Big PA Doe (Long Story and Pics)
10-28-2006, 09:23 PM
#1
Nontypical Buck
Thread Starter
Join Date: Jul 2004
Location: Fairbanks, AK
Posts: 3,132
Big PA Doe (Long Story and Pics)
Well, I finally got around to writing the story for my doe I shot on 10.21.06....LOL
******
I think everyone knows what I’m talking about when I say “I just had that feeling.” When I settled into my stand 4:00pm last Saturday night, that was the feeling running through my veins, it was going to be a good night. Earlier that day, my Grandpa, Father, and I had set up a new stand location for me to use with my climber. It was placed in a patch of aspens, with apple trees in front, soybeans to the left and behind with corn beyond that, and a pond and pine thicket to the right. Around and through each of those features ran trails and paths that encircled my position and connected together. A major intersection would be an understatement. Whether the deer would be crossing from woods to the field, heading across the road, or if they chose to eat apples, corn, or soybeans, there was a very good chance they would be passing by my spot.
Even with that great feeling pulsing through my veins as I sat in the stand, there was one feeling that was even stronger; the urge to sleep. The night before my Dad had taken a small doe with his muzzleloader, mere yards from where I was sitting now, and it had been a long night gutting, skinning, and quartering her up. I finally got the bed around 1:30am last night, only to wake up at 5:30am this morning to hunt today. So with that combination of running on little sleep and sitting in my ridiculously comfortable climber, the temptation to doze off was extremely prevalent.
Around 4:30pm I heard a great commotion coming from across the street. A farmer was picking corn. GREAT!! Now hopefully, the deer who were planning to eat in the hayfield across the street would want to avoid that area and come over to our side of the road. This continued on until 5:30, I think. Sometime after then I must have dozed off, waking up about 20 minutes later. Sure enough, when I woke up, there was a doe 10 yards in front of me, munching on fallen apples. I’m not sure who was more surprised, me seeing the deer, or the doe, who spotted my movement as I tried to ever so slowly prepare for the shot. Luckily she was only slightly alarmed, and worked her way around me to the right, entering the pines. I don’t know where she went, but five minutes later, another lone doe appeared back out of the pines, and continued on that same circle, working her way into the soybeans behind me.
From my position, 17 feet up the aspen, there was a mowed path 20 yards out just before the soybeans that we had trimmed a shooting lane to, but not past. As the doe fed in the beans, she moved along at a quartering away angle, which was taking her beyond the range of the path. Before she reached the path however, she stepped into a small gap between branches and offered me a 30 yard quartering away shot. I decided that this was probably going to be the best shot I was going to get, so I drew and settled my red, 30 yard pin on her calm body. My heart was thumping, but my hand was steady, keeping the pin midway up her side where the trajectory would take out both lungs and possibly the heart.
The anticipation and excitement of the moment turned to sheer horror when I heard the bone-splitting crack of my orange fletched arrow striking the doe squarely in the meat of the rear leg. To this day, to only explanation I can think of for how that arrow hit her there is if she jumped forward at the shot, but I don’t ever remember seeing her move. At impact, she took a short 60 yard semi-circle dash in the soybeans and then stopped. She proceeded to stand there, 70 yards away, for the next four minutes; not moving at all. Immediately after the shot I could smell the undeniable stench of a gut hit. I knew that I had hit her in the guts; the odor only solidified my suspicions.
I felt as though I were going to throw up, and I think the only thing that actually prevented me from doing so was the fact that I knew I could not take my eyes off her if there was any chance of me recovering her. I watched her with unblinking eyes, studying every detail that I could. Where she was when I shot; where she ran; where she was standing; what her posture was; where the arrow hit; the angle of it; the penetration; the way she eventually walked; how she walked; what she did on each step; how she took each breath; everything.
When the doe finally left my sight, heading into the pines, I slowly got out of my stand, mentally marked the spots where I shot her, where she stood, and the last place I saw her. I also made note of the fact that there was no blood to be seen. I had had the bad feeling my shot wasn’t going to produce a trail to follow, and when that thought became reality, I knew it was going to be a long night. When I reached the cabin, my Dad was waiting there. I told him everything, but he already knew some of it. With him hunting only 200 yards away, he heard the shot, the impact, and the wind carried the odor of a paunch hit to his nose. It was 7:15, just over an hour since the shot, by time I finished my story, but we knew she still needed more time. I spent to next hour attempting to keep my mind busy by working on homework in the cabin, but that only lasted so long.
Thankfully my Dad caught onto the fact that I was just about to lose it, so he said we should head into town, get something hot to eat, pick up a few batteries, and then come back. That next 90 minutes passed much easier and when we returned to camp, we decided on a simple approach to looking for her. Because we had a very good idea of where she was headed, and knowing that there wasn’t going to be any blood, we decided to immediately start a grid search of that corner of our property; looking through all the pine trees and in the corn field. If we hadn’t found anything to go on by then, we would back off, and return in the morning so we would have better light and wouldn’t be blundering through the woods, doing more harm than good.
We searched very slow and quite, making sure to look in every row of corn, between every pine tree, and around every clump of weeds or downfall; leaving nothing to chance. At the edge of our property were two trails, mowed parallel, ten yards apart; those were the limits of our night search. There is one main place where the deer cross those trails, and when we went to that spot, the stench of guts was strong. There still was no blood, but at least we were confident she had gone though this area. That was the first solid[/i] proof of where she might have been that we had gotten all night. At the end of the first path, we crossed over to the second one, and began to work our way back. As we neared the crossing, there was a definite smell of paunch; she had to be close. My Dad was a little ahead with the lantern, and I was behind with the flashlight, when he turned around to look at me for one reason or another. Before he ever got face me directly, the white underside of my doe caught the light of his lantern. There she was, laying ten yards on the other side of the trail.
Dragging her out of the woods was the most enjoyable thing I got to do that night. Knowing that we did everything right and were able to recover her gives me more satisfaction than the fact that I got a deer.
She managed to make it about 120 yards before collapsing from internal blood loss. The arrow had penetrated 20 inches, through the meat of her back leg, putting a slice along her femur; it then had enough force cut through intestines, stomach, and liver, punch though the diaphragm and lodge into the fifth from last rib on the far side.
*****
She weighed #119 field dressed...my largest doe.
******
I think everyone knows what I’m talking about when I say “I just had that feeling.” When I settled into my stand 4:00pm last Saturday night, that was the feeling running through my veins, it was going to be a good night. Earlier that day, my Grandpa, Father, and I had set up a new stand location for me to use with my climber. It was placed in a patch of aspens, with apple trees in front, soybeans to the left and behind with corn beyond that, and a pond and pine thicket to the right. Around and through each of those features ran trails and paths that encircled my position and connected together. A major intersection would be an understatement. Whether the deer would be crossing from woods to the field, heading across the road, or if they chose to eat apples, corn, or soybeans, there was a very good chance they would be passing by my spot.
Even with that great feeling pulsing through my veins as I sat in the stand, there was one feeling that was even stronger; the urge to sleep. The night before my Dad had taken a small doe with his muzzleloader, mere yards from where I was sitting now, and it had been a long night gutting, skinning, and quartering her up. I finally got the bed around 1:30am last night, only to wake up at 5:30am this morning to hunt today. So with that combination of running on little sleep and sitting in my ridiculously comfortable climber, the temptation to doze off was extremely prevalent.
Around 4:30pm I heard a great commotion coming from across the street. A farmer was picking corn. GREAT!! Now hopefully, the deer who were planning to eat in the hayfield across the street would want to avoid that area and come over to our side of the road. This continued on until 5:30, I think. Sometime after then I must have dozed off, waking up about 20 minutes later. Sure enough, when I woke up, there was a doe 10 yards in front of me, munching on fallen apples. I’m not sure who was more surprised, me seeing the deer, or the doe, who spotted my movement as I tried to ever so slowly prepare for the shot. Luckily she was only slightly alarmed, and worked her way around me to the right, entering the pines. I don’t know where she went, but five minutes later, another lone doe appeared back out of the pines, and continued on that same circle, working her way into the soybeans behind me.
From my position, 17 feet up the aspen, there was a mowed path 20 yards out just before the soybeans that we had trimmed a shooting lane to, but not past. As the doe fed in the beans, she moved along at a quartering away angle, which was taking her beyond the range of the path. Before she reached the path however, she stepped into a small gap between branches and offered me a 30 yard quartering away shot. I decided that this was probably going to be the best shot I was going to get, so I drew and settled my red, 30 yard pin on her calm body. My heart was thumping, but my hand was steady, keeping the pin midway up her side where the trajectory would take out both lungs and possibly the heart.
The anticipation and excitement of the moment turned to sheer horror when I heard the bone-splitting crack of my orange fletched arrow striking the doe squarely in the meat of the rear leg. To this day, to only explanation I can think of for how that arrow hit her there is if she jumped forward at the shot, but I don’t ever remember seeing her move. At impact, she took a short 60 yard semi-circle dash in the soybeans and then stopped. She proceeded to stand there, 70 yards away, for the next four minutes; not moving at all. Immediately after the shot I could smell the undeniable stench of a gut hit. I knew that I had hit her in the guts; the odor only solidified my suspicions.
I felt as though I were going to throw up, and I think the only thing that actually prevented me from doing so was the fact that I knew I could not take my eyes off her if there was any chance of me recovering her. I watched her with unblinking eyes, studying every detail that I could. Where she was when I shot; where she ran; where she was standing; what her posture was; where the arrow hit; the angle of it; the penetration; the way she eventually walked; how she walked; what she did on each step; how she took each breath; everything.
When the doe finally left my sight, heading into the pines, I slowly got out of my stand, mentally marked the spots where I shot her, where she stood, and the last place I saw her. I also made note of the fact that there was no blood to be seen. I had had the bad feeling my shot wasn’t going to produce a trail to follow, and when that thought became reality, I knew it was going to be a long night. When I reached the cabin, my Dad was waiting there. I told him everything, but he already knew some of it. With him hunting only 200 yards away, he heard the shot, the impact, and the wind carried the odor of a paunch hit to his nose. It was 7:15, just over an hour since the shot, by time I finished my story, but we knew she still needed more time. I spent to next hour attempting to keep my mind busy by working on homework in the cabin, but that only lasted so long.
Thankfully my Dad caught onto the fact that I was just about to lose it, so he said we should head into town, get something hot to eat, pick up a few batteries, and then come back. That next 90 minutes passed much easier and when we returned to camp, we decided on a simple approach to looking for her. Because we had a very good idea of where she was headed, and knowing that there wasn’t going to be any blood, we decided to immediately start a grid search of that corner of our property; looking through all the pine trees and in the corn field. If we hadn’t found anything to go on by then, we would back off, and return in the morning so we would have better light and wouldn’t be blundering through the woods, doing more harm than good.
We searched very slow and quite, making sure to look in every row of corn, between every pine tree, and around every clump of weeds or downfall; leaving nothing to chance. At the edge of our property were two trails, mowed parallel, ten yards apart; those were the limits of our night search. There is one main place where the deer cross those trails, and when we went to that spot, the stench of guts was strong. There still was no blood, but at least we were confident she had gone though this area. That was the first solid[/i] proof of where she might have been that we had gotten all night. At the end of the first path, we crossed over to the second one, and began to work our way back. As we neared the crossing, there was a definite smell of paunch; she had to be close. My Dad was a little ahead with the lantern, and I was behind with the flashlight, when he turned around to look at me for one reason or another. Before he ever got face me directly, the white underside of my doe caught the light of his lantern. There she was, laying ten yards on the other side of the trail.
Dragging her out of the woods was the most enjoyable thing I got to do that night. Knowing that we did everything right and were able to recover her gives me more satisfaction than the fact that I got a deer.
She managed to make it about 120 yards before collapsing from internal blood loss. The arrow had penetrated 20 inches, through the meat of her back leg, putting a slice along her femur; it then had enough force cut through intestines, stomach, and liver, punch though the diaphragm and lodge into the fifth from last rib on the far side.
*****
She weighed #119 field dressed...my largest doe.
10-28-2006, 09:26 PM
#3
Nontypical Buck
Thread Starter
Join Date: Jul 2004
Location: Fairbanks, AK
Posts: 3,132
RE: Big PA Doe (Long Story and Pics)
This one is a little graphic...open only if you are prepared. It is the arrow still in the doe. I am not happy with the shot, so please don't rip on me for it. It is the truth though, that is why I am showing it.
10-28-2006, 11:16 PM
#7
Join Date: Jun 2006
Location: Lincoln, Nebraska
Posts: 539
RE: Big PA Doe (Long Story and Pics)
Great job great story great doe and i hope that we all learn something from this you did everything perfect except for the shot, but beleive me those things can and will happen great post.
10-28-2006, 11:29 PM
#8
Join Date: Jan 2004
Location: El Dorado, Arkansas
Posts: 2,174
RE: Big PA Doe (Long Story and Pics)
I am more than willing to say congrats, and a job well done. You made a bad situation better, and I like the detail of the story. I hope others on this site will read it and learn from it. There have been many deer lost this season due to bad shots,poor tracking skills, or not paying enough attention to the deer and it last location. I commend you and your dad for your good judgement, and level headedness.
I am glad you found her. Enjoy !
God bless
I am glad you found her. Enjoy !
God bless
10-29-2006, 07:12 AM
#10
Fork Horn
Join Date: Nov 2005
Location: Western PA
Posts: 374
RE: Big PA Doe (Long Story and Pics)
PA Bow
I enjoed reading your story as well as your resolve and determination in recovering this deer. Reading the story allowed me to recall events of a similar hunt this time last year. I had been hunting the pre-rut and seeing a lot of deer activity. About 5:00pm a buck walks between me and a buddy hunting 80 yards apart. He is walking with his head down approaching my shooting lane. As he enters the shooting lane he speeds up as I release. I hit him, but I knew it wasn't good. I watched him walk run 20 yards and stop. He stood still a while and started to rock back and forth, I begin thinking my shot was better than i initially anticipated. Then the deer walked off. I got out of the stand and checked for blood and I had plenty. Still believing it was a bad hit, I waited overnight. We took up the trail at first light and found this buck 60 yards from the last sighting. I hit the femoral artery, skinned his scrotum, and exited the far leg. I do not recommend that approach but the blood trail was incredible. This deer will forever be fondly labeled the "leg-nut-leg" buck. Enjoy the rest of your season.
I enjoed reading your story as well as your resolve and determination in recovering this deer. Reading the story allowed me to recall events of a similar hunt this time last year. I had been hunting the pre-rut and seeing a lot of deer activity. About 5:00pm a buck walks between me and a buddy hunting 80 yards apart. He is walking with his head down approaching my shooting lane. As he enters the shooting lane he speeds up as I release. I hit him, but I knew it wasn't good. I watched him walk run 20 yards and stop. He stood still a while and started to rock back and forth, I begin thinking my shot was better than i initially anticipated. Then the deer walked off. I got out of the stand and checked for blood and I had plenty. Still believing it was a bad hit, I waited overnight. We took up the trail at first light and found this buck 60 yards from the last sighting. I hit the femoral artery, skinned his scrotum, and exited the far leg. I do not recommend that approach but the blood trail was incredible. This deer will forever be fondly labeled the "leg-nut-leg" buck. Enjoy the rest of your season.