Miscellaneous
I couldn’t have scripted the hunt any better. Whitetails — Dakota — were filing out one by one to the western Nebraska winter wheat field. In tow behind the brigade of does and fawns was a mature, classy-looking 4×4 buck only steps away from my muzzleloader tag. I was hidden in an abandoned irrigation pump site; and, as I scanned the field one more time to ensure my concealment I turned to check on the buck. To my astonishment, the buck was gone. I gripped my T/C Triumph firmly and eased up on my knees to get a better viewpoint. Questioning my first sighting, I sighed when I spotted him again, bedded a mere 60 yards away. Unfortunately, I only had eyeballs and antlers in view. I knew I didn’t have a shot. Plus, shooting light was fading faster than a toddler on an all-day shopping marathon. My mind raced with headache ferocity as I tried to find an answer to my muzzleloader dilemma.