by Luke Clayton
Sitting in a comfortable hunting blind on the side of a ridge in the foothills of the beautiful Ouachita Mountain Range in southeast Oklahoma with my longtime friend Larry Weishuhn, my mind backtracked to the time that this country was part of the Indian Territory. The Choctaw land we were hunting, owned by the Choctaw Nation, surely offered great hunting back then for the native people, but I doubt if any of them enjoyed such a comfortable blind, nor anything close to the conveniences of the Choctaw Hunting Lodge, where Larry and I were hoping to harvest one of those bruiser mountain whitetail bucks. The Choctaw Nation has done much to enhance the lands they were relocated to in 1830 with the signing of the Treaty of Dancing Rabbit, when they were moved from their homeland in Mississippi. Larry and I were as excited as a couple of teenagers on their first deer hunt.
I grew up just across the Red River in northeast Texas and southeast Oklahoma (Indian Territory), which was our playground back in the late 1950s and 1960s. This was really wild, remote country back then, and today there are still vast tracts of land that seldom see humans. We hunted the mountain country and fished the rivers in the southeast corner of Oklahoma. As a boy, I never dreamed one day I would be hunting as a guest of the Choctaws on such an awesome piece of land. The area known as Choctaw Hunting Lodge encompasses about 22,000 acres, including a huge preserve that is home to some big whitetail as well as several species of exotics. These rugged hills provide some of the most beautiful and game-rich country I’ve had the pleasure to spend time on. The Choctaw Nation owns another 20,000 or so acres adjacent to the Choctaw Lodge hunting area that is also intensely managed for wildlife. Dusty Vickrey and his lovely wife, Nacolh, ran the operation, which includes hunting, fishing, and private events at the 12,000 square foot lodge. I can’t say enough about the hospitality, excellent hunting, and meals prepared by Nacohl. Through the years, I have had the opportunity to visit and hunt, and fish here several times. I’ve come to look at these two as family. They are just that kind of people.
Larry’s schedule allowed him to begin hunting a couple of days before I arrived. As I pulled up to the lodge, I was greeted by Larry and Dusty Vickrey, and they promptly escorted me to the walk-in cooler. There hung a fine eight-point buck that Larry had taken the day before, as well as a couple more big deer taken by clients the past few days. There’s something very special about those pre-dawn thirty minutes before daylight while sitting in a blind in awesome whitetail country. The anticipation of a bruiser buck walking out of the brush is cause enough to get deer hunters out of a warm sleeping bag way before daylight and into the woods on a frosty fall morning, and I eagerly awaited sunrise. With his deer hanging in the cooler, Larry told me he was free to hunt with me and film our hunt. Our goal was to harvest a mature whitetail, gather fodder for this article, and film a segment of our show on Carbon TV, “A Sportsman’s Life”. Now, what better companion than Larry to spend time hunting whitetail deer with? They don’t call Larry “Mr. Whitetail” for nothing! He’s a storehouse of knowledge about anything ‘deer’ and through the years, I have learned a great deal from Larry and not all of it related to deer! In the distance, we heard a hunting pack of coyotes, probably heading to their den after a night of hunting. A barred owl sounded off in a tree nearby with its classic ‘who cooks for you’ serenade. The ‘owl talk’ was telegraphed back in the woods, answered by another owl in another tree somewhere, hunting its own territory, and I’m sure more owls out of earshot continued telling each other that night time, their time to hunt, was coming to a close and daylight would soon come to their mountain home.
To make things even more perfect, I was hunting with my new rifle, a Mossberg Patriot in 6.5 Creedmoor. My first deer gun was a bolt-action Mossberg shotgun loaded with a rifled slug. I never had the opportunity to use it on deer way back in the early sixties when I was a whipper snapper, but it sparked a lifelong love of Mossberg firearms. For many years, I hunted with a .243, and my new Creedmoor closely mimicked my old favorite but packs a good bit more punch. Back home, the week before I discovered what a tack driver the rifle is on paper, and I was anxious to put it to work on game. I had taken a couple of wild hogs with the rifle late the previous winter, but this was my first deer hunt with it, and after shooting at my neighbor’s range, I was full of confidence. My new rifle would do its job as long as I kept my wits about me when one of those big Oklahoma whitetails came slipping out of the brush. I’m an average shot, but my strong suit is patience. I wait for that perfect broadside shot before talking the slack out of the trigger, and I know my limitations. I practice for shots inside 150 yards but out of necessity, sometimes shoot game a bit farther out.
Dusty told us the stand we were hunting had been plagued by a good-sized boar. The critter had been running the deer away from the feeder almost on a daily basis. After thirty minutes into our hunt, Larry nudged me and poked a thumb out the window on his side of the blind toward some thick cover behind us. I could hear what sounded like hide scraping on tree bark; the boar was scratching his hindquarters on a small sapling near the edge of the clearing. We were watching four whitetail doe, and they also indicated “something” was heading their direction. All ears were pointed toward the approaching boar, and they were on high alert. A toothy old boar eased out of cover and, as any mature hog will do, made a circle around the area, nose in the air sniffing for danger. He would walk a few feet and then freeze in place and test the air, standing motionless for a solid minute or so before advancing toward the corn feeder. A mature wild boar is as smart as any animal in the woods, and he trusts his nose to keep him out of trouble. We were situated high off the ground in an enclosed blind, and luckily, he never smelled us. He finally stopped in an opening between two oaks, the Creedmoor barked, and the boar would no longer disrupt this excellent hunting spot. The area quieted down, and a bit later, we looked up and a big, heavy-bodied mature buck had just appeared. Funny how deer just seem to ‘be there’. I wondered how he had so quietly made it to the opening in front of our blind, but there he was! The shot was close, about 45 yards, and my venison for the fall was on the ground. Back at the skinning rack, he weighed a bit over 200 pounds, the second heaviest whitetail I’ve taken. This mountain country is blessed with an abundance of quality deer food with plenty of nutritious woody plants and forbs, as well has a soft mass in the form of crab apples, persimmon, and berries from the American Beautyberry. Many of the oak trees were heavily laden with acorns this fall, which will supply energy for the rut. We were hunting the very early stage of the rut and witnessed a couple of young bucks chasing a doe. Dusty tells us the rut should be in high gear here by the first week of November.
We made a pact to regroup at the Choctaw Lodge later this winter. Dusty, Larry, and Nacolh have a date this winter with a fat wild hog, a smoker, a big cast iron skillet, and some fun hunting, cooking, and celebrating the outdoor life style. I can’t wait! For more info on the Choctaw Hunting Lodge, visit www.choctawhuntinglodge.com
