I shot a buck yesterday morning at 7:10am. The day before I'd had a bunch of deer activity nearby, but they never presented me with a shot. So what did I do? Improvised...I got out the climber and set up where all the deer were moving through.

I turned off my alarm in the morning and didn't get settled into the tree until 6:30 when my goal was to be up and ready by about 5:45. Well, it didn't take long, but at 7:10 a buck walks right up the four-wheeler trail at about 15 steps...

I drew my bow when his head was behind a tree but he heard me or something, because it took him forever to make the next step and I almost had to let my bow down. Finally he took the death step. I hit him a little high and back...honestly, it wasn't a good shot. But crap happens.

Anyways, the arrow blew right through him. I got down, came back to the house and waited an hour before we went after him. (We as in dad and me.) We tracked him for an hour and a half with pindrops of blood at times but some good splats at others. It was discouraging. I was like, "holy crap, I shot my first good buck, with my bow, and we're not gonna find him."

Well, with some help from Dad (a master tracker) and Jack (my basset hound) we found the dude in some of the God-awfulest mess in the county.

I forgot to score him but I'm supposed to wait 60 days anyways...he's at the taxidermist. He was a pretty young deer, but I'll take him. It feels like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders and the sense of accomplishment is great.

Here are the pics...