By Tom Sabo

One of my best friends Walt and I have deer hunted together for many years in Alabama. After Walt moved back to his home state of Kentucky a few years ago, he and Pop, his father, found a small tobacco farm in northern Kentucky and began making their hunting hide-a-way. Walt invited me up for the annual 2002 gun season, and after a quick trip to the Kentucky Fish and Game website for a license, I packed my gear and headed north to the Bluegrass State.

Now the modern firearm season in Kentucky for deer is the second week of November. And, unlike Alabama, it's usually below freezing at night with sometimes one snowfall already. I had thermal underwear, wool socks, heavy camo, and arrived in Kentucky along with a strong low pressure system from the Gulf bringing high's in the upper 60's, lows in the 50's, and a wind of 25-35 mph. This was not the weather the deer hunters in Kentucky wanted for opening day of the 10 day season.

The only good thing about the wind was that with it was blowing so hard, it was easy to stay comfortable in my camo. Did I say blow? It didn't just blow, it howled! I was sitting 20 feet up in a permanent tree stand halfway up a ridge. Behind me the ridge descended down to a creek, some 150 yards away and when I would look down to the creek from around the tree, I had to put one hand on my hat to keep it from blowing away.

So here I had sat, rocking and creaking since daybreak. The time was now 10:30. We were coming in for lunch at 11:30, and I was looking forward to it. I honestly did not think there was a chance of seeing a deer on a day like this. In 30 years of deer hunting, I had never killed a deer on an unusually warm and very windy day like this. If I had been back home in Alabama, I probably wouldn't have even gone hunting to begin with.

Even through the noise of the wind, I heard the branch crack. I turned to my left and crossing at a trot 70 yards below me was the big 10 point and 2 does following close. He stopped the trio directly below me, in some small cedars. This gave me a chance to stand up, turn around, and be ready for his next move. As he stepped out, I squeezed the shot off. He went about 30 yards and lay down. The does never left him. I came down from the stand after about 15 minutes, and began walking down the hill to them. The does were watching me from the time I started down the tree, and even though I was now 10 steps from the buck, the does still wouldn't leave. Finally, I shouted and waved my cap and they ran off.

It took four of us to get the buck on the deer carrier for the trip back to the cabin. When we put the scale on and hoisted him up, the needle stopped at 232 pounds. Definitely the biggest body southern whitetail I have ever taken. And on the kind of day I will never forget! So much for never seeing deer on warm days with high winds.

Thanks Walt, to you and Pop, for the hunt, the deer, and the memory of a lifetime. And thanks to Mark and Mark's Outdoor for having the gear to make it happen.