If there ever was a time of year to be in Penn’s Woods, it was this past week.

Archery hunters, muzzleloader enthusiasts, small game and waterfowl hunters all shared the local fields and streams in pursuit of their favorite pastimes. I was entertaining my cousins with archery and muzzleloader hunting opportunities.

One wanted to hunt archery while the other wanted to try his hand at inline muzzleloader. All I knew was that I would be dogging the thickets and woods in hopes that I would put some deer past them.

We had been seeing deer regularly and this was a good time to be in the woods as the weather was perfect.

Did you ever plan out something and if anything could go wrong it did? This hunt was beautifully planned, but unfortunately, our execution of the plan left little to be desired.

I was hoping the duck hunters would move some deer for us and we hunted along a feeder stream to the Slippery Rock Creek. I saw deer alright, jumping to the other side of the creek bank and away from us.

My cousin John reported seeing a nice pair of wood ducks paddle by him on the waterway. We decided to do some sitting and still hunting for the evening. I decided to hike a ridge trail to a stand of saplings and mature oaks. The plan was to get between the deer’s bedding areas and the feeding area.

The climb was steep and my only thoughts were that deer climb these hills effortlessly in seconds. I noticed that on one of the benches a buck had been busy making rubs and a scrape line.

Everything was looking fresh, so I knew that the pre-rut was started. I looked down the trail and I spied some movement, a flicker of sorts.

There it was again — this time I made out the outline of a deer. Yes, it was a buck, and he was freshening up a scrape in hopes that some doe would be interested in him.

A careful investigation of his rack proved to reinforce my thoughts that he wasn’t the one that I wanted this early in the season.

It was getting late in the day and I wanted to work my way up to the top of the ridge, so I continued on up as I had obtained a rest checking out the buck on the bench.

I finally made it to the top and walked down an old logging trail looking for more sign of active deer. I found a hot spot that had a whole line of active scrapes that looked fresh with no leaf litter in them. I picked out a spot near an intersection of trails and settled in for the evening hunt with the hope that a visitor would come and check his scrapes.

Chipmunks and squirrels nearly drove me batty as they made relentless rustling in the dry leaves. Each rustle caused me to look in the direction of the sound to make certain it wasn’t a buck.

One minute the edge was clear and then in an instant a buck appeared about 75 yards away. He was sporting a nicer rack than the first buck and had my interest. The wind was blowing toward me and he had no idea that I was at the end of the trail watching him.

Deer sort of have a sixth sense and they know if anything is amiss. This buck sensed something and tried to stare me down and did the quick head bob to see if I would react.

I did not fall for it and he lost interest in my area and started to watch a squirrel searching the woods for mast.

I decided that I was going to let him come closer as he was licking branches and testing the air as he walked closer. At point blank range, he took a quick left turn into some new growth. I was going to wait him out as I could see him filtering through the saplings toward me.

He stepped out in one smooth glide, was in the open and within a stone’s throw. He wasn’t the one, either, and in that instant he realized that I was a guy.

With three leaps, he was out of my range. I quietly called out after him saying, “I had you all the way … good luck it’s a long season!”