I first saw this 10-point brute on my trail camera — always in the middle of the night. After seeing the brow tines, which turned out to be 8 and 7 inches with front-facing Y’s, I knew this was my target, no matter what.
After discovering where he was living during the daytime, nine hunts later, I started second-guessing myself. But after placing a camera near this hiding place and reviewing the pictures, I realized I had it right. He was always coming out about 20 minutes after dark.

Three weeks earlier, I had twisted my knee, and the pain kept getting worse. (Later I found out I had a fracture.) Being my favorite deer stand is nice and even has a heater, I convinced myself that because of this severe pain, I decided to stay overnight for a two-day hunt. It would be too painful to be walking down and back again from the house.
My wife and especially my daughter were not happy with this decision. My son knew I would be OK. So extra early on Oct. 24, with the full moon coinciding with the recently started rut, I headed out for the 400-yard walk to my deer stand.
I brought a backpack stuffed full with one Thermos of hot coffee and a second Thermos of hotter coffee for the next day, two days of food and some normal supplies. All of this probably weighed 35 pounds. Then in my shoulder side pack, I had another 15 pounds of necessities.
With a cane in one hand, my crossbow over my shoulder with the other hand and 50 pounds of necessities in two packs, off I went. It didn’t take long for me to wonder if this hunt was a good idea.
Thinking about those brow tines just made me truck harder, but the pain in my knee said, “slower.” Finally, after several stops to rest my knee, I made it. While still dark, everything was unpacked and put in its place.
It was a long day, starting at 7:00 a.m. and scheduled to end at 6:40 p.m. Throughout the day, I was getting a little disappointed. I thought there should be more action, but then I remembered seeing a coyote in my trail camera pictures.
The sun started going down as 6 o’clock rolled around. Does were starting to come out. One had two young bucks close behind. I was watching two areas, one on each side of me.
Then it happened. At 6:20 p.m., as I turned my head to the opposite side, my target buck came trotting past me at 25 yards, causing me to look right into the sunset. I needed my binoculars to be 100% sure it was him. Yes, but he was at 60 yards and heading out farther toward the does in heat and younger bucks.
Suddenly, a hot doe turned and ran slightly back toward me, and my buck was right behind. My crossbow was up and ready. Not knowing where this doe was headed, I stopped this trophy with a “baww” at 45 yards. But there was a problem. Yes, he stopped, but this brute was standing with a “quartering toward me” shot. I’ll take this anytime with a rifle, BUT A CROSSBOW?!?! Is there a harder archery shot? Not in my book.
Whoosh … THUD … Off he went, back into the pines where he called home. OK, I had a good feeling, knowing where I was aiming and hearing that THUD.
I called my son’s house and recapped the past 20 minutes. It would take him an hour and a half to drive to my place, get out my small tractor with the wagon on the back, and head down the path in my direction. I told him to call me before he heads down, just in case.
About 50 minutes had gone by, and everything was cleaned up and put away. Yes, at this point I was confident. I headed carefully, quietly, down out of the deer stand to the harvested soybean field where I made the hit. It was dark, and finding the bolt or blood trail was not going to be easy. But if I made a good hit, it was not going to be that hard either.
No bolt, no blood.
So, following the shooting lane through the pines that this brute ran off on, there, after about 40 yards, I found blood and lots of it. (The next day I found the bolt about 20 yards from the hit, right where he left the field.) Another 35 yards and there he was, collapsed. It was a perfect shot. Look at those brow tines and you’ll see why I’m excited. The only other whitetail buck I could find that had brow tines with a front-facing Y on top of each was the “Famous Brow Tine Buck of 1870.”

I’m 66 years old, and this was my 45th Pennsylvania buck. In the past 10 years, I didn’t pull the trigger several times because it just wasn’t a big enough 8, or whatever. This 10-pointer weighed in at 225 pounds field dressed.