On the 3rd saturday of archery season, I had a really really (he gets bigger with time) nice, really odd looking 8-10 point walk right under my stand. Well, after I had him at the taxidermist, but before I actually fired the arrow, I just yanked the release and grazed him right at the base of the leg at no more than 10 yards. Yep... 10 yards. More like 5 yards.

I nicked his armpit and bruised my ego irreparably. I wound up taking a pretty nice buck, but nothing like the big one that got away.

I think I was too high up the tree, shooting downward at an extreme angle, but that's all Monday morning quarterback stuff.

The highest of highs and the lowest of lows... that's why we go, right?

Do you call the deer names after you miss 'em?? I cursed that buck like a sailor. Kinda funny, lookin' back.