Guys, i just returned from my first trip bowhunting in Iowa. The rut in the midwest is everything its cracked up to be - the hunting was absolutely incredible. Its been a long time goal of mine to take a PY buck with a bow. The third morning of my hunt i was finally presented with a golden oppurtunity. I had a massive old buck broadside at a mere 15 yards. It was perfect- couldn't have scripted it any better. He stood working a scrape completey unaware of my presence, i drew the bow back - it was almost over now as i just had to seal the deal. I picked a spot tight behind the shoulder or so i thought, I hit the release and watched in horror as the arrow sailed directly into his paunch area. Nearly 11 hours later i took up the trail holding onto what little shred of hope i could find in the situation. I made it about 100 yards into the next draw only to watch the buck get up from his bed and slowly walk off as if he wasn't even hit. I was beyond crushed. I backed out and returned the next morning and searched the entire day coming up empty handed. I spent the next three days of my trip searching for any sign of my dream buck. Finally the fourth morning of the search, nearly 3/4 of a mile away i found him. He was a heap of spoiled meat and i have never felt so low. I can't bring myself to take solace in the fact that i actually did recover the deer but that such a beautiful specimen laid to waste for days. There will be no mount job, no bragging and no joy in this for me. I still feel sick.