In spite of the sellout crowds of sportsmen that moose hunting and bear hunting annually bring to Maine’s renowned outdoors arena, deer hunting is still the all-time box office attraction. And for good reason: Maine produces bragging-size bucks. You know, those big ol’ basters with wide-sprung antlers that have beams as big as ax handles, points as long as survey stakes, and whose splayed tracks are driven down to the dew claws.

Small wonder that when November arrives in this neck of the woods, gabfests at the hardware store, post office, and church supper often begin with, “Y’ get your deer yet?” And if the answer describes the demise of a buck, the question fired immediately is, “How big was he?” Then, depending on the weight of the response, the next words may be spoken quietly and with anxious inflection: “He didn’t happen to have a broken antler, did he?” Referring, of course, to the brute of a buck that several deerstalkers in that neck of the woods had seen but weren’t able to get in their sights. With the exception of “Winky” Strout, that is, who let one sail at him out behind the slaughterhouse late one afternoon and clipped off an antler.

Afterward, while holding forth in the local sports shop, Winky said he thought sure he’d written that buck’s obituary. “He was goin’ hellbent for election … just hittin’ the high spots. But he went down in a heap when I shot. I couldn’t believe it when I got over there and all I found was a piece of antler. Must’ve knocked him cold for a few seconds. He was cagey enough not to stand up when his lights came back on, though … I could see where he crawled off, his hoofs gougin’ the ground underneath him. Gone like a ghost.”

What is it about big bucks? Why is it that bucks described as wary, wily, clever, and wicked-smart are always categorized as big and old and gray? Chances are, you’re more than familiar with the hyperbole inspired by bucks whose size and elusiveness were legendary: “I swear he was as big as a horse, and when he jumped he shook spills from the spruces.” Likewise, perhaps you can recall your grandfather squinting through a swirl of pipe smoke while telling about a buck that could hear a shadow move and smell a man a mile away when there wasn’t a breath of breeze.

Without question, the big-buck mystique makes deer hunting all the more challenging. But the fact of the matter is, every autumn hunters are outwitted by bucks that wouldn’t qualify them for membership in the Biggest Bucks In Maine Club. And what about does? Suffice it to say, bucks are smart some of the time but does are smart all of the time. They have to be. Protecting new-born fawns against coyotes, bobcats, bears, fishers and other predators demands that does keep their survival instincts and strategies honed to a fine edge long after hunting seasons and harsh winters have passed.

However, in aiming this column at deer that paw up ground and stave up stumps at this time of year, the question begged: Why does Maine produce such big bucks? Allowing that a factual answer would require scientific knowledge, I took the trail leading to wildlife biologist Gerry Lavigne’s den at the Department of Inland Fisheries and Wildlife’s Bangor office. The state’s deer-project leader began by listing, in order of importance, four reasons why this state grows such strapping bucks: 1. Subspecies. 2. Age. 3. Nutrition. 4. Genetics.

Lavigne explained that the subspecies of white-tailed deer – technically, odocoileus virginianus borealis – inhabiting Maine and other northern states is the second-largest of the 30 recognized subspecies. In Pennsylvania, for example, where road-killed whitetails annually outnumber those tagged in a Maine hunting season, deer aren’t much bigger than an English setter. Accordingly, deer in southern states are pitifully small compared to the critters making tracks hereabouts. As an aside, white-tailed deer are so plentiful below the Mason-Dixon Line that hunters in some states can shoot a deer legally every day of the hunting season, which in some cases is three months. That makes for a lot of mincemeat pies.

Allowing that the description “old-timer” adds luster to hunting a buck that has eluded hunters for several seasons, Lavigne said the majority of Maine’s heavyweight bucks were between 4 and 6 years old. “That’s when bucks attain maximum body size and antler development,” he continued. “All bucks 4 years old are impressive, others are outstanding. Only 5 percent of our bucks live to be 10 years old.” A teen-aged buck, therefore, would be a venerable old-timer.

Of course, owing to the fact that nothing lasts forever, the pride of an old buck that has been the recognized Beau Brummell of his range eventually will be wounded when, with his antlers polished and his coat smoothed and silvered with moonlight, he struts into a field without turning a doe’s head. Without being facetious, it can be said that old men suffer similar disappointments. So it is that, in realizing they’ve seen the best of their bon-vivant days, old men bed down early to dream about nights they thought would never end, when they were young bucks.

Lavigne said it succinctly: “Rutting is a young buck’s game. They simply run themselves ragged. A buck will lose 20 to 30 percent of his body weight during the rut.” You wonder why does live longer than bucks? There you have it. In ramming around all night, fighting, breeding, and barely feeding, bucks squander their strength and stored body reserves. Consequently, the animals are malnourished and exhausted before the long and arduous battle with Ol’ Man Winter begins.

Regarding the survival of deer in winter, you’d think pregnant does would be handicapped. Lavigne affirmed, however, that unless severe winter weather extends into March, does carrying fawns usually are not unduly stressed. The gestation period of does is seven months, with the majority of fawn births occurring in mid-June.

Not only is nutrition integral to the health and growth of Maine’s heavyweight bucks, it is, in Lavigne’s words, “the prime determinant” in the development of antlers – especially with regard to yearling bucks growing their first sets of horns. When asked if antler size was an indicator of a buck’s age, Lavigne answered, “Not at all.” With that, he placed eight sets of antlers on a table. Displayed were buttons, spike horns, crotch horns, and well-developed racks with six and eight points – all taken from deer 11/2 years old.

Pointing to the smaller antlers, the biologist said, “What you’re seeing here is stunted growth resulting from poor diets. The larger antlers obviously came from deer that had better feed.” He added that young bucks with stunted antlers can grow more impressive racks if they find nutritious feed. So, if after stretching your belt at a hunters breakfast on this opening day of deer season, you cut the trail of a hefty buck with antlers resembling a rocking chair, you can bet he has been camped in woods where Mother Nature’s cupboards are well-stocked.

It would be logical to assume that the farmlands and forests of central and northern Maine provide deer with better feed than do the urbanized woods of southern Maine. But according to the head guide of DIF&W’s deer camp, there is no difference in the feed grown in northern and southern Maine – between snow seasons, he emphasized. Naturally, deer living in southern Maine aren’t subjected to the severe winters common to central and northern Maine. Therefore, winter feed available to down-state deer is more varied and of higher quality than that of north-country deer.

An interesting theory regarding northern Maine whitetails is that deep snow may be a factor in the development of deer able to survive winter. “Upcountry, we have male fawns that weigh 90 pounds at the start of winter, which is huge,” Lavigne stated. “That is, if they don’t end up in the bellies of coyotes.” Obviously, a long-legged fawn weighing nearly 100 pounds is suited to survive the north-country wrath of Ol’ Man Winter – provided the fawn can find shelter. Simply put, the clear cutting of coniferous forests has taken a serious toll on northern Maine’s important deeryards. Not to mention Down East yards.

Admittedly, I thought genetics would be the foremost factor in the production of Maine’s big, heavy-antlered bucks. Lavigne, however, said the genetics of white-tailed deer hadn’t changed significantly in 3 million years. “Hunting pressure has a lot to do with maintaining our population of big bucks,” he explained. “In Pennsylvania, 80 to 90 percent of the buck population is killed during hunting season. In Maine, the annual mortality of bucks, including legal hunting, winter kill, road kill, predation, poaching, is 40 to 45 percent. Therefore, a substantial number of our bucks live to be 4 years old or more and become impressive animals.” As for hunting pressure within the state, Lavigne ranked southern Maine as highest – which was surprising – central Maine second, northern Maine third.

All things considered, if I were asked to name the single most important factor in maintaining Maine’s storied buck population, my answer would be the doe-permit system implemented by the DIF&W in 1986. In addition to rejuvenating deer populations in most areas of the state, the protection of does ensures that enough male fawns will be born to balance the aforementioned annual mortality of bucks. Nearly half of the fawns born each spring are males.

You may recall that when the doe-permit system was initiated, it brought a volley of protests from pundits who predicted that the state’s big bucks would be shot off, leaving only smaller bucks for breeding stock. The contention was that smaller bucks would beget smaller deer. Obviously, those shots were off target. Tagging stations throughout the state regularly record bucks weighing substantially more than 200 pounds, dressed weight; which means the deer would have weighed 300 or more on the hoof. Last year, the dressed-weight death certificate of a 324-pound buck was signed in a Greenfield tagging station.

The state record, however, still belongs to Henry Hinkley’s 355-pound, 12-pointer tagged on Nov. 5, 1956. The buck’s live weight was placed at 462 pounds, nearly a quarter of a ton.

Staying on the tracks of does, Lavigne, who has more deer information stored in his mind than you’ll find on the Internet, said a female fawn that attained a weight of 70 pounds come November might become pregnant. Thus, about 25 percent of female fawns become pregnant. Further to that, 75 percent of 11/2-year-old does become pregnant, as do 98 percent of 21/2-year-olds. Prolific, wouldn’t you say?

Personally, I’ve never shot a big buck. But after helping drag out a few that were candidates for the Boone and Crockett Club, I was thankful that the deer I tagged weren’t the patriarchs of their particular woodlands. Actually, because I became addicted to hunting with dogs when I was young, I never became a consummate deer hunter. Nevertheless, regular trips to deer camps left me with memories that remain untarnished by time. Clearly, I can recall lever-action rifles, .30-30s and .32s, cradled on wall pegs, sodden wool clothing steaming dry behind a woodstove, meals that were sinful, and of course, the faces of hunters who have long since departed.

Naturally, the stories about hunters who could smell deer, spot an antler in an alder swamp, track and trail like hounds, and whose only compasses were brooks, ridges, and the lay of the land became less convincing with time. Yet, after all this time, I still secretly wonder how much truth there was to them. Not to mention the sober-faced, somber-voiced accounts of encountering big, old, gray, wily, wicked-smart bucks, the likes of which have made deer hunting the all-time box office attraction in Maine’s renowned outdoors arena.

Have a safe and successful deer season.

Tom Hennessey’s columns and artwork can be accessed on the BDN Internet page at www.bangornews.com. E-mail: thennessey@bangordailynews.net. Web site: www.tomhennessey.com.