Chad Cumber

Hello,

I would love to share my story with our fellow hunters here in the Carolinas.

The deer with me in camo was taken on Nov 2nd the deer with me in black was taken on Thanksgiving 2024.

For 11 long years, Chad Cumber carried the weight of doubt, frustration, and guilt. Growing up hunting in the backwoods of Canetuck, North Carolina, hunting was in his blood. His dad and uncles had passed down stories of triumphs and lessons from their time in the woods. But for over a decade, Chad’s own story seemed destined to be one of disappointment.

Three times over those years, he had aimed, fired, and struck promising bucks. Each time, he tracked the blood trails deep into the wilderness, sometimes for hundreds of yards, only for them to vanish into nothingness. One of the deer even disappeared into a swamp, leaving Chad to wrestle with a gut-wrenching reality—he had wounded these animals and couldn’t recover them. It wasn’t just the failure to bring home a buck; it was the feeling that he had failed as a hunter, a steward of the land, and a carrier of his family’s legacy.

As the years passed, doubt crept in like a cold November wind. Was he not the hunter he thought he was? Could he ever break this streak? Yet, through it all, Chad never gave up. Each year, he returned to the woods with renewed determination, fueled by the belief that his time would come.

November 2, 2024

That morning in the tall pines of Malpass Town, Chad joined his friends for a day of running deer dogs. The hunts so far had been uneventful, and the chatter among the group reflected the slow start. When it came time for the third hunt, the elder members of the group chose their spots. By chance, one of Chad’s favorite spots, the Willie Therman Field, was left open.

As Chad settled in, scanning the quiet expanse, he heard the first notes of the dogs chiming in the distance. The sound quickened his pulse, and then, across the field about 300 yards away, four deer heads popped up. One of them immediately stood out, one of them was not the same as the others-a shooter buck. Chad’s heart raced as he watched the group. Was this going to be another story of the “one that got away”?

The deer spooked, bolting away from Chad’s position. His stomach sank. But then, as if fate intervened, the buck turned sharply, angling straight toward him. The tall pines seemed to hold their breath. The buck, oblivious to Chad’s presence, stopped just 30 yards in front of him. Chad steadied his aim, whispered a silent prayer, and squeezed the trigger.

The weight of 11 years lifted all at once. Climbing down from his truck, Chad approached the animal. As he knelt beside the magnificent 9-point buck, emotion overwhelmed him. Tears streamed down his face, and for 15 minutes, he cried openly in that soybean field. It wasn’t just a deer; it was redemption, a culmination of perseverance, and a tribute to every hard lesson those woods had taught him.

Thanksgiving Day 2024

Less than a month later, Chad was back in Malpass Town, running dogs with his hunting crew. This time, he found himself at another favorite spot, the Whitman Stevens Field. The group had planned to wrap up early and head home for Thanksgiving dinner, but the dogs had other plans.

As the last few dogs struck up in the distance, Chad and his brother Brett jumped in the back of truck. Brett stood with binoculars, while Chad grasped his rifle on the dog box. The barking grew louder, the excitement building. Suddenly, Brett shouted, “It’s a buck! Shoot! What are you doing?”

Chad snapped to attention, spotting the buck just 30 yards away. Fumbling to get the deer in his scope, he fired, unsure if the shot connected. The buck ran another 200 yards, where another hunter took a shot. Doubt gnawed at Chad again.

As they stood debating, they noticed the dogs baying in the corner of the field. One of their friends ran ahead to investigate, stopping abruptly before shouting back, “Stop! Turn around and get the truck—big buck!”

Was it his shot that brought the buck down?

After examining the deer, it was determined that Chad’s shot had been the decisive one. Standing over another 9-point buck, he felt a mix of disbelief, gratitude, and reverence. In just 26 days, he had gone from a decade-long drought to taking two beautiful bucks.

A Legacy Restored

Chad’s streak of bad luck was over, but more importantly, so were his doubts. As he reflected on the journey, he realized it wasn’t just about the deer he had taken—it was about the persistence, the camaraderie, and the deep respect for the wild that had kept him coming back year after year.

The support from his hunting buddies and the broader community humbled him. The woods had tested him, taught him, and finally rewarded him. And as he prepared for future seasons Chad knew this wasn’t the end of his story. It was the beginning of a new chapter—one where he no longer doubted himself but embraced the lessons of the past with pride.

Thank you for taking the time to read this.