Then I remembered an elk hunt many years earlier when, after six hard, unsuccessful days, I felt very much the same and almost packed it in. However, I chose to remain steadfast in my decisions regarding how and where to hunt, and on the last morning, my persistence prevailed as I arrowed a 300-inch bull.

NOW, FACED WITH A SIMILAR situation, I looked back at all the work I'd put into this season and began to formulate a new plan. With the rut rapidly approaching, I had to act quickly.

To start, I speed-scouted the fringes of the property that was being logged. My only option here was to hit it hard on Sundays, since that was the only day off from active logging. I would concentrate my efforts on downed oak treetops that still held acorns. Does were flocking to them, and with the pre-rut at hand, bucks would not be far behind.

My other hunting property was hit or miss. The land forms a good funnel, and the deer didn't seem too disrupted with the survey crews and developers. With my week of vacation just days away, I scouted for good stand trees near doe bedding areas.

When my vacation week arrived, I felt satisfied I'd done everything possible and now just needed to let things play out. The first couple of days flew by with numerous deer sightings, including several bucks. Unfor-tunately, nearly all of them were yearlings and two-year-olds. Weather had been great all week -- cool temperatures and mild winds.

Day three was no exception, and by 7:30 a.m., several does had bedded for the day within 80 yards of my stand. It didn't take long for some bucks to come snooping around. At 11:00 a.m., a two-year-old 10-pointer came within pointblank range. He was a beautiful buck, but I was not about to compromise my goal -- not after all that had transpired up to this point. With no regrets, I passed up the shot.

Days four, five, and six showed no letdown in deer activity, but I just was not seeing any big bucks. With my vacation time running out, I once again began to feel doubts about filling my tag.

Day seven, a Sunday, started differently from all the rest, as my family and I attended church in the morning. After a long week of hunting -- in six days I'd spent more than 60 hours on stand -- it felt good to sleep in until 7 a.m., and then to spend some quality time with my family.

By lunch my two kids had worn me out, and I felt content to rest the remainder of the day. But before I could get comfortable, my wife, Sandy, made an unusual statement: "How do you expect to shoot a Pope and Young buck sitting on the couch?"

Snapping out of my relaxation-induced haze, I jumped to my feet. "You're right! What was I thinking?"

Continued -- click on page link below.