Mayhem in Nebraska

All 2.5 of the Alaskan Luber’s made the trek back to Nebraska for what seems to be our annual family reunion, Deer Season…and its a week filled with much anticipation.

This year the deer numbers and percentage of good bucks we saw was about the best anyone had ever seen. We started calling it the “Year of the Clones,” due to all of the nice 4x4 bucks we had all over the place. It seemed like we saw more bucks of this class than anything else. And that includes the little basket racks or forky young bucks that Uncle Wayne refers to as midgets.

For the first time ever, I opted to sit in the blind all day long on opening day. All told that first day I saw over twenty different bucks within shooting distance. But with Liz there only for the morning and evening times; and either passing on shots, couldn’t stop a buck in pursuit of a hot doe, or missed opportunities. We didn’t pull the trigger those first two days.

Monday morning we had a great opportunity for Liz to get a shot on what was an exceptional whitetail. Somehow she missed the 260yrd shot and we’re blaming it on the baby in the belly kicking her just as she was to pull the trigger. I guess the baby got buck fever! That’s not an excuse she’ll be able to use much longer…

Later that evening a nice buck came out along the far tree line working a trail away from us. It was a quick decision and I opted to shoot instead of Liz. At 309yrds, while he was walking, I made a great shot and dropped him on the spot. It was a bitter sweet success. I’d have much rather had Liz take the first buck for us, but now and then it’s the circumstances that dictate.

We had at least one other opportunity during the next couple days, but couldn’t close the deal on a good buck. Finally on a clear and cold Thursday morning, as the darkness faded into grey, there was a good one chasing a doe out in the bean field. Liz commented, “look at them running back and forth.” It was as if Liz’s whispered voice was a call to come in, for right then, they made a bee line directly for us and stopped at the fence 100yrds out. A brief second later, the rifle report cracked across the dawn calm and Liz’s tag was filled. He wasn’t a great deer for the size of his antlers, but was easily one of the oldest deer we harvested that year. His curved roman nose spoke more of a trophy than the size of his antlers.

All told we put 18 bucks and two doe in our freezers this year and many more memories in the mind to smile and dream on till next year. Liz and I have so much fun back there, we’re now wondering how in the world we’re going to be able to get baby in the blind with us next year. Might just have to hit up Grandma for some quality babysitting that first day or two!

And finally a quote from my cousin in response to headlines from the Newspaper midweek, “I guess you can’t clean your deer out in a carwash. Someone tried that in Lincoln.”


Looking forward to the mayhem next year!