RE: A Story
It was as if madness or obsession had come over me. Suddenly I had nothing but killing on my brain. The time was finally here. It was the opening day ofarchery season.
I hadwaited all year for this day, and I was stoked! I woke up an extra hour early to make sure that I had everything I needed. All my gear was neatly arranged in the corner by the door, and the truck was warming up. The weather report said it would be very chilly for a September day, but it wasn’t going to be too bad. I knew that it was a perfect day for hunting.
Thethirty minute drive to my land was just enough to get the sleep off of me, and when I arrived the woods were still as calm as water. I gathered my gear and got out my maps. I had three prime locations to choose from. The first was to the north.It was an old box elder that had been blown over between two ridges, to create not only a perfect obstacle to steer passing deer in my direction, but also as a blind. The second was perched in a tree, aboutsixteen feet up, overlooking a shallow spot in the creek where four trails connected.The third was a hike.
I stumbled upon this stand location while tracking a low hit doe in years before. It was an old apple orchard that had been abandoned,due totherising creeklevel in the spring. Now it served as prime land for whitetail. The trees still sprouted buds (and produced enough apples to keep the deer happy)but the areahad beena total wetland in the spring.
I had been hunting this area theentire ten years that I have owned it. There are several reasons "why". First, there is the meretwenty minute ride to the trail (then anotherthirty-forty minute walk to the stand site). Secondly, in order tosuccessfully hunt this spot, you must have a climber and be a damned good shot. You only have room foran approximatefifteen yard shot (encompassingthree shooting lanes).Compound this with the fact that you aretwenty feet in the air and you'll be close to realizing the situation at hand. In this stand site, you are atLEASTanhour from any another man. With all that information stored, it's not hard to understand how this areacould be construed as"deer heaven".
As I turned back outside the truck, the cool morning air was turning colder.For some reason, something told me to get moving. I grabbed my gear and headed onward. Along the walk, a lot of things play games with a man's head. This happens, especially, in the darkness. Every twig I heard snap; every bird I heard leaving its roost seemed to sendmy heart into over-drive.It felt as though it could be beating out of my chest. I could hear distant frogs from the creek; the hoot of howls; the yipping of coyotes in the hills. It was a very peaceful, yet scarey, journey.
I reached my honey-hole withample time to get set up right for the wind.It seemed as though the cold weather was picking up. Since the time I awoke (to this moment), the temperature had been dropping, constantly. The air was cold and the clouds looked like they were full and ready to burst. But, nothing seemed to bother me. I was wrapped in a cocoon of warmth and had no worries about the weather.
I wrestledmy climber onto the tree and made my ascent. As I reached the apex (abouteighteen feet), I cautiously pulled my pack and bow to my new position. Isettled in and got setup. I have nothing to wait for, now, exceptthe first splinter of the rising sun.
As I sat there, time seemed to move slowly and steadily. The forest was starting to awaken.The birds were chirping, and the rising sunlight filled the previously darkened woods. I couldn’t help but think about the day that layahead of me. My mind and body were filled with anxiety, and I was aching for that first glimpse of a deer.
Daylight was well upon me now. It's nowseven o’clock..... and it's cold. I figured the temperature at a merethirty-five degrees and the sky was spitting snow. I watched as the woods seemed to fill up with wildlife. The squirrels were busy finding food and chasing each other up and down trees. They sounded as if they were fighting to the deathas theycrashed through the crisp leaves. I hada group of turkeys move through, which startled me! All the commotion they maderesembledwhat I thought might be aherd of deer coming my way. Occurrences like this remind me of why I love bowhunting as much as I do. While bowhunting, I'm able to observe nature's beauty in ways many can only dream of.
Suddenly,I'msnappedout of the realm of day dreaming.I'm broughtback to reality, albeit kicking and screaming. There's a loud "cracking sound"behind me. Iam frozen,instantly.I wait for the quiet to come,but I hear it, again.This time it was louder (and moving closer). As my heart starts to beat faster.....faster...., sending my body ....I begin shaking.I slowly turn towards the noise. My eyes arefrantically trying to catch something (anything)moving. I notice a small bush (aboutthirty-five yards away) moving, ever so gently. I paused,asthough I was trying to look completely through the bush, to see the faint glimpseof an ear twitching.
I reached for my bow, not knowing what was going to come out from behind the shrub. As I watched and waited, Ikept telling myself to calm down.Relax. Then, it happened. The object I was so patiently waiting for stepped out from behind the bush.My stomach sank.Standing beforeme (andwell within bow range) was a gig doe. She was chewing, rapidly, and acting as though there was something that she was supposed to be doing. Her tail was flicking wildly, and she kept looking to her right side,towards the creek bed. Glancing quickly, I noticed that therewere three more does.Relaxinng, momentarily, Ilet up on the bow andeased myself back into a comfortable position.I noticed my heart, still racing.As I watched the four does parade around the orchards, picking up food and frolicking with each other,they seemed to not have a care in this world. They hung around for what seemed like hours, then disappeared into the thicket.
The weather was beginning to pick up,and I thought for the first time there might be a snowy opening weekend. My body was starting to feel the effects of sitting still and began stiffening with the frigid temperature.I decided to have a cup of coffee and stretch a bit.It was nine o’clock before Isaw another deer. This time, it was a respectableseven-pointer. He walked right towards me, then turned to take a quick bite before heading back to the creek bottom. Excitement is what keeps a man on the stand, I have always thought.
As the day grew longer, the deer sightings dropped off.While watching the orchard edges (where the orchards meet the swamp),something caught my eye. It was asmall sparkle.... a mere glimmer of light that had reflected off something. I grabbed my binoculars and scoped the terrain.
There he was!Before me was thebuck I was hoping to see!
At a distance of sixty-five yards, I could see the massive tines shooting splinters of bark from a sapling. His head was gigantic!His body was not unlike that of a horse! I couldn’t count the number of tines, but I knew they had to be "many". He was still a long ways out,and wasmeandering about.I knew at this point that he couldgo inany direction he wanted. I knew that I would have to pull out all the stops to even get a closer look. Throughout allmy previousyearshunting (and articles that I have read, in magazines), Itried to recall all of thetips and tricks that one thinks heshould have in his arsenal. Nothing can prepare you for this moment, though....short of living it. When you are face to face withan animal you wantSO badly, you realize thatyou're goingto have to draw onall of your past experincesto close the deal. I quietly picked upmy grunt tube and made a few soft, slow grunts. No response!I thentried afew more, this time a little longer and louder.Nothing, still. I thought, for sure, this buck was never going to get the message. So, I then pulled out the rattling antlersandclicked themtogether. The giant's head shot up! Game on.
He stretched his neck out, so far it seemed as ifit wasjust floating there. I clicked the antlers together again, and his curiosity heightened.This was nodumb buck though. He didn’t walk right to the noise or charge in for a fight. He waited and watched. He was looking for any sign of dangerbefore inquiring as to thesource of the noise.To him, this "noise"meant one thing.With the breeding season upon us, hewas about to enter into afight forthisterritory.
I had managed to keep it together theentire fifteenminutes he stood there, looking.I pickedmy grunt tube, again, this time giving three hard blasts. This buck had heard enough, and decided to move. With his head cocked down and his chest pumped up, he headed towards me. With each step in my direction he took....my heart skipped beats. He stopped atapproximatelyforty yards, and continued to gaze in my direction, never taking his eyes off level ground.
“He doesn't know Im here”, Ikept tellingmyself. I watched, intently,as he took his time coming across the clearing. I knew he would reach my shooting lane, soon.I tried to gather my composer for theimminent shot, andI slowly started to stand. My bow was in hand ashe noticed something he didn’t like.He started to take a path in the wrong direction, but I remembered I hada shooting lanethere, too.That shot would be nowhere near as "perfect" as this one, though.I slowly reached formy grunt tube again and gave a quick, two snort combination. The buck wheeled around and stopped, just inside the thicket.
I could finally see his antlers, and I was NOTdisappointed.He sported sixpoints on the left main beam, with one drop tine. I could clearly make outseven points on the right.I quickly surmisedat least a thirty inch spread.He waseasily the biggest deer I had everseen on this property, and I knew he wasn’t "just another buck". His coat was almost black, and his face was stubbed and grey. As he stood their, all I could do was freeze. I wanted nothing to interfere with me and my trophy.
Ashe stood in this thick spot, I examined my chance. If hecontinued on the same pathhewas facing,he would bewell inside twenty yards of my stand in a moment.That position should offer me a good shot. That'smychance at him. If he turns, though,the opportunity would surely pass me by. It was as if he knew I was thinking about him, becausehethen startedto move.
He picked up his heavy racked head and pranced out of the thicket. He was headed straight towards me. At 25 yards, he turned just enough to reveal his vitals, and to give me the chance to draw on him. When I pulled the bow up, and beganmy draw, the bow felt like thinair. It was an extension of my body.My drawwas clean and smooth. I didn’tsearch to findmyanchorpoint. Everything wassolid. . I found the pin through the peep sight, and placed it right behind the left shoulder. I gave a slight whistle, and the giant stopped. I placed my pin directly behind his left shoulder, and gave a faint whistle. My giant stopped. My concentration was broken by the distinct sound ofcarbon shaft in flight.Thenext sound I heard was a sharp, distinctive "smack"!
The massive animal bucked his back feet hard against his stomach, then disappeared in a cloud of snow and mud. I watched as thegiant ran into the thicket.
After nearlyfive minutes, heappeared from the other side, towards the timber. He wassimplywalking....steppingas if nothing had happened.
“How did I miss?” was the only question running through my mind. I stood there, watching him, as he headedtoward the dark timbers of his home. It was as if he was trying to break my spirits. Was hemocking the fct that I had missed?How did I miss a mere eighteen yard, broadsideshot? I knewmy bow ws dialedin and I knew the shot felt"perfect". How could this have happened?
I waited another half hour before getting down from my perch. I gathered mygear and headed to the where I had shot. I needed to find my arrow.I looked,but could find nothing. I decided to take the route the buck had taken, in case the hit was low.As soon as I got to the thickets, I found the arrow. It was covered in blood and meat. Good sign! I followed a thick blood trailuntil I got to the opening before the woods. This was the last place I had seen the giant.I found puddles of pinkish blood andI knew that he wasn’t going to befar away.Every hunter knows thisis a sure sign of a lung hit deer. I made my way about 10 yards into the forest and there he was!He had piled up on an old log.
I couldn’t handle it!I ran to him, grabbing his massive tines! he was just as I had suspected......a damned goodeleven pointer! My excitement was out of control! This was what it was all about.THIS is why my love for hunting grows more and more, through the years.
As I stood over this monster of a deer, I thought about how proud I felt to have taken such an animal.The honorof going head to head with the smartest animal in the woods....and winning....was bestowed upon me.