A Story
09-13-2008, 11:37 AM
#1
Thread Starter
Join Date: Aug 2008
Location: South Western Wisconsin
Posts: 162
A Story
A lttle while back, i posted a story that i ahd written, about a day in the field. it was a fictional story, but none the less, i wrote it, and it has always been a big dream of mine to become an outdoor writer. Now I already know that there isnt a big field in this kind of writing, but still, I love to hunt and fish, so why not write about it?!
Anyway, like I was saying, I posted a story on here, and asked for some feedback. Does anyone remember the story?
If not, I am going to repost it, and hopefully, I can get some feedback, because I dont want to try and do something that I am not good at, and the best people I can think that would know a good hunting story, would be hunters themselves, so please let me know what ya REALLY think!
(I know it looks long, but it is a short story, please read it)
It was as if madness or obsession had come over me. Suddenly I had nothing but killing on my brain. The time had finally come, it was opening day of the archery season. I waited all year for this day, and I was stoked! I woke up an extra hour early, to make sure that I had everything that I needed. All my gear was neatly arranged in the corner by the door, and the truck was warming up. The weather report said that 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.
The 30 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. First one 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, about 16 feet up, overlooking a shallow spot in the creek where four trails connected, and the third was a hike.
I stumbled upon this stand location while tracking a low hit doe in the years before. It was an old apple orchard that had been abandoned because of the rising creek water 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 was a total wetland in the spring.
I have been hunting this area the 10 years that I have owned this piece, and there are reasons why. First off, there is the 20 minute ride in the truck to the trail, then another 30 to 40 minute walk to the stand site. In order to even hunt this spot, you must have a climber, and be a damn good shot. You only have room for about a 15 yard shot, and that’s with having only three shooting lanes, and 20 feet in the air. Plus, you are at least 1 hour from another man. With all that information about how tough the spot is, then you should know that this is almost deer heaven.
As I turned back outside the truck, the cool morning air was turning colder, and for some reason, something told me to get moving. I grabbed my stuff, and headed out. Along the walk, a lot of things play games with a mans head, especially in the dark. Every twig I heard snap, every bird I heard leaving its roost, sent my heart into over drive and it felt as though it could beat right out of my chest. I could hear the distant frogs from the creek and the hoot of howls, and the yipping of coyotes in the hills. It was a very peaceful, yet scarey journey.
I reached my honey-hole with plenty of time to get set up right for the wind, and it seemed as though the cold weather was picking up. Since the time I awoke until now, the temperature had been dropping. The air was cold and the clouds looked like they were full and about to burst. It didn’t bother me. I was wrapped in a cocoon of warmth, and had no worries about the weather. I wrestled the climber onto the tree and made my way. As I reached the height I was comfortable with, about 18 feet, I cautiously pulled my pack and bow up to me. I nestled in and got everything setup, now waiting for the first splinter of the rising sun.
As I sat there, time seemed to move slow and steady. The forest was starting to wake up, and the birds were chirping. As the sun rose, and light filled the dark woods, I couldn’t help but think about the day ahead of me. My mind and body were filled with anxiety, and aching for that first glimpse of a deer. I was blessed with the love to hunt and the obsession to keep doing so.
Daylight was well upon me now, about 7 o’clock, and it was cold. It could only be about 35 degrees, and it was spitting snow on and off. I watched as the woods seemed to fill up with wildlife. The squirrels were busy finding food, and chasing each other up and down the trees. They sounded as if they were fighting to the death when they would come crashing through the crisp leaves. A group of turkeys moved through and gave me a start! All the commotion they made sounded as if a herd of deer was coming my way. This is the one of the better parts of bow hunting. Being able to see all of natures beauty in its own natural movements.
Then suddenly something snapped me out of the realm of day dreaming and brought me back to reality, kicking and screaming. There was a loud crack behind me. I froze almost instantly, and waited for the quiet to come, then there it was again, only this time it was louder and moving closer. As my heart started to beat faster and faster, sending body shaking thumps through me, I slowly turned towards the noise. Eyes frantically trying to catch something moving, I noticed a small bush about 35 yards out moving ever so gently. I paused and as if I was trying to look completely through the bush, I could see the faintness of an ear twitching.
I reached for my bow, not knowing what was going to come out from behind the shrub. As I sat there watching, waiting, my I was telling myself to calm down, to relax. Just then, it happened. The object I was so patiently waiting for, stepped out from behind the bush, and my stomach sank. There standing well within bow range, was a gig doe. She was chewing rapidly, and acting as though thee was something that she was supposed to be doing. Her tail was flicking wildly, and she kept looking to her right side, back to the creek bed. I took a quick glance over and standing there was three more does that I could see. I relaxed and let up on the bow, and as I eased myself back into a comfortable position, my heart was still racing. I watched the four does parade around the orchards, picking up food and frolicking with each other, with not a care in the world. They hung around me for what seemed like hours, then they disappeared into the thickets.
The weather was picking up now, and I thought that for the first time ever, there might be a snowy opening weekend. My body was starting to feel the effects of sitting still and stiff, along with the cold, and I decided to have a cup of coffee, and stretch a bit. It got to be around 9 o’clock before I seen another deer. This time it was a respectable 7 pointer. He walked right to me, then turned to take a quick bite before heading back to the creek bottom. Excitement is what keeps a man on the stand, is what I have always thought. That is why I put so much time in fine tuning the best spot that I have to hunt.
As the day grew longer, and the deer sightings dropped off, I was watching the edges where the orchards met the swamp, and something caught my eye. It was a little sparkle, a mere glimmer of light that had reflected off of something. I grabbed my binoculars, and scoped the terrain.
There he was, the buck I was hoping to see!
About 65 yards off, I could see the massive tines shooting splinters of bark from a sapling. His head was gigantic, and his body was that of a horse. I couldn’t count the tines, but I knew they had to be big. He was along ways off, and wasn’t following the trails, he was just meandering about, so he could take any direction he wanted to go. I knew that I would have to pull out all the stops on this one to be able to even get a closer look.
Through all the years that I have hunted, all the magazines and articles that I have read, and all the tips and tricks one thinks he knows, nothing prepares you for this. The time that you are face to face with what you want, knowing that it is going to take all you have to get it. I quietly picked up the grunt tube and made a few soft, slow grunts. No response. Then I made few more, this time a little longer and louder. Still, no response. I thought for sure that this buck was never going to get the message, so I pulled out the rattles and gave just a few clicks together, and the giant shot his head up.
He stretched his neck out so far, it was as if it were just floating there. I gave a couple more clicks, and this really got his curiosity going. He wasn’t a dumb buck though, he didn’t walk right to the noise or charge in for a fight, he waited and watched. Looking for any sign of danger or the source of the noise. To him this meant one thing; a fight for new territory for the upcoming breeding season.
I managed to keep it together the whole 15 minutes he stood there, just looking.. I picked the grunt tube up again, this time giving three hard blasts. The buck had heard enough, and now decided to move. With his head cocked down, and his chest pumped up, he headed towards me. Ever so gracefully, with each step he took, my heart skipped beats. He stopped at around 40 yards, and continued to gaze in my direction, never taking his eyes off the grounds level.
“He don’t know I’m hear” I told myself. I watched as he took his time coming across the clearing, I knew he would reach my shooting lane soon, so I tried to gather my composer for the up coming shot. As I slowly started to stand, my bow in hand, he noticed something he didn’t like, and started off the other direction. I had a shooting lane over there too, but it was no where as good of shot as here. I slowly reached for the tube again and gave a quick two snort combo. The buck wheeled around, and stopped, just inside the thicket.
I could finally see his horns, and that was the prettiest thing I have ever seen! Six points on the left, with one drop tine, and another seven points on the other side, with at least a 30 inch spread. It was the biggest deer I have seen 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 that I could was freeze. I wanted nothing to interfere with me and my trophy.
While he stood in the thick spot, I examined my chance. If he was to keep on the same path in which he is facing and come to the calls, then he will be well within 20 yards of my stand, and that should also offer a good shot. That was my only chance at him, for if he were to turn around again, the opportunity would pass me by. It was as if he knew I was thinking about him, because just then, he started on the move. He picked up his heavy racked head and pranced out of the thicket, he was headed straight to me. At about 25 yards, he turned slightly, just enough to reveal his vitals, and to give me the chance to draw on him.
When I pulled the bow up, and began gracefully pulling the string, the bow felt like air, like it was a part of my body. The draw back was clean, and smooth. I didn’t even have to find my sitting point, everything was right on line with each other. 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.
The sound of a thin piece of carbon shaft, a four bladed broad head and then a sharp, distinctive smack, suddenly broke the heavy block on my concentration. The massive animal bucked his back feet hard against his stomach, and then disappeared in a cloud of snow and mud. I watched as the beast ran into the thicket, then about five minutes later, popped out the other side towards the timbers. He was just walking! Stepping about as if nothing had occurred.
“How did I miss”! was the only question running through my mind.
I stood there watching him, as he headed down to the dark timbers of his home, it was as if he was trying to break my spirits, to let me know that I had missed. He was gone within the dark woods, but I still couldn’t believe that I missed. It was only a 18 to 20 yard shot, broadside. I know that the bow is on and that the shot felt perfect, there was no way.
I waited another half hour before getting down from my perch. I gathered my equipment and headed to the where I had shot, to find my arrow. I looked, and looked again for that arrow, but could find nothing. I decided to take the route the buck did, just in case it was a low hit, and as soon as I got to the thickets, I found the arrow. It was covered in blood and meat.
I followed a thick blood trail all the way until I got to the opening before the woods, where I last seen the buck. Here, I found puddles of pinkish blood, I knew that he wasn’t far. That is a sure sign of a lung hit deer. I made my way about 10 yards into the forest and there he was, piled up on an old log.
I couldn’t handle it, and I ran to him, grabbing his massive tines. Just as I counted before, a damn good 11 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 throughout the years. As I stood over this monster, I thought about how proud I felt to have taken such an animal, and the honor behind going head to head with the smartest animal in Wisconsin.
Anyway, like I was saying, I posted a story on here, and asked for some feedback. Does anyone remember the story?
If not, I am going to repost it, and hopefully, I can get some feedback, because I dont want to try and do something that I am not good at, and the best people I can think that would know a good hunting story, would be hunters themselves, so please let me know what ya REALLY think!
(I know it looks long, but it is a short story, please read it)
It was as if madness or obsession had come over me. Suddenly I had nothing but killing on my brain. The time had finally come, it was opening day of the archery season. I waited all year for this day, and I was stoked! I woke up an extra hour early, to make sure that I had everything that I needed. All my gear was neatly arranged in the corner by the door, and the truck was warming up. The weather report said that 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.
The 30 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. First one 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, about 16 feet up, overlooking a shallow spot in the creek where four trails connected, and the third was a hike.
I stumbled upon this stand location while tracking a low hit doe in the years before. It was an old apple orchard that had been abandoned because of the rising creek water 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 was a total wetland in the spring.
I have been hunting this area the 10 years that I have owned this piece, and there are reasons why. First off, there is the 20 minute ride in the truck to the trail, then another 30 to 40 minute walk to the stand site. In order to even hunt this spot, you must have a climber, and be a damn good shot. You only have room for about a 15 yard shot, and that’s with having only three shooting lanes, and 20 feet in the air. Plus, you are at least 1 hour from another man. With all that information about how tough the spot is, then you should know that this is almost deer heaven.
As I turned back outside the truck, the cool morning air was turning colder, and for some reason, something told me to get moving. I grabbed my stuff, and headed out. Along the walk, a lot of things play games with a mans head, especially in the dark. Every twig I heard snap, every bird I heard leaving its roost, sent my heart into over drive and it felt as though it could beat right out of my chest. I could hear the distant frogs from the creek and the hoot of howls, and the yipping of coyotes in the hills. It was a very peaceful, yet scarey journey.
I reached my honey-hole with plenty of time to get set up right for the wind, and it seemed as though the cold weather was picking up. Since the time I awoke until now, the temperature had been dropping. The air was cold and the clouds looked like they were full and about to burst. It didn’t bother me. I was wrapped in a cocoon of warmth, and had no worries about the weather. I wrestled the climber onto the tree and made my way. As I reached the height I was comfortable with, about 18 feet, I cautiously pulled my pack and bow up to me. I nestled in and got everything setup, now waiting for the first splinter of the rising sun.
As I sat there, time seemed to move slow and steady. The forest was starting to wake up, and the birds were chirping. As the sun rose, and light filled the dark woods, I couldn’t help but think about the day ahead of me. My mind and body were filled with anxiety, and aching for that first glimpse of a deer. I was blessed with the love to hunt and the obsession to keep doing so.
Daylight was well upon me now, about 7 o’clock, and it was cold. It could only be about 35 degrees, and it was spitting snow on and off. I watched as the woods seemed to fill up with wildlife. The squirrels were busy finding food, and chasing each other up and down the trees. They sounded as if they were fighting to the death when they would come crashing through the crisp leaves. A group of turkeys moved through and gave me a start! All the commotion they made sounded as if a herd of deer was coming my way. This is the one of the better parts of bow hunting. Being able to see all of natures beauty in its own natural movements.
Then suddenly something snapped me out of the realm of day dreaming and brought me back to reality, kicking and screaming. There was a loud crack behind me. I froze almost instantly, and waited for the quiet to come, then there it was again, only this time it was louder and moving closer. As my heart started to beat faster and faster, sending body shaking thumps through me, I slowly turned towards the noise. Eyes frantically trying to catch something moving, I noticed a small bush about 35 yards out moving ever so gently. I paused and as if I was trying to look completely through the bush, I could see the faintness of an ear twitching.
I reached for my bow, not knowing what was going to come out from behind the shrub. As I sat there watching, waiting, my I was telling myself to calm down, to relax. Just then, it happened. The object I was so patiently waiting for, stepped out from behind the bush, and my stomach sank. There standing well within bow range, was a gig doe. She was chewing rapidly, and acting as though thee was something that she was supposed to be doing. Her tail was flicking wildly, and she kept looking to her right side, back to the creek bed. I took a quick glance over and standing there was three more does that I could see. I relaxed and let up on the bow, and as I eased myself back into a comfortable position, my heart was still racing. I watched the four does parade around the orchards, picking up food and frolicking with each other, with not a care in the world. They hung around me for what seemed like hours, then they disappeared into the thickets.
The weather was picking up now, and I thought that for the first time ever, there might be a snowy opening weekend. My body was starting to feel the effects of sitting still and stiff, along with the cold, and I decided to have a cup of coffee, and stretch a bit. It got to be around 9 o’clock before I seen another deer. This time it was a respectable 7 pointer. He walked right to me, then turned to take a quick bite before heading back to the creek bottom. Excitement is what keeps a man on the stand, is what I have always thought. That is why I put so much time in fine tuning the best spot that I have to hunt.
As the day grew longer, and the deer sightings dropped off, I was watching the edges where the orchards met the swamp, and something caught my eye. It was a little sparkle, a mere glimmer of light that had reflected off of something. I grabbed my binoculars, and scoped the terrain.
There he was, the buck I was hoping to see!
About 65 yards off, I could see the massive tines shooting splinters of bark from a sapling. His head was gigantic, and his body was that of a horse. I couldn’t count the tines, but I knew they had to be big. He was along ways off, and wasn’t following the trails, he was just meandering about, so he could take any direction he wanted to go. I knew that I would have to pull out all the stops on this one to be able to even get a closer look.
Through all the years that I have hunted, all the magazines and articles that I have read, and all the tips and tricks one thinks he knows, nothing prepares you for this. The time that you are face to face with what you want, knowing that it is going to take all you have to get it. I quietly picked up the grunt tube and made a few soft, slow grunts. No response. Then I made few more, this time a little longer and louder. Still, no response. I thought for sure that this buck was never going to get the message, so I pulled out the rattles and gave just a few clicks together, and the giant shot his head up.
He stretched his neck out so far, it was as if it were just floating there. I gave a couple more clicks, and this really got his curiosity going. He wasn’t a dumb buck though, he didn’t walk right to the noise or charge in for a fight, he waited and watched. Looking for any sign of danger or the source of the noise. To him this meant one thing; a fight for new territory for the upcoming breeding season.
I managed to keep it together the whole 15 minutes he stood there, just looking.. I picked the grunt tube up again, this time giving three hard blasts. The buck had heard enough, and now decided to move. With his head cocked down, and his chest pumped up, he headed towards me. Ever so gracefully, with each step he took, my heart skipped beats. He stopped at around 40 yards, and continued to gaze in my direction, never taking his eyes off the grounds level.
“He don’t know I’m hear” I told myself. I watched as he took his time coming across the clearing, I knew he would reach my shooting lane soon, so I tried to gather my composer for the up coming shot. As I slowly started to stand, my bow in hand, he noticed something he didn’t like, and started off the other direction. I had a shooting lane over there too, but it was no where as good of shot as here. I slowly reached for the tube again and gave a quick two snort combo. The buck wheeled around, and stopped, just inside the thicket.
I could finally see his horns, and that was the prettiest thing I have ever seen! Six points on the left, with one drop tine, and another seven points on the other side, with at least a 30 inch spread. It was the biggest deer I have seen 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 that I could was freeze. I wanted nothing to interfere with me and my trophy.
While he stood in the thick spot, I examined my chance. If he was to keep on the same path in which he is facing and come to the calls, then he will be well within 20 yards of my stand, and that should also offer a good shot. That was my only chance at him, for if he were to turn around again, the opportunity would pass me by. It was as if he knew I was thinking about him, because just then, he started on the move. He picked up his heavy racked head and pranced out of the thicket, he was headed straight to me. At about 25 yards, he turned slightly, just enough to reveal his vitals, and to give me the chance to draw on him.
When I pulled the bow up, and began gracefully pulling the string, the bow felt like air, like it was a part of my body. The draw back was clean, and smooth. I didn’t even have to find my sitting point, everything was right on line with each other. 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.
The sound of a thin piece of carbon shaft, a four bladed broad head and then a sharp, distinctive smack, suddenly broke the heavy block on my concentration. The massive animal bucked his back feet hard against his stomach, and then disappeared in a cloud of snow and mud. I watched as the beast ran into the thicket, then about five minutes later, popped out the other side towards the timbers. He was just walking! Stepping about as if nothing had occurred.
“How did I miss”! was the only question running through my mind.
I stood there watching him, as he headed down to the dark timbers of his home, it was as if he was trying to break my spirits, to let me know that I had missed. He was gone within the dark woods, but I still couldn’t believe that I missed. It was only a 18 to 20 yard shot, broadside. I know that the bow is on and that the shot felt perfect, there was no way.
I waited another half hour before getting down from my perch. I gathered my equipment and headed to the where I had shot, to find my arrow. I looked, and looked again for that arrow, but could find nothing. I decided to take the route the buck did, just in case it was a low hit, and as soon as I got to the thickets, I found the arrow. It was covered in blood and meat.
I followed a thick blood trail all the way until I got to the opening before the woods, where I last seen the buck. Here, I found puddles of pinkish blood, I knew that he wasn’t far. That is a sure sign of a lung hit deer. I made my way about 10 yards into the forest and there he was, piled up on an old log.
I couldn’t handle it, and I ran to him, grabbing his massive tines. Just as I counted before, a damn good 11 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 throughout the years. As I stood over this monster, I thought about how proud I felt to have taken such an animal, and the honor behind going head to head with the smartest animal in Wisconsin.
09-13-2008, 01:27 PM
#4
Thread Starter
Join Date: Aug 2008
Location: South Western Wisconsin
Posts: 162
RE: A Story
but instead of picking out the writers errors, i was asking for what people thought of the story? i can add and change things as i go but, i want a critique on what my story is like: please respond!
I always thought that the smartest animal in wisconsin was "stone cold" Steve austin?or is he in minnesota???
09-14-2008, 09:55 PM
#6
Typical Buck
Join Date: Feb 2008
Location: Georgia
Posts: 770
RE: A Story
seemed to be well thought out and flowed pretty well, but just one question.in the middle of the storyyou said this:
yet at the end of the story, you say this:
now i'm no mathematician, but isn't six plus seven 13 points? 
seriously though not being a smart ass just wondered if you picked up on that or did i miss something in the story?
Six points on the left, with one drop tine, and another seven points on the other side
Just as I counted before, a damn good 11 pointer
seriously though not being a smart ass just wondered if you picked up on that or did i miss something in the story?
09-17-2008, 07:08 AM
#8
Dominant Buck
Join Date: Oct 2005
Location:
Posts: 21,043
RE: A Story
but instead of picking out the writers errors, i was asking for what people thought of the story? i can add and change things as i go but, i want a critique on what my story is like: please respond!
Clean up your grammatical mistakes....and I'll give it an honest read/critique. NOBODY likes to fight through a story to understand it....and proper grammar can make OR break a good story. It's true in written AND spoken word.
09-17-2008, 07:13 AM
#9
Senior Member
Join Date: Nov 2006
Location: Portage WI/Racine WI
Posts: 2,320
RE: A Story
ORIGINAL: GMMAT
I'll tell you the same thing now that I told you then (when you sought advice the first time).
Clean up your grammatical mistakes....and I'll give it an honest read/critique. NOBODY likes to fight through a story to understand it....and proper grammar can make OR break a good story. It's true in written AND spoken word.
but instead of picking out the writers errors, i was asking for what people thought of the story? i can add and change things as i go but, i want a critique on what my story is like: please respond!
Clean up your grammatical mistakes....and I'll give it an honest read/critique. NOBODY likes to fight through a story to understand it....and proper grammar can make OR break a good story. It's true in written AND spoken word.
09-17-2008, 07:15 AM
#10
Giant Nontypical
Join Date: May 2005
Location: One mile east of West Podunk Tx
Posts: 5,973
RE: A Story
I agree with Jeff. GRAMMER MATTERS! I won't struggle through it. It is not a well written story if it has a lot of grammatical errors. So, you're not good at writing. I can't tell you if you are a good story teller, I can tell you that IMHO you are NOT a good writer. Sorry about being so blunt but you want opinions, theres mine!