, bobcats, coyotes, feral hogs, etc. etc. The only game which carries a trophy fee of $300 are these two: javelinas and turkeys. All money raised is donated to "Water For All", a ministry created and led by Terry Waller, who has been associated with the Duncan Ranch since he was a teenager working here as a ranch hand. Check out the "Water For All" website at www.waterforallinternational.org   So that worthy organization, thanks to Ted Cribari, Tony Rocco, and Matt Shubert and their javelina success on this hunt, will have a nice donation to add to their important work.

We missed a good chance for rain during this hunt, and folks, that moisture is now badly needed. If the wind doesn't blow much, you can see every track made by every critter in the dusty powder in every road. That front which came through midway through the hunt put the morning temperatures down to about 30 or so with a decent frost.  Daytime temperatures are in the fifties or sixties. So the growing season is officially over for the year, and the leaves on the mesquite and pecan trees will soon be on the ground. All this is right on schedule with our official "first freeze" being about Nov. 16. What's not on time is the rut. It is now, without a doubt, in full swing. This major annual event doesn't normally begin in our area until the last few days of November. Easily two weeks early, the rut is now up and running, hot and heavy.  The bucks aren't weighing as much as they normally do this time of year, and the does are really losing weight - ribs showing on some of them, and all that. Due, no doubt to the dry fall. If it stays this dry on through the rest of the year, the deer will have a struggle by late winter.

Here, then, are the totals found on our tally board in the skinning shed: six hunters collected six bucks and eight does. Three javelinas were taken. But a hunt's success can't be measured by numbers.  It was a bunch of fun, and you just needed to be there to see why.

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Hunt 1 November 5-9

So far this season, we have hosted only multi-year Adobe Lodge veterans. The trend continued on Hunt #1. A couple of parties of two and a couple of parties of one (making a total of six, for you who are mathematically challenged). All drove into camp promptly at noon on Friday. No trips to pick up hunters at the airport or motel for this hunt date.  It would be easy to get spoiled with this treatment.

Although the thermometer dipped to 31 degrees that Friday morning, our official first freeze of the fall, the weather warmed up nicely for the balance of the hunt. High forties at daybreak; low eighties during the afternoons. Maybe a little warm for traditional deer hunting weather, but you know what? There is no doubt about it now - the rut is officially under way. There were just too many reports from the hunters - bucks already running hard after does.  And for the first time this season, a buck was seen at 9 a.m. standing right out in the open, fixated on some hot doe, and oblivious to any threat. Case closed. All the evidence is in. The rut's started. But here's the deal: this annual sexual activity is at least two weeks early. What could that mean?

We'll know for sure later, but it would appear that Mother Nature, for Her own good reasons, wants Her fawns born early next spring. At least, that is one opinion. If we only had the sense to read the all signs She leaves for us everywhere. If we only had the eyes to see and the ears to hear.  Interpreting, or even noticing "the signs" is a lost art, now that we all depend on the Weather Channel.

Tom Biehl and son, Hunter (what a name for a client, eh?) have hunted here numerous times. This year, on the drive down from the Pennsylvania Dutch country, Hunter's daughter, by text-messaging (what else?) cooked up a little bet for Dear Old Dad and Granddad. Who would take the best buck?  Didn't take Tom long to nominate his candidate - the first morning he brought in a dandy 11 pointer.  Hunter, then, was under pressure to find one better.  He came close, on the final night, but had to let his dad walk off with the prize.   Both bucks were nearly identical though.

It didn't take long for brothers Frank and Roger Daley, similarly both multi-year Adobe Lodge veterans, to find bucks that met their standards. Frank hails from Amherst, NH, and Roger lives a few miles away in Tewksbury, MA.  The very first afternoon, after listening to the pre-hunt admonition to be cautious in turning down a good one, the Daley Boys collected bucks that were virtual twins. You'll see their photos below. Given a choice between the pair, most hunters would, no doubt, resort to flipping a coin. Before the hunt concluded, the Daleys harvested three does between them.

As an aside to this report on deer hunting, attention in West Texas among ranchers, hunters and outdoorsmen, has been drawn to the severe decline in the numbers of rabbits. Whereas hundreds - nay, thousands - of both jack rabbits and cottontails were formerly to be found hereabouts on our hunting properties, nowadays you will drive miles and miles and see nary a one. Disconcerting, but spooky.

Both Frank and Roger, following in the footsteps of their dad back home in New England, were dedicated rabbit hunters years ago. They kept packs of Beagle hounds and spent lots of time hunting "hares" (as they call them). The rabbit population in MA and NH began its decline in the 70's, and by the 1990's, it was hard to find enough rabbits to hunt. Now, they rarely see one anywhere, anytime.  Has the same permanent decline begun in our own West Texas rabbit population? Non-alarmists will point out that local rabbit populations have always had wild swings up and down. Maybe so. But in listening to Frank and Roger bemoan the final end of the sport they loved so well, it was distressing, to say the least, that something similar could be afoot among our rabbit herd.

Back for the third year in a row, Walt Wilkin, Elizabethtown, PA, collected a high-horned buck, and the widest of the lot exceeding eighteen inches. Walt also took a couple of does.

The only hunter in camp who failed to take home a deer was Lynn Patterson from Odessa, TX (about 130 miles northwest of here, so he didn't have as much of a drive as some of the others). Lynn is a dedicated bow hunter, and over the many years he has hunted with us, we've never known him to resort to a gun.  Lynn knows our blinds as well as we do, and he brings a portable bow blind to use opportunistically either on the river or up in the hills. Lynn finally saw the one he wanted, but he wasn't about to attempt that sixty-yard shot. Being so close to his quarry, Lynn will describe every last detail of every buck he sees. He sets his goal pretty dog-goned high and won't even think about taking any lesser trophy. And that's plenty o.k. with us.

So here the final tally: six hunters collected five bucks. Seven does were taken by the group; three took two, one took one, and one took zip. The weather, although a bit warm by traditional deer hunting rules, seems to have done nothing but heat-up the rut.  Maybe it's not weather related, but once again on a couple of occasions during this just-concluded hunt, an individual would see not one deer of any kind at his blind.  Historically, for us, this is an anomaly of major proportions. Global warming? Nahhh, out of the question. Clearly, it is the Dallas Cowboys' fault.

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Hunt D October 31 - November 4

Anyone who thinks that hunting deer in extremely hot weather is a waste of time ought to talk to John A. Newsome from Effingham, IL.

Get this: on the first afternoon of the hunt, our fair city set a heat record. Indeed, it was said that we were the hottest place in the nation on that day with 95 degrees. San Angelo's largest annual event, the big match calf roping and steer roping was going on, and beer sales on that day were similarly setting records.

But back to John A, better known as John, Jr. - - -

Son of our legendary hunter, John R. Newsome from Shumway, IL, John Jr. has hunted with us numerous times, as well, but not nearly so many as his dad. Anyway, on that very, very hot afternoon, Jr. collected a twelve-pointer which easily tops last year's "Buck of the Year" in the Home Camp. The old boy taped seventeen inches outside and weighed 155. That same tape found just a whisker under 148 inches of bone on his head.  Main beam length was an incredible 25 inches.

So we might draw several conclusions from this event, to wit:  extreme heat didn't at all affect that buck's movements on that scorching day.  Furthermore, John Jr. followed the advice he'd heard at the kickoff meeting - be prepared to take your buck even on the first afternoon. Whereas the temptation is to "look'em over" a bit (women would describe the process as "shopping"), not all hunts have a story book ending.  The super-trophy is not always taken just minutes before the end of the hunt on the final day.  First-day mega bucks are not at all uncommon. A competent historian, if we had one on staff, could make a list of "first-dayers" taken during our twenty-five-plus years of outfitting.

We hosted only three hunters on this hunt.  In addition to the Newsome pair, Don White from Belen, NM was back for his second year in a row. Don, hunting our "Trophy Option" price (described on the Prices Page of this website), was unable to find a buck he judged to be worth the fee. But Don readily collected three does and got himself prepared for the coming winter back home with plenty of boned-out venison. Sadly, on the final morning of the hunt, Don had to clock-out before daylight to rush home to take care of his ailing wife. Would the final half-day he missed have produced a worthy buck? Sure might have, but you just never know.   Don promises to return in 2011. It will be a treat to have him in camp once again.

John Newsome Senior has hunted here so many times, we've even named a blind after him.  Three trips booked for 2010; five trips to hunt here last season. Mercy - thanks John, and we can't wait to see you come December and January.  Clearly, John absolutely loves Adobe Lodge-style hunting.

Interestingly enough, John is always more focused on "the shot" presented to him than in whatever size or quality of the buck presented. Truly, on scores of hunts with us over the past fifteen years, John has made some remarkable shots. We have neither time nor space to detail all of them.  But on this hunt, John's 2010 feat set the bar so high, even he won't be able to surpass it. Get this: John killed three bucks - yep, THREE BUCKS - all with one shot.  Lined-em up perfectly, and touched one off. Down they went like dominos. His gun, a Lazzeroni .338 Titan, is fully capable of doing the deed with its 190 grain bullet. On several occasions, John has been known to collect a pair of bucks with a single shot. But everyone knows that three of a kind will beat a pair any day.  For now, John is the Lone Champion of the Triple Play. This record will last longer than Babe Ruth's home-run feat.

Following that hot beginning to the hunt, the wind turned out of the north for the next three days.  Strong and steady but (sadly), dry.  On the third day, it picked up even more. Maybe 30 mph with gusts above that. So surely that gale put the deer down if the hot weather didn't? Nope.  John Sr. collected a 12 pointer that afternoon and son John Jr. got one that was 21 3/4" wide. So much for conventional wisdom. A whitetail is about as predictable as - er, ah, - heck - there is no critter as unpredictable.

Yeah, yeah. I know some of you are counting bucks as the story moves along and you are curious how John Sr. could take four bucks just on this hunt alone while having at least two additional hunt dates scheduled for later in the season.  The explanation is the "MLD" program (Managed Lands - Deer) through the Texas Parks and Wildlife Department. Landowners who choose to participate in the program must jump through several hoops - deer census studies, dedicated management practices, extensive deer measuring and record keeping, etc. etc.  When a landowner/manager is finally issued MLD tags (once the census work and harvest recommendations are completed), the manager is free to issue the allotted tags however he/she sees fit. For example, if given ten MLD tags, the manager can give (or sell) them to ten different hunters, or ten tags can be provided to one, lone hunter.  A Texas license for our area basically has five tags: two bucks and three does. But the good news is that by using an MLD tag, a hunter doesn't "burn-up" one of the regular tags on the hunting license. If that's not one heck of a deal, I don't know what is.

And the good news for us outfitters is that we get to sell hunts outside the "regular" Texas season. If we could find the hunters and sufficient bucks, we could host hunters from early October until late February.  In that regard, we have created a new post-season, lower-priced hunt.   It is scheduled for late-January. Call or email for information.

As a side note to this hunt, loyal readers will recall that on a couple/three occasions during the previous hunt, hunters reported seeing not one deer while at their assigned blind. Curious, very curious was the thinking at the time. Usually hunters see multiple deer of all kinds. Subsequently, however, we heard some news that might explain that situation. Seems that an oil-field employee (known hereabouts as a "pumper"), saw a mountain lion on the very ranch being hunted on the previous date.

Ah-ha. If a lion was truly in the area, that would explain things. Conventional wisdom around coffee shops or camp fires (are there any other similar sources of unimpeachable information?) has it that deer will quickly vacate any area inhabited, even briefly, by a mountain lion. This bulletin is passed along for whatever it is worth.

So to wrap things up before getting to the photos below, here are the totals:  three hunters collected a total of six bucks: one took four, one took two, and one took none.  Six does were collected by the group. And every bit of the meat went back home to either Illinois or to New Mexico - all wrapped, packaged, and frozen, too.

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Hunt C October 26-30

(Hunts A and B were cancelled. Can't put on a hunt if you don't have hunters.)

With every hunter on Hunt C being a seasoned Adobe Lodge veteran, their "selectivity-factor" was off the charts. Moreover, and you might find this one hard to swallow, most of the guys came to harvest only does. To heck with buck hunting, no matter the size of his horns. This was their trait back in 2009, and it continued this year. Indeed, according to the guide's reports, several dandy bucks were turned down in favor of their doe hunting.

A quick look back into our old newletter archives (the Adobe Lodge News and World Report 1986-2006 - R.I.P), finds proof that several members of this group hunted with us for the first time way back in 1994.   Headed by Gary Weiler, Frank Allseits, Hans Osterhues and Ron Hofmann, they have been here countless times since. "Newcomers", but Adobe Lodge veterans nonetheless, included Greg Heideman, Pat Kelly, Andre Osterhues, and Meredith Kuehl. Except for Andre and Meredith who live in Colorado, all the rest hail from the Chicago area.

So doe-hunters they are - mostly. And they did better this season than last.  Our tally board in the skinning shed logged a total of eighteen does (three more than a year ago), with exactly the same number of bucks as 2009 - three for the group of eight hunters. Plus a fox. Greg Heidemen got him. Regarding deer, Frank, Hans, and Greg each harvested a couple of does. Ron got a buck and a doe. Andre took three does. Only Pat and Meredith ran the table. Both hunters filled their entire quota by taking a buck and three does each.

Ron Hofmann saw a covey of three coyotes, too, but was somehow unable to get a shot off at any of them. Doggone the luck anyway. And, come to think of it, someone saw a drove of javelinas, which is historically unusual in the area being hunted (eight thousand-plus acres on a couple of ranches). Not unusual was the large numbers of turkeys seen by almost everyone.

Deer movement here in late October ran from good to bad. On a couple of occassions, a hunter would report seeing nary a deer around his corn feeder. Could it be the large acorn crop? Could it have been the unusually warm weather? Who knows?  Indeed, except for one chilly morning (38 degrees) following a mild front the day before, the weather was mostly 50 at daybreak and in the low 80's by mid-afternoon. We had a good rain about a week ago, but because it has been so dry for the past sixty days, nothing much green can be found anywhere. So the corn feeders ought to be attracting good numbers of deer. When they don't, you simply have to scratch your head and marvel at how much we have yet to learn about a whitetail.

Guide Jerry Watts said he rattled-up a buck for Greg who turned him down for lacking some width in his antlers.  And someone else reported seeing a buck with you-know-what on his mind chasing does all over the place. So these events, coupled with other similar reports, suggest that the rut is right around the corner. Let'er come. We have hunters who are ready to take care of things.

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