Adkison doesn’t remember exactly when, but in the 2005-06 season, they saw the deer again at a distance, crossing from one patch of woods to another wooded area. It was only a fleeting glance, but at least he knew the buck was still around. Someone also reported seeing a huge buck crossing a county road near his home.

Adkison knew enough about deer and big bucks that he was certain this deer’s core area included their farm. The younger Adkison studied the terrain, trying to figure out which areas the buck was using so that he could get his father in the right spot.

Try as he might, it simply wasn’t to be. His father passed away in the spring of 2006, never getting a chance at the buck.

As for anyone who loses a best hunting companion -- and in this case, his lifelong mentor -- the 2006-07 season was different for Phillip Adkison. He no longer had his best friend along on the hunts. But some of the pain was assuaged by a change in his hunting luck.

As the season unfolded, Adkison hunted the farm often, but never saw the big buck or any other deer that was big enough to shoot. He and his late father hadn’t followed any hard and fast rules about letting the young bucks walk, but in a general sense, the family members practiced quality deer management.

Jan. 19, 2007, was like most other winter days during hunting season -- with one exception. Adkison had promised his brother-in-law Bill Mosley and several other friends that he would attend a wild-game supper at a nearby country church. He planned to hunt until sundown, and then make it to the dinner, even though he’d be pressed to get there on time.

Around 3:30 p.m., he drove to the back of one of his fields, briskly walked the 300 to 400 yards to his stand. On the left of this site was Alligator Creek, with tall trees and tangled shrubs along the stream bottom. Directly out in front was a shooting lane that he estimated was 100 yards long. On his right was a stand of planted pines.

After he settled into his stand, it didn’t take long for things to get interesting. Around 4 p.m., two does and a small yearling buck moved out of the creek bottom and began feeding in his shooting lane. That in itself was not unusual. But the does and yearling kept looking toward the stream.

“They were really antsy,” Adkison recalled.

Finally, the deer had enough. The does stood alert, blew and took off toward the pines. Before they ran off, Adkison was almost certain he could hear a deer hooking and rubbing trees somewhere on Alligator Creek.

Then again, he might have just been imagining things.

After the does left, the hunter decided to pull out a favorite deer grunt call and give it a try.

Again, Adkison wasn’t sure if he was hearing things. But if the sounds were real, he was certain they were made by a deer using his antlers to rake small trees and pawing the ground.

Several minutes passed. Then he saw movement -- and a deer with a high, amazing rack. The buck walked out into his shooting lane, stopped and turned broadside at 60 yards.

“I never get nervous when I see deer,” he recalled. “But man, I got nervous!”

Taking a deep breath, he put the crosshairs of his Leupold scope on the deer, then squeezed the trigger.

His .300 Browning Short Magnum did what was supposed to do, and the phantom buck they previously had seen only in the distance was his.

Later, he would find out his buck weighed 205 pounds, which is indicative of an older, mature buck, especially by Florida standards.

After loading his deer and getting a few photos at home, Adkison knew he had to show the buck to his brother-in-law.