This is a story from Dec 2014.
I got out of bed late, about 630. Thought about staying in my warm bed. “Nah, we did that yesterday”. Rushed around putting my clothes on and making coffee. Got my coffee and .30-.30 loaded up and shagged it to the woods about 1/4 mile from my house. Had to dodge around the cows that were in a hurry to try and get past me to “the back” where we hunt. This is a good sign, according to Papa. I got past the cows, and managed to get the gate shut behind me before they could muscle through. I took off for my parking spot on the other side of a hill from where I hunt, jumped out of the Land Cruiser, and threw my coat on. I walked about 20 yards and noticed that the wind was blowing from the east, in my favor. While I was watching the wind, I saw a buck 100 yards away tracing the tree line to the east, walking toward my stand. I tried to get down to take a shot, but by the time I got my rifle up, he was gone. Disappeared into the tree line. My first thought was “Might as well go back to bed!” I replied to myself “No way, get down there.” I rushed the remaining 120 yards to my stand and shot up the 12 foot ladder. I settled in the seat and situated my coffee and rifle. I was quiet for about 2 minutes when I heard a rustling in the leaves just east of me. I stole a glance over my right shoulder and saw antlers in the brush. I laughed to myself. I turned to an awkward angle in my seat to avoid a left-handed shot and watched the young buck, now 30 yards in front of me and traveling northwest, until he walked between two patches of small trees where he gave me a picture perfect broadside shot. He wasn’t stopping though. I whistled. He kept going. I broke the shot anyway and knew from his reaction that he’d been hit. He ran about 70 yards away from me, then turned around, ran 30 yards back, and fell. I checked my watch. It was 715.