Just about every Adirondack deer hunter has stories of big buck encounters at the worst possible time. Stacking wood outside on a fall day. Driving to a high school soccer game or the post office. Walking the dog up the road just before sundown.
Always without a gun in their hand. Sometimes the buck of their dreams.
Although it hasn't happened to me yet this season, I do have plenty of such stories filed away. And it started early in my life as an Adirondack resident 15 years ago when, heading to a school board meeting, a bruiser of a rut-crazed buck strolled in front of me pickup one evening. His stiff-legged gait, swollen neck and heavy rack sent me into a rubbery-legged mess. I wobbled into the meeting, hands shaking, in need of a cigarette. And I don't smoke.
It happened again two years ago as I returned from the post office mid-morning, loaded down with three Labrador retrievers who had just taken an energetic run on the town golf course.
This time, however, it wasn't just a good buck. It was the biggest buck I'd ever seen in my life.
The nausea returns even as I type this. I see his rack: wide, thick, high, bright yellow with patches of deep brown. I see his body: thick, wide, long, definitely 200 pounds on the hoof, probably 200 or more field dressed. I see the leaves and rocks flying as he lumbers up the hill, bounding away with incredible power, then looking back one last time before shaking the rain off his body and strolling off into those big woods that require a serious effort to hunt.
I see our yellow Lab, Maddie, watching intently as the big buck – seriously big – leaps in front of the pickup, bounds up onto the bank and powers off. Even she was impressed. We both needed a cigarette.
I've seen big bucks before. I generally err on the side of caution, being careful not to become caught up in the excitement of the moment, sizing up the situation, and making sure I saw what I saw and then backing off my assessment a bit. Even after doing this, this remains the biggest buck I've ever seen, at least in looking at the total picture. The biggest rack? No. The biggest body? By far. Most beautiful whitetail ever? Easily.
This was the kind of buck that would cause a serious deer hunter to quit his job, leave his family for a month, sleep under a tarp and eat Ramen noodles every night in pursuit of him. In fact, we have a few guys up here in the Adirondacks who do that now.
In trying to size him up, the best I've come up with is that buck on the cover of Bryce Towsley's book, "Big Bucks the Benoit Way." Or, if you're handy with Photoshop, grab a picture of former MMA star Brock Lesnar and put a thick, even, high set of antlers on him.
What made the sighting even more painful was that the big boy was coming from an area where I'd spent most of my hunting time that fall. It's entirely possible – even though I don't want to think about it – he made his way past one of my watches an hour or two earlier.
That year, I could have been the one on the other end of the camera.
Oh, I still get out there, hoping another monster buck makes another swing through. It's about as unlikely as having him cross the road in front of you while you're singing a Brad Paisley tune, which is what I was doing when it did happen. So it can happen up here. And it does. I see the photos every year, hear my friend's stories. Watch big bucks get weighed in at a couple local taverns.
I drive to the post office every day, and this time of year when love-starved bucks are on the move I'm almost afraid to turn my head and check the woods and field, fearing I might see another buck of my dreams.
The easiest solution is to get out there and hunt, to be prepared when that encounter arrives, then close the deal and be the one on the other side of the camera for a change. Lots of folks do that up here every deer season.