I finally took up bow hunting in my early twenties and now I am at the ripe young age of 43. I have many great buck harvests with either shotgun or riffle, but up until yesterday had only harvested one buck, a basket 8, my second year of bow hunting. During most of these years, we’ve been able to shoot more deer than we could eat, so I made the decision to only try and shoot a mature buck. It was a decision that I made sure I stuck with, and if you’re any good at math, you can see that I ate a lot of tag soup over the years. The bonus tags were almost always at my disposal and doe’s fell just about every year to my stick and string, so we always had venison to eat. But as you know, with trying to hunt mature animals, I was usually at the wrong place at the wrong time or in the wrong position to get a shot off, or not comfortable with the conditions given to me. Apparently, I may have bitten off more than I can chew….
Yesterday was a fun day for me in the woods. I had plenty of deer to look at on my morning hunt and actually had a fun experience with a 2-1/2 year old 8 pointer that decided to bed down 45 yards behind my tree stand. He made this his bedroom for 3-1/2 to 4 hours. This was very enjoyable to watch and learn how this youngster rested after what must have been one heck of a party the night before. I never had a deer bed down so close and do so many different power naps within eye sight. He curled up just like a dog on a pillow numerous times. Not until he laid his head down and dozed off for the 4th or 5th time was I able to quietly climb down and sneak out of there. It was already 12:30 – 1:00 and the bathroom and the fridge were calling my name. We watched a little football and ate some lunch back at the bunk house. I was actually contemplating forgoing the afternoon hunt and coming home when we saw the neighboring farmer head into the standing corn with the combine. We quickly got dressed again and back in the woods at 3:15.
It was pretty quiet as far as deer movement for the first 2 hours, with all the noise of the combine and his gravity wagons following behind, this really didn’t surprise me, man are they loud. Then, out of no where, just what always seems to happen, I hear some leaves moving and I look behind me. SOB, how did he get that close without me hearing or seeing him, I tell you they are the greatest magicians in the woods. There, 15 yards behind my stand, is a nice 8 pointer…. I wanted to try and make him my 2015 deer and my heart was racing instantly. I see him move to my right and he gets behind a clump of trees, I go to grab my bow, but that is all I can do. He saw movement and I think he has me pinned down. So, with my bow in my left hand, and just barely off of the hanger, I can’t move a muscle. I’m picturing him doing the bob and weave and walking closer to my stand trying to figure out what he saw. My backs to him and I have no idea how he’s acting or how he’s posturing. I am positive that he is going to bolt any second now. I’m sure this all only took a 60 – 90 seconds to unfold, but it felt like forever. My arm was shaking, and I am trying not to get busted as he ended up right underneath me. Finally, he moved off to my right again and was facing away from me. I was able to get turned around and draw back. I think he noticed me again, but it was too late, now 15 yards away and turned perfectly broadside, he tries to look at me, but my arrow was already flying his direction.
I watched him run off with my arrow sticking out of his side, no pass though, my mind started racing right away. Did I put a good shot on him, am I going to have a good blood trail, holy crap my legs are shaking…., I need to sit down and collect myself and just like that, he went down. Man oh Man I love that feeling. I did indeed need to collect myself and sat and glassed the area where I watched him fall to make sure he didn’t get up again. I could see the distinct brown fur of my deer piled up against a tree and decided to get down after 20 minutes or so, I knew he was done. I found my broken off arrow shaft and followed the highway of blood and torn up ground. Nothing better than actually walking up on any animal that you were successfully able to harvest, let alone one so many years in the making.
He will not make book and he will not go to the taxidermist. His horns will proudly adorn my wall and his meat will fill the freezer yet again and I know it will taste good. I am very thankful that I love this sport of hunting enough to not let all the years of not harvesting a buck end my hunting life. It has finally come to an end and I am officially off the schneid. He is a reminder of why I always sit, and always hope that today is the day. It’s for that one perfect chance that many of you have had. I truly hope that all of us will hopefully have that feeling again and again, just that one chance to be successful.
Thanks for reading. Sorry the actual pic of me holding him didn’t turn out great.
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