AWESOME THREAD !!!!!!

I just bought a bow 3 weeks ago and I' m not comfortable enough (read as I know I' m not good enough yet) to hunt with it this year.

One thing I' ve learned from years of gun hunting is to carry 3 flashlights. I have two of those clip-on. ultra-bright, micro-mini gizmos (I think they' re LED or Xenon or something) that are supposed to be visible for something like 1000 yards, and a mini-maglight.

I clip one at the bloodspot, then track with the mini-mag, clipping the second micro-mini at the next blood spot. Then go back and retrieve the first one, tracking until the next blood spot. Yes, it' s time consuming, but it serves two great purposes - 1) It makes you go alittle slower and helps prevent " pushing" , and 2) You can very easily find and return to, the last spot if you lose the trail.

As far as bloodspots .....

About 6 years ago, on the last day of blackpowder, I had returned to the truck about a half hour before sundown. I had opened the tailgate, taken my hunting suit off, and was about to discharge my smokepole into an unsuspecting tree stump when I saw a doe not 40 yards away in a small orchard. A freezer full of doe meat is better than any stump.

Through the smoke I could see her running, and when she got out of sight, I went to where she was when I shot. A little bit of lighter colored hair and a minor amount of blood, not much at all. I followed her tracks in the snow for about 10 yards and found a small amount of blood in her right front hoofprint. I thought for sure I hit her in the leg.

I sat down and cooked up an MRE as the snow started falling and darkness set in. This was going to be a long night. I played the shot over and over in my head - how could I have shot so low so close ?

An hour later, I started on her trail. On my hands and knees I carefully brushed the newly fallen snow out of her tracks. A little driblet of blood in the right fron print every time - but it wasn' t very dark and red, and it certainly wasn' t pink and foamy. No splatter around that I could see, and nothing on the nearby bushes. At about 50 yards she crossed tracks with another deer. Great, she' s following a familiar trail - wounded for sure.

A short time later the tracks parted - and neither of them had blood in them. The snow was falling heavier - big, fluffy flakes. I was pretty sure that I wouldn' t be able to pick up the trail in the morning, I had no choice but to continue. A long night for sure.

I figured I would pick a set and follow it, and if I didn' t find anything, I' d come pack and follow the second set. About 30 yards later, I found where she had jumped a creek and run into a tree. Now, I don' t know about anyone here, but I' ve never seen or heard of a healthy deer running headfirst into a tree - I was confident I was on the right tracks.

I couldn' t find any more tracks. I went back to where she had jumped from on the far side of the creek and checked her direction. She was veering off to the right, back across the creek to the tree and checked off to the right side. Nothing. Check around the left side. Nothing. 5 foot, 10 foot and 15 foot circles around the tree. Nothing. What the ......(I must' ve looked pretty funny shining my flashlight up into the trees looking for her - deer don' t climb trees - do they ?) It seemed as though she had simply disappeared

Back across the creek to where she jumped from. I could clearly see the tree. Back to the tree. Aha - only one hoofprint at the base - her left front. I guess she must' ve dragged her right front in the creek or something, must be why she hit the tree. But where in the dickens did she go ?

As I looked in the creek for signs, I found her laying in the creek about 50 feet from where she had jumped from, and at least 30 feet from the tree. I figured she must have broken her neck of something when she hit the tree.

When I dressed her, I saw that the bullet had severed her heart - it was hanging by an artery, pretty much completely shredded. In reality, she was as good as dead when the bullet hit, it just took ker a while to realize it. Her heart kept pumping while she ran - her chest cavity was filled with blood, and only a dribble came out the exit wound, dripping down her right front leg - blood in the track.

I guess the blood was darker than I had thought, but when it melted in with the snow and got diluted, it didn' t look that dark at all.

The moral of the story ? DON' T GIVE UP !

(the second moral ? deer don' t climb trees or simply disappear).

I hope this helps someone learn from another hunter' s experiences so they don' t have to learn the hard way - by trial and error.

Patrick