Right Place Right Time

There is nothing more exciting than deer hunting with a stick and string. Obviously today’s products are much more sophisticated than way back when, but the deer still have to be up close to take a shot. This means somehow outsmarting them and then getting lucky enough to have him walk past you at twenty or so yards. November 3rd of this year was a cold calm morning. It had been unseasonably dry this year and getting into the woods without spooking a deer was a hard task to follow. The ground was moist and I was able to slip into my stand without being detected. As I was pulling up my bow I heard a deer walking past me. The deer never spooked, but simply walked on. I settled into my stand as daylight started to break. My eyes were adjusting to the light peering through the woods and my ears were perked as the squirrels ran through the woods. There was no wind at all and I felt like I would be able to here a deer walk up on me from a mile away. Around 7:15 three does had somehow slipped up on me. They had just appeared and the lead doe was ten yards away standing there looking at me. I stayed motionless as she settled down and eventually walked passed me. After they were out of sight I thought to myself that I better start paying a little more attention to the direction in which they came from. Not ten minutes later I caught a glimpse of a deer walking toward me. I had my bow ready in case it was a shooter. I saw antlers but waited until I got a better look. He finally cleared the brush and was closing fast. He was big and tall and no doubt a shooter. Following the trail that the does came through earlier, the buck walked a steady pace. I drew back and tried to stop him. Finally he stopped in a small opening at twelve yards and I released the arrow. I must have knocked the wind out of him as he gasped and ran off. The hit looked good but I wasn’t 100% positive. I sat in my stand shaking going over everything that just happened. Finally after fifteen minutes I slipped out of my stand and went to my truck. I called my brother and one of my best friends, Justin, to help me track him. We waited a little over an hour before heading back into the woods. We got to my stand and I showed them where he was standing when I shot. We found blood immediately and started to follow it. Fifty yards later the buck lay where I had last heard him. He was a big, tall racked eight point with both of his brow tines broken. We gave each other high fives and took several pictures. We drug him out of the woods and went back to my house to hang him up and celebrate.
Bow hunting is a sport of chance. You can have all the right equipment, the best spot in the world, watch the wind and use scent control, but it all comes down to having a little luck. These big bucks don’t get big by being dumb. They get smarter with age and crossing paths with one at twenty yards or less is a feat in itself. That is why I love to bow hunt.