Kurt, I wish I could tell you it ended with blood on the snow. I took that picture just before sunrise and tracked him almost a mile to where he crossed a gravel road. There was an old Ford F-250 parked right over his tracks and bootprints leading from the door of the truck to the buck's tracks, down across a meadow and into the thick puckerbrush where the tracks disappeared from my view. I know the Vermonter who drives that truck and talked with him a couple of days later . . . that old buck gave him the slip too.
Hey Suponski. . . Kurt recognizes it for what it is. (Dave thinks my avatar looks like a jellyfish or something)
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