This fall hunting season has been my absolute worst since I fell from a treestand in October of '94 and came to a most appropriate end Saturday evening on the last muzzle-loader hunt of the season. I decided to hunt the blind that had been the most productive as far as seeing deer this fall and where I sat with Miss Mattie when she took 2 does with her crossbow back in bow season.
At 5 o'clock 2 fawns entered the food plot and were soon joined by 2 big does and another fawn. I was still hoping for a nice buck having passed on the few bucks that I had seen this year. I decided if the 2 does stayed until last shooting light however I would take one of them because I still needed some meat for the freezer.
Light was fading so I leveled the cross-hairs on the biggest doe at a mere 50 yards. She was broadside and totally unaware that a human was anywhere around. With a solid rest I gently squeezed the tension out of the trigger only to hear that sickening sound of the 209 primer going off and not the load of triple seven pelleted powder. I don't know how or where but some moisture had gotten to the powder
As I reflected on what had just transpired I just shook my head and grinned realizing that this was the way my season was meant end.
Let's hope this luck does not carry over to spring turkey season.
Barry

I know how you feel man.. I pretty much called it quits after Thansgiving this year, for one I was a little frstrated and secondly I just didn't care that much. Seems the older I get the less I care about Deer hunting. I have been in Turkey mode for a while now.

I have hunted twice since Thanksgiving, and one of those times I spooked a shooter while climbing into my stand, that is twice this year that has happened to me, two shooter bucks bedded in high grass out in front of my stand. I have seen probably six shooter bucks amd missed two of them, the others presented no shot.

I have killed three does this year, which is the important thing anyway and our doe season is in up here for another two months, so I may go out again, but I really have no desire to do so at this point. Just wating on April to get here now.

Aaaarrgh!! I know that feeling far too well. The muzzleloader has not been my friend . . . sometimes it's your year, and sometimes . . . well, it's your year. Sorry.