Allright guys,

Bad news. I'm disgusted right now.

I put in the time this year - practicing, scouting, putting up stands, game cams, food plots, and about
20 sits. As you know it's wearing on my very pregnant wife, so this week was sort of a get er done
weekend. I hunted Friday evening and had 3 big does work their way from 75 yards to 40 yards, but by
the time they got to 40 yards (took about 15 minutes) it was too dark to shoot. But it was a cool
experience. I got sick as a dog Friday night, but went out Saturday morning (because mornings have
been good). I literally almost passed out on my stand for a while (up and down thing like the flu),
Just when I'm about to get off (9:30) along comes a nice 6 point (big for our area - good symmetry,
spread, brow tines), I manage to turn around, get set up and draw undetected with him followed
by a forkhorn. At 25 yards he was broadside but it was a little too thick to shoot, then he started
walking right towards me, as he gets to about 10 yards he starts getting nervous (cross-wind) and
even looks right at me through my peep (intense). Finally, he quarters towards me and after
about a minute of being drawn, I feel I have a pretty good shot into the lungs. Well, I don't know
how with all the practice I could forget that at 10 yards (I thought it was about 15 in my head) from
an elevated position, the shot would be about 2-3" high (I was on damn rifle instinct).[:@] So on a shot
that looking back I should not have taken (and will not take again) I hit him about 3" higher than I
wanted to about 5-6" below the spine, but behind the shoulder angling into the lungs. [:@] As he ran the
arrow was in at least half way. I could tell from the angle that I got at least 1 lung. So I am pretty
pumped (but a little worried cause of the lack of exit wound) as I hear lots of loud crashing. After waiting
about 20 minutes I find a really good blood trail and even saw a piece of lung. I back out and
go pick up my dad. We ate breakfast and came back a little over 2 hours from the shot. Following
the trail is like a walk in the park for about 250 yards - blood everywhere (found foam and another
piece of lung) and I and my dad were convinced based on a lot of tracking we would get him.
Well, it started getting more sparse, then I found a lot of blood where he had obviously stood for a while,
then nothing. We searched extensively (sweep searches) for hours (all day basically) and couldn't find
anything. We have 6 foot tall palmettos everywhere so you can't see sometimes more than a
couple feet, which really sucks. I tried to find someone with a tracking dog, but no luck.

I also think (other than my poor shot selection and execution) that I could have been done
in by a couple things on the tracking. One, picking up the trail to early. Second, where we
found that large bit of blood at the end of the trail he was probably standing and expiring. I didn't
think about the fact that he headed in the direction of my dad's stand. When I went to pick my dad
up I looped around, but didn't realize that when I picked him up on the Mule talking I was probably
about 200 yards or so from where he was standing. Since this was about 20-25 minutes after
the shot, he probably heard the Mule and talking and bolted one last time (sans blood).
I'm convinced that deer is dead right now. I'm sick about it.

In all of my hunting I have not had such a high followed by such a low. I am very disappointed in
myself. I know it's hunting and supposed to be enjoyable, but it isn't right now. I'm still determined,
but it's now a challenge and one that bothers me. This may have been my only chance with the
bow (not rifle) this year on a buck and I blew it. Now I am responsible for two shot which resulted
in all day searches for wounded deer. [:@][:@][:@][:@] I feel bad for the deer. I feel like a hack flinging
arrows. I honestly miss my trusty rifle.

In a wierd way all of this has put some things in perspective for me, but it sure hasn't been fun.

Sorry for the rambling post. I've got to lay off for a while. Good luck to you guys and gal.