We did the same. Got up there Friday and uncle Joe already had about a 5 drink head start on us. "Take the 4 wheeler and put out some apples over there by the clearing," he tells me. Not an hour later there's a 8 pointer standing there, tail down. Evidently Uncle Joe had gotten him into a habit. So he grabs the .338 and sits himself on the picnic table outside the garage. My brother who lived in Seattle for the past 10 years talked him out of it, luckily. "Save some for us deer virgins." So okay he puts it down. Joe paid us back Sunday morning though. We are just about to head in for the day, pack up and make the 4 hour car ride south to the cities when bang. 50 pound spike buck, great. Oh, Uncle Joe also happens to be allergic to deer so guess who had to dress it, skin it, and butcher it. That venison meat up in St Louis county tastes like dogsht anyway. I'm done with deer hunting.