Spent the last hours of the day yesterday, on a one-man deer drive. With the crusty crunch unavoidable, I circled around upwind of a suspected hangout, figuring if I bumped them, they'd circle around to head upwind. After finding four sets of tracks, I followed after them until I noticed the them showing signs of a speedier stride. Then I broke wide, and headed downwind, to see if I could intercept them. I caught up with their tracks again, but they bounded downwind into an off-limits area. I thought the deer might eventually head back into the sheltered areas of hemlocks, so I took a sit downwind for the last couple hours of light, listening to the cracking ice-coated trees, and witnessing the crashing of a tree top here and there. As dusk neared, there was no movement to be detected. I headed further downwind, along a ridge, to make my way out of the woods. About 200 yards south from where I was sitting, the deer had moved back up over the ridge. As shooting light was rapidly waning, I bumped them, catching only the crashing sounds from their departure. It was odd for me to see them moving downwind so far, without circling upwind. Maybe the extreme noise of the ice crust being crumbled beneath my boots pushed them further? They won, again. I don't think I'll be getting out again, but I enjoyed the part about muzzleloader season that I like best, and had been missing up until this small bit of snowfall.