Hadley Twp. ? Jesse McClusky can’t help wishing he could see the big buck again next year.
‘He would have been a dandy buck,? wrote McClusky, 27, in a computer journal he keeps of his hunts.
The Hadley Township resident’s hunting technique is unique. He hunts, in all seasons, with a regular compound bow, pulling 70 pounds.
And draws back the string with his teeth.
‘I bite way back with my molars,? he said. ‘God gave me a good set of choppers.?
‘I had been huntin? this deer for a week or so ? I have not gotten a really good look at him yet but I know he’s runnin? the creek edge…there are too many rubbed trees on the creek edge for a buck not to be working the edge.?
McClusky’s reason for changing techniques was simple. He just wanted to just be one of the guys again.
Three years after his first big buck, McClusky was in a car accident, breaking his leg.
His right arm was also paralyzed. It’s been nearly nine years since he’s been able to use it, he said.
Raised in a home ‘full of deer horns and feathers?, McClusky, an only child, remembers lots of hunts with his dad.
And his mom.
His mother especially likes turkey hunting, McClusky says, then laughs.
‘I think she likes to go out and watch squirrels play.?
McClusky laughs a lot.
With his personable demeanor and take-it-all-in-stride attitude, people are drawn to him.
After his accident, a friend carried him to the woods. McClusky wasn’t about to give up hunting.
‘Putting a tag on a whitetail is a special feeling down in the soul?
‘I just hoped that the buck would make a special appearance tonight. I did have a perfect wind.?
In high school, McClusky played hockey on the Lapeer West team.
That changed after his accident, when he began facing new challenges daily.
He describes a constant feeling of numbness in his right arm ‘like when you sleep on it wrong? and burning in his right hand, although he can’t twitch a finger.
While recovering in the hospital, McClusky used his time learning different ways to do nearly everything he’d learned his first 18 years. Therapists gave him a shoe to practice on.
No more being right-handed.
No more using two hands.
No more using both arms.
For anything.
‘I hear the sounds of church bells ring in the distance and that tells me that it’s prime time ? 5 o’clock. No deer yet though. But I’m playing the waiting game here??
After his accident, McClusky got a permit to use a trigger-operated bow.
‘I started using a crossbow for a little while,? he said. ‘I really didn’t like it. It wasn’t much of a challenge.?
McClusky wanted to hunt like his friends, to ‘blend into society?.
‘I felt more comfortable shooting a regular bow with my friends,? he said.
‘I’m up for the challenge.?
After using the crossbow for a season, McClusky first watched a hunter pull back a bowstring with his teeth at Imlay City’s Woods-N-Water Weekend.
He left the demonstration with a nylon strap for his bow, and a new zeal for hunting.
‘If you just take the time to observe you can learn a lot from just watching the deer movements and sounds they make. They make more sounds than just breaking twigs under their feet.?
McClusky hasn’t quit on life.
He’s baled hay, and currently works on sprinkler systems.
Fishing is a little more difficult now. To bait the hook, he usually gets his knees dirty, he says. With his bow-hunting technique, though, his aim is more accurate than ever.
‘I can almost feel him in the woods tonight ? that is a feeling that is very hard to explain. But you know it when you feel it.?
A day doesn’t go by without someone noticing how he overcomes a challenge. He regularly hears, ‘How do you do that??
McClusky doesn’t mind. The good Lord has given him patience, he says.
Drawing the bowstring with his teeth, his ‘anchor point? is directly adjacent to his line of vision.
‘As the woods start to quiet down it’s almost like it’s on a timer? first the birds come and go, then the squirrels hang around, then as you realize that all the buggers are finally in their nest, it’s like clockwork…
‘Cue the deer, I hear a twig snap, my eyes light up and I slowly glare to the right. That was no squirrel, no way. As I look – I see him.?
On Aug. 28, McClusky married his wife, Jenny. He wants to share his love of hunting with her.
‘He stands there totally unaware of me sitting only 20 yards next to him, I just don’t have a shot.
‘It’s amazing how he appeared out of the thin air, but I guess the rain-soaked leaves that covered the ground made hearing him almost impossible. So I quickly reach for my bow, I know this is why I’m here.?
Trees are difficult to climb now for McClusky, who hunts at ground-level from a blind he’s set up among old logs left from maple syrup production.
‘I gave a few grunts and he turned on a dime, now he’s coming right for me…I’m on the ground and it doesn’t take long for a deer to gain 20 yards. He looked so big that close…?
Last year, McClusky and his buddies piled in vans and a pickup, beginning their new tradition of hunting from a Northern Michigan cabin.
‘As he is walking straight for me he turned to sidestep the edge of the creek that I’m sitting on, and as he does that he turns broadside, and in all one motion I bite down and pull my 70-pound Fred Bear bow back…?
At 15, McClusky appeared on television in the Great Lakes Outdoors Big Buck Contest, with a buck he’d taken with his bow and arrow exactly 12 years’down to the day and hour’before this year’s memorable hunt.
‘He turned and looked right at me. As I glared down my arrow shaft and I let my pin find the crease of his shoulder, I let my arrow fly. He immediately dropped right down on his chest.?
McClusky’s ‘anniversary buck’is an eight-pointer, slightly smaller than his first nine-point buck weighing in at around 170 pounds.
Despite having already snagged a bear and turkeys with his bow, he hopes this year’s prize inspires others to not give up.
‘With my arm being paralyzed…I have overcome a lot of hurdles in my life but I think this was the hardest. I got a six-pointer last year…I think that was just a confidence builder for me. I knew I could do it now.?
McClusky has hope that his nerves will regenerate, as he’s had feeling lately in his upper arm.
‘Maybe in the next five years I’ll see something. Hopefully the Lord will shine on me that day,? he said.
Until then, McClusky’s not complaining. His technique has proved dead-accurate, and he’s closer to his friends than ever. Friends are ‘just bugged? at his success, he says jokingly.
‘To be sitting here hunting 12 years later’how awesome is all I can say.?