By Loren Roe

Having grown up in the Ozark mountains in Missouri, I, like many other deer hunters have been pursuing the "buck of a lifetime" since I was old enough to carry a gun. After 28 years of chasing the dream thing and settling for less than trophy class wall-hangers, I had settled into the "rut" of filling the freezer first! Yet the space on the wall remained bare. All of that changed when one of my hunting buddies turned me on to a product worth its weight in "liquid gold"!

The 2001 deer season started out the same way as it had any other year. Bow season came and went and I saw plenty of deer, but it seemed as though they understood what bow range meant! Then, opening day of gun season came, and it too passed. A few days later, a decent six pointer came in and offered me a clean shot so I took it. Now with meat in the freezer it was time to get serious! I asked my friend Barry to go with me to pick out some more new gadgets to try and believe me "I've tried most of them."

We went to our local outfitter and looked at everything from deer in a can, to what was supposed to be deer in a bottle! After spending several hours browsing, we gathered up our bag of new tricks and headed home, I hardly slept that night. I just knew tomorrow would be the day! The next morning before daylight, we trekked in to one of our favorite hunting spots. We knew that there were several good bucks working the area, but because they were mature animals and had probably gone nocturnal, we knew that taking one of them would be a challenge. Our confidence level soared as we brought out all the trinkets, gizmos and gadgets that we had acquired in anticipation of this day's hunt.

At about 07:30 that morning, Barry's 30-06 made a loud crack! I waited a few moments before descending to the ground and easing toward his stand to help. When I arrived he was pretty excited! He had taken a decent five pointer but tiwas not "the man." After field dressing and loading the buck, we headed to our favorite processing plant. That's when our luck and hunting strategies would change forever. While at the processing plant a couple of local boys pulled up with a real nice twelve pointer in the back of their truck. Witnessing someone else's success always leads to the question, "How did you do it?" "Elkwood Scents" came the reply. "Well where can I get some?" That's when Jerry, our butcher, spoke up and said, "I have some in here." Jerry disappeared for a minute then came back and held up two frosty bottles. He said, "This stuff keeps me in business and these two are on the house!"

After that we unloaded Barry's buck and headed for home. Barry had to work so I thought I'd go back to our hunting spot and try Elkwood Doe in Estrus on a drag rag to lay down a good scent trail, then slip back in later to hunt my stand. I walked in a big circle about four hundred yards from my stand placing a fresh drop on the rag about every fifty yards or so. I went toward known bedding and feeding areas as I worked back toward my stand. Once I arrived at my stand location, I made a mock scrape and placed a little Elkwood Buck urine in it. Then I quietly slipped out of the area about 10:45 that morning. At 2:45 that afternoon I eased back into my stand location and squeezed out a few drops of Elkwood Doe in Estrus on a scent wick and hung it about three feet off the ground on a low hanging limb. I climbed up into my stand and remained silent for about 15 minutes. Then I pulled out my doe in estrus bleat call and and hit a few times softly. A few minutes later I hit my grunt tube four times. "That's when all Hades broke loose!"

Two big ten pointers came charging in to stop below my stand. Things happened pretty fast from there! Not knowing which one to take, I looked for the one with the biggest body. Placing the cross hairs of my Browning 270 behind the shoulder I gently squeezed off a round. The buck bolted forward and began sniffing the dirt at a trot. He ran about 25 yards and then nose-dived into the ground. The other buck high-tailed it across the field, then stopped as though he wanted to come back! But I focused my attention to the rack on the ground. My knees were shaking and my heart felt as though it would beat right out of my chest! when I regained my composure and climbed down from my stand, I could tell there was no ground shrinkage to this big boy. It was all I could do to drag him the hundred or so yards to my truck.

In the past twenty-eight years I've killed my share of deer, but this was one hunt I"ll never forget! I have a 140-class reminder on