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Little Rhody – Big Buck!
New RI State Record Archery Typical
By Jeff Brown, and hunter Steve Ponte

Little Rhody gets little respect. Whether it’s a joke about the states diminutive size, or a dig about the tendency for its politicians to be corrupt, the “Rodney Dangerfield” of US States tends to be the butt of abuse on many levels. And in the hunting community, the fact that no B&C buck has ever been officially recorded just adds to the long list of affronts. Let’s face it, this state is the size of some counties in New York, and the total deer harvest for all seasons is less than most Northeastern states register on opening day of their gun season alone. But if you are a frequent reader of this magazine, you know that Rhode Island does produce many big bodied, big racked bucks each season. And when it comes to muzzleloader trophies, this state regularly “kicks butt” across New England in terms of the total number of muzzleloader bucks that make the NBBC records. So it stands to reason that if this state was going to produce a hunter-harvested B&C buck, it would fall to a blackpowder hunter, right? And it also stands to reason that the buck would come from somewhere along the trophy-rich Connecticut state border, given that the Constitution state produces so many trophy-caliber bucks each year, right? Wrong on both accounts! It turns out that this state’s first-ever typical B&C buck fell to archer in 2006 – in one of the last places you would expect a trophy buck of this caliber to come from. And yet when you read the hunter’s story, you might guess he was hunting in Illinois or Iowa!

OK, enough of the pre-story drama - Here is Steve Ponte’s story, in his own words.

The dog days of August had arrived and I had passed on another night of chasing big striped bass and decided to start glassing the fields for whitetails - my fall and winter obsession. The first night out with a little more than a half-hour of light to go I spotted a few deer meandering out of the woods into the hayfield. The first was a small buck, maybe six points. The next four deer were all keepers and they filed out by age and rack size. The next two were three and a half year olds, immature, but eight pointers. They needed another year to be something special. The next deer was a monster! Right away with the naked eye I could see he was all of ten points and close to two-hundred pounds. He was a nice four or five year old deer. I figured you might fit three basketballs in his perfect typical rack, and knew he scored at least 150 or better. The last deer was all gray, easily over two hundred pounds and probably over six years old. He had a rack that was long and wide. He showed his age, as his rack had five to a side but no height, actually wide and spindly - but he was still the King. He would score 125”, but not much higher. These sightings went on through the end of August, always the same five deer and always the same rotation when entering the field.

September came and I went out one Saturday to put up my stands for the October 1st opener. I came down the dirt road and over the crest to the backfield. All five of my deer buddies were eating along the fencerow, but this time there was a sixth buck. He was away from the group maybe twenty yards, and he was a three and a half year old solid eight pointer. It was noontime and about seventy degrees; I could not believe my eyes. I had startled them and they jumped away and blended back into the woods. I thought to myself, “Six bucks in my hunting area, three weeks to go until the season opener.”

I never saw the bucks again, until the season opener. That day I had arrived about one o’clock and parked my truck in the parking area. From here I could always see the back of the field and wood line. Right away I saw the monster buck cruise from the south corner up to the north and go into the woods. Again, I was shocked to see a buck in the middle of the afternoon. This was the first time I saw any buck alone. It seemed that they got up and stretched during the mid day hours. It also seemed that the big boy had marked his territory, as I had not seen any other bucks for the last three weeks. Fall is for deer hunting and football. I have coached high school football for the 16 of the past 21 years. There is always conflict in my heart and mind during this season. I work hard with the players each afternoon through two and a half hour practices, leaving me with just an hour or two to get in the woods before dark. October was barren for me as I saw a few does but nothing that I would draw back on.

In early November I snuck out on a Friday afternoon before our nighttime game. I maybe had an hour and a half to see what was moving in the woods. Time was precious; so I hopped into the first stand just thirty yards into the woods. A doe came by and I heard the pig like grunt off in the distance, I knew he was coming my way. He popped out of the bull briars at about thirty yards and I could see he was a big-bodied spike, full of intentions for that hot doe. I did not get a shot.

I got out only on weekends in November and continued to see that spike and a small six pointer. Each I could have taken but did not want to take one knowing those big-racked bucks must be near. Thanksgiving Day the football team played in the mud during a driving rainstorm. We lost, but we qualified for the state playoffs. This was good for the team and kids, but bad for hunting, as practice and games would take up much of a six-day week. The day after Thanksgiving I went out to hunt early in the afternoon. It was difficult hunting as all the streams in the area were roaring from the previous day’s rain. Many of my stands are just thirty yards from a stream. Before I settled in I walked a semi circle around the stand with estrous hoping to catch a big fella’s nose. Around 3:45 pm I caught movement to my left about thirty yards out. A buck was walking up the stream, nose checking the air. He was right in the stream up to his chest. There was a big three-foot wide tree between us. I quickly figured that when he got behind that tree I would stand, take my bow off the hanger and draw. I did this without the deer noticing me. He was still in the stream at thirty yards. Now I had two windows in which to shoot - one was within three yards of his next steps, and the other was maybe six yards if he continued in the same direction. Just before the first opening he stopped, climbed the stream bank and started coming right at me. But something was not right and he stopped again and started to back off, back into the stream. I was at full draw and he backed right into my first window. He hesitated for a split second, looking over his shoulder, as if to say, “Not today, baby”. Then I let the arrow fly. He was perfectly quartering away, but I heard a loud pop, and I felt a sudden sense of anxiety. A gut shot. He sprinted down the stream without a hint of being hit. I watched as he exited the stream and ran up into some cattails and by a big old swamp oak tree. Then I lost sight of him. I mentally marked the last place I saw him and settled down to rethink the last five to ten seconds. That was it, all this happened in those few moments. I got out my binoculars and searched the hit area for my arrow. After a while I saw it in the bank of the stream. Water was just rushing over it, but it was lodged in the stream bank. I waited a half hour till 4:15 pm; I only had 15 minutes of good light left. I got down and went over to the arrow. I did not have a speck of blood or residue on it. The running water had made it look brand new. Or did I miss completely? I knew that popping sound was a gut hit and I knew that the way he sprinted up the stream that he sure acted like he got hit. Yet, I was not too sure of the whole scenario. I quietly walked up the stream to where I had last seen him. I cautiously checked for blood along the banks as I went to the spot of last sighting. I climbed the bank where he went up and saw the deep footprints of a heavy bodied deer. I thought right away that this would be good as I could track him in the muddy area if there was no blood. I took three steps, following his footsteps and found three big gushes of blood on some oak leaves. I kneeled down and checked hard to make sure it was the real thing. I let out a sigh of relief and stood up. The woods exploded as he blasted away from me at ten yards. Right then and there I turned around and left the area. The decision was to let him be until tomorrow morning. I walked out of the woods apprehensive of what tomorrow would bring.

Football practice was from 8 till 11 am. So I waited till after practice to go see what I had done. I walked into the woods and went to that bloodspot. I slowly followed his deep footprints in the mud. I found more blood, lots of it where he was resting. I looked up and about ten yards away was this massive rack. I never realized what a huge buck this was. It all happened so fast; I just knew he had antlers. It was the Monster buck. The one from the summer that I would suspect would score over 150. His rack was so wide, lying there flat; his head was cocked at a weird angle. I took two pictures with my camera timer and proceeded to get him out of the woods. The shot was perfect, it entered into the last rib near the paunch and quartered up into his liver and lungs.

I got him home and after weighing and tagging him I did a quick scoring of my own. I had him scored at 163 and 5/8ths. I called my hunting buddy who was in North Dakota hunting whitetails at the time. I left him a message, telling him how big the buck was. He called me back that evening and told me to stop exaggerating. Though he had seen the buck in the summer too. He knew it might be that big. His last words to me during our phone conversation were, “What the heck am I doing out here if you are shooting 160’s back home, in Rhode Island”.

2006 was a double bonus season as the football team won the R.I. division 4 Super Bowl, and I shot the best buck of my life – the new RI state record archery buck!

When archer Steve Ponte entered the woods on November 24th, 2006 he had no idea he was about to make history. The odds were certainly against him. He was hunting Newport County, a coastal region that has produced only 20 NBBC book entries, just 5% of the state’s total. Most people in this part of Rhody hunt big striped bass from their boats with a rod and reel, not big racked bucks from a tree-stand with bow and arrow. But on this day, Ponte arrowed a giant 10-Point that scored an amazing 172 7/8” gross and 166 6/8” net B&C. This buck makes the B&C typical awards level of 160” net, making the first buck to be entered to the B&C records from this state. The buck was officially scored by B&C and NBBC measurers Julio Medeiros and Ernie LaFazia.

The frame of this buck is quite impressive. The main beams are 26” and 25 7/8” respectively, and the longest tines on each side extend 11 6/8” and 10 4/8”. The inside spread is just under 20”, and the bases are both just under 5”, giving this buck everything it needs to score well. It is also a very symmetrical rack, with just 4 2/8” in side to side deductions, and a single 1 7/8” abnormal point.

Just how good is this archery buck? It beats the old Rhody archery record by over 7” – that was Stephen Burchette’s 165 2/8” 10-Point from Providence County in 1996. It also grosses higher than Steve Tyrrell’s 169 2/8” non-typical record from 1998. In terms of all RI bucks, this is the highest gross scoring typical taken by a hunter, just ahead of James Manni’s 172 1/8” muzzleloader record from 2002. It finishes just behind the 173 4/8” Washington county typical 10-Point found dead by Donald St. Germain in 2001. And it is one of only six bucks all-time to gross over 170” in this state, whether typical or non-typical. In terms of all archery typicals from New England, Ponte’s buck would rank #8 in that category for the entire region.

It should be noted that there are at least 5 other bucks in the NBBC records that net over 160” typical from this state. But none have been entered to B&C as of yet. So Ponte was the first typical to garner that honor.

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