About 3am last night at work I started thinking about some past bowhunts. Bamboo and I were talking on the phone earlier in the day already preparing new territory for this upcoming fall.
The one hunt that sticks out took place in a neighboring State...quite a ways from the truck. Pre rut was on and we were seeing some decent bucks.
As the afternoon approached, we decided to setup about 100 yds from 3 good scrapes and go through our calling routine. I placed some JV lure out 40 yds, 30 then I place the near empty jar 15 yds in front of us...on a log. Wind out of the west...After about 30 minutes of calling Mike catches movement near the scrape.
A nice 8 pt buck worked it over and with him a spike. A few doe calls, I grunted twice then turned and started breaking small limbs. BINGO...here he comes. Circling down wind he cautiously came in looking. At 25 yds I whispered to Mikey..."I'm gonna kill this guy...."
We were sitting side by side in deep depression. Five more yards and I would have a clear shot. The buck then stops...does a 90 degree and walks right in to the jar of JV on the log...I then hear "Don't move...I got him" and with that...the deer stretches out his neck and I see Mikey's arrow zip right through him.
The buck races back, stops and beds down less than 5 YARDS FROM MY NATURAL GROUND BLIND. The spike decides to walk by giving me a 25 yd slightly quartering shot. Mikey ducked and my arrow looked good for 20 yds...then a small limb jumped out and deflected my arrow over the deer's back and it rested about 8 ft high into a tree.
As we glassed the big buck, he put his down. We gave him an hour then eased up. We were about 10 yds away when he throws up his head and bolts out of there! He ran another 60 yds before dropping in his tracks. As darkness was closing in, we realized we're a helluva long way from the truck and the first 100 yd drag was UPHILL.
Half way to the truck...I was out of water. Told Mikey..."I'd pay $10 right now for 12 more ounces..." It took us well over an hour to get the deer out of the woods and loaded in my truck. Stopped at the first gas station on the way home and bought two 32 oz bottles of Gatorade. Should have seen the guy's face when I drank both of them before paying for them.... :laughing:
I was one sore and tired bowhunter the next day...BUT...we were back up there chasing around those brown rodents. Please feel free to add your "Unforgettable Moments" to this thread....
Great story Joe! So good to see a hunting story on the site :)
Love it Joe. Thanks for Sharing. Like Ryan said it is nice to read a hunting story.
10 AM Elk camp Cache Valley Ut. Our good friend and mentor Craig Burris comes into camp and announces "Adam (my son) has a bull down".
I still get emotional................. :campfire:
Many years ago, before he was old enough to hunt, I would take my youngest brother bowhunting with me.
We were sitting back to back on a large stump, and a yearling came in and completely circled us at less than 5 yds. I could feel him quivering hard against my back. He saw me draw the recurve and track the deer for a bit, then let down.
The deer walked away and my brother was smiling from ear to ear, and shook for a bit. I was pretty excited too.
We still talk about it and it's one of my best hunting memories even though no arrow was released.
Love the story. Love to share one of mine since you offered. One of my most memorable moments was turkey hunting with my then 11 year old daughter and another buddy. We set up, called, and stomped around all day, did a lot of cow pie shooting and saw tons of turkeys, and picked up a boat load of sheds. That afternoon we found a roosting area and set up quickly in very little cover before sundown. After a little bit of calling, and getting quite cold, we saw about 30 turkeys in one group coming our way to roost. There were more but I lost count and the other group was farther away. It was crazy. There was a white one in the second group that we saw but were not allowed to shoot. Anyway, some Jakes started to come right to us. It was going to be really hard to draw because we only had cover behind us but what the heck right. It's worked before. They were going to get into my kiddos range for sure. Just then a strutting Tom stepped out behind the Jakes. The Jakes were now closing into range when she leans over to me and whispers "is that a big Tom". I said yes and all by herself she turned into little miss trophy hunter saying "I get the Tom". I just smiled. She ended up passing on the Jakes, they turned off and that darn Tom came in and ran the Jakes off and never got into range of course. I was stunned that she would want to wait for the Tom and pass on her first shot ever, but it was super exciting, and I just loved how she said "I get the Tom". As it was just about dark some Jakes came well within her range and she asked if she could shoot. I feel bad, but I told her no. I was conservative and thought is was a little too dark and they were walking. I definitely cost her a shot she could make. We eventually watched the groups fly to roost in the trees not too far away which was really neat. It was priceless. I have a really raw video here.. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xOLYp-7vTCk
Joe, Your story is a breathe of fresh air!
I will add some of my own later.
Great story Joe. I have one that stick out in my mind. I had gone into my spot well before light, my BW PCH in hand and my climber on my back. I got to my tree, which had a large boulder about the size of a 2 man tent at its base, with a dead tree laying between the boulder and my tree.
I set my climber up but then realized that I didn't have my haul rope!! Well, this seemed like as good a time as any to ground hunt, and this boulder looked like it'd make an ok ground blind. I sat on the dead tree and was tucked away behind the rock. I positioned myself for a shot to the left with the rock in front of me.
Just as legal shooting light crept in, I looked over to the knob about 60 yards in front, out at about 2 Oclock ..... and there was a pretty good 8 walking toward me. The way he was walking would have put him quartering way from my on the left side of the rock at about 10 to 12 yards. As he go closer, I lost sight of him as the rock hid his view.
I was getting ready for the shot to my left. I kept hearing the crunching of the leaves on my left side, I look to my right and there he is walking 5 FEET from me......and he stops!!!! I'm staring through his 100" rack....I can see the pours in his nose as he sniffs around. I was froze...my heart was pounding....I'm sure that the buck could hear me breathing!! There was no way that I could switch for a shot to my right.
The buck stood there for what seemed to be an hour, although in reality it was probably only 20 to 30 second. He realized that something was just not quite right, and stiff legged it out of there. I wasn't able to take that buck, but I didn't care...it was worth every heart pounding second!!
Great hunt re-cap Joe. Love a good hunting story of special hunts. I'll add one later if you don't mind? :thumbsup:
I hope a lot more guys share their hunts on this thread...I got a bunch but will hold off for a while....here at work... :eek: :nono:
I'll share one Joe.
This hunt happened my Freshman year of college on November 22, 2009. It was probably one of the coldest November mornings I have ever hunted the wind was howling and it was probably in the mid 20s. My dad offered to let me hunt a spot in his climber and he told me he would be over the ridge about 150 yds behind me.
After sitting until about 11 am I was about to start climbing down because I was nearly frozen when all of a sudden a buck comes running from my left to my right and then takes a hard turn behind my tree and stops at about 12 yards. I nocked an arrow as quick as a could and drilled him right in the ponch! He takes off like a maniac in the same direction as my father.
By this time I'm pretty rattled so I am frantically trying to call dad and tell him what happened but he is not answering. Finally about 15 minutes later he calls me and says your not going to believe what happend, he says "I just shot a giant, a buck came running in with an arrow sticking out of its ponch and I drew on him then he beds down right in front of me, when out of the holler a bruiser sees this smaller buck and charges up the hill looking for a a fight. I asked him where he hit the deer and he states that he believes the shot was good, but the other buck with the arrow (my buck) took off.
After finally calming down and assessing the situation we decided to take up the trail of his buck. So we got my grandpa and started tracking, the blood was very thin for nearly two hundred yards when i look up the next hillside and see a buck lying dead. I starting going crazy yelling theres your buck dad there he is! But as we approach i realize this buck was actually my deer because the arrow is still in his ponch!! talk about one excited hunter! this was my first trad deer I was ecstatic.
After we got my deer back to the house we started looking for dads buck. But after searching for blood for hours we came to the conclusion that dad had either only grazed the buck or the shot was not fatal. Unfortunately dads giant was never recovered. However we did get some trail pics of the buck that he believes it was. And it was truly a magnificent deer but after that season the deer was never seen again.
This hunt is by far the most memorable so far in my life, it could have only been better had we found dad's deer as well. But I still think it will be hard to beat.
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Was hunting in north west Ontario with my brother in law . The guide had taken us many miles out in a power boat and we changed to a canoe and were floating in a beaver pond .
My brother in law said " Look " while pointing to the sky . A bald eagle was soaring down towards us and snatched a nice trout from the water just a few feet from us . That was a real WOW moment .
It was 2006 in Colorado. I was hunting with two good friends. I had a kidney stone "attack" at about 4:30AM on the first morning in the mountains. My friends took me too the ER -- 3 times before emergency surgery removed the stone (on day 3). They gave up valuable hunting time taking me to and from the FT. Collins Regional Hospital which was 90 miles away.
I was only able to hunt every other day after the surgery. On the next to the last day of the 9-day hunt myself and buddy Jim arrived at a bench we would hunt that morning. We heard an elk bugle. We agreed Jim would stay on the bench at the same contour of the bull. I would go higher in case he moved that direction.
Less than 45 minutes later I heard a whoop!! from down on the bench. When I moved to a position where I could see down the bench I saw my buddy with both hands raised. He had killed the 280 PY 5 point less than 30 minutes after day light. My other buddy killed a cow.
I was very happy these great friends took home these elk.
It was one of those years with a pore mast crop and the doe numbers were down due to that and the local coyote population. Refusing to kill any of my does, I kept hunting hard for a buck but wasn't connecting. I found an area that had been recently visited by a buck, and so I set up in the area in hopes of spotting him. After the second morning with nothing to show for it, I headed home with plans to try a different location.
As I was walking toward home threw the open woods, I spotted a deer at about 70 yrds ahead of me. I stood still for a moment and realized it was a doe with a yearling. Behind the two deer was a transition area with a little brush, briers and honeysuckle. The deer were browsing and seemed quite relaxed as they feed along the transition. With no intention of shooting either of these deer, I decided to see how close i could sneak up on them threw the open woods. I dropped slowly to the ground and crept on my hands and knees as I watched and moved like a cat, moving only when the deer were turned or looking away. For forty five minutes I played cat, only advancing when the opportunity arose.
Finally at about 25 yrds, the small deer laid down and momma grazed off to it's right somewhere behind the sparse bushes. I could see that the yearling had a dark chest and what appeared to be the starting of antlers bumping under the hair on it's head. I was certain enough, that as the deer arose to graze, I got to a kneeling position and shot for the crease behind the front leg. I watched as the arrow hit it's mark and the deer ran off in the direction i was headed. The Zwickey Eskimo had cut and smashed threw the front leg and came to rest nicely on the other side of the heart. I had finally done it: A successful spot and stalk in the open woods and a nice shot at 22 yrds. Now that's a trophy buck!
Thanks for the stories. I'll add one. I started taking my sons with me when they were young. One evening, sitting in a ground blind with my youngest son who was four years old, watched a buck and two does head our way. My son was eating on a snack that I had brought along for him,when the deer headed our way, I told him deer were coming and he asked me, There not going to eat my snack? The deer came close enough for me to take a shot at the buck, well I missed, to make matters worse all I heard from my son was "You missed". I looked down at him and he wasn't even looking at the deer, he was concentrating on his snack!
Standing on the corner of a high grass field just off an old logging road in a cluster of trees, I found myself watching closely all around on a cold November morning. I could see my breath in the cold air every time I exhaled.
After standing for a while, I spot several does walking directly toward where I was perfectly concealed by this little group of trees. The does came into my area browsing on leaves and twigs. There were actually three of them total. They worked in closer and closer until one of them was munching on a sapling tree leaf not more than 4-5 yards away from the spot I was hidden. I could hear her chewing!
With 3 sets of eyes pointed in my direction and being on the ground, I was pinned down where I stood. I couldn't move and none of them were in quite the right position for a shot anyway. After maybe 5 minutes of this, I watch one doe squat to urinate and I though silently, "I hope she is in estrous".
The does finally feed past my location and pick up a bit of my scent. They trot off into the woods, but don't blow or snort. By this time it is still only 9 am and the morning is very crisp yet. After about 5-10 minutes following the does departure, I hear a great racket just down in the small ravine out of my line of sight. Then a really handsome and thick bodied 8 point buck comes up over a small ridge into view! He is an older buck with a solid set of antlers on his head. A sight to behold for sure!
I was initially shocked that it was a deer after all the noise I heard. Before seeing him, I had wondered if a local farmers pig had gotten loose with all the grunting and general chaos he had been creating in an otherwise silent woods. The doe had been in season and he followed every last step she made when she was in the general area of my ambush site. Eventually he offered me a severe(almost straight away) quartering shot. I drew on him and had to let down because of the bad angle.
He faced straight away from me for a while at about 5 yards and then turned quickly and came right to the other side of the tree I was standing behind. There we were in the cold morning air. This buck was only 4-5 feet away just on the other side of the tree. He couldn't smell me since the wind was perfectly from him to me. When I say he was that close it is no exaggeration. I am on one side of the tree and he is standing there looking around just on the other side of it. Every time the buck would breath out, the cloud from his breath would drift within inches of my face. He stood there for what seemed to be years, but was only probably a minute.
Eventually, he started to move forward and went back to the job of finding the does that had passed by me earlier. He too eventually worked behind me and wound up getting some of my scent. That buck trotted off in the same direction of the does and out of my field of view. He never offered me a better angle than the severe quartering shot and I had to watch him slip away.
I will always have the memory of him standing only feet away and watching his breath rise right in front of my face through the cold air. It may be better than any "trophy" I have. What a morning.
This goes back many years but I remember it like it was yesterday. Back when I was courting my wife my eventual father-in-law learned I was a hunter and invited me to hunt some land he had been given permission to hunt. I agreed to meet him at his house well before sunrise and we would make the 20 minute drive to the farm.
It was a cold drizzly November morning, the damp air chilled you to the bone. When we arrived my father-in-law showed me the general lay of the land, and areas where he had seen deer in the past. After a brief strategy session I decided to sit on the South end of the property where the corn butted up to a thin strip of woods that ran parallel with a small creek. Where the field and woods met it sloped fairly steeply down 10-12 feet to a flat creek bottom. From the bottom of the slope it was 50-60 yards across the flat to the edge of the creek. I decided to set up on the ground just a few yards into the woods in a decent make-shift ground blind. I noticed a couple scrapes along the edge of the field so I was pretty happy with my set-up, figuring I had shots if a deer came along the edge of the field or near the bottom of the slope in the flat. It wasn't long and I hear the unmistakably sound of a grunt, I look towards the creek and see a nice buck cruising the edge of the creek on my side. I gave a few grunts, but he was on a mission and never even looked up. About 20 minutes later I spot 2 more nice bucks moving in the same direction as the first buck on the far side of the creek. At this point I decide I'm in the wrong spot, I need to get down near the edge of the creek so I can get a shot regardless of what side of the creek they were on. So I sneak down across the flat and set up next to a huge Sycamore tree.
I'm not in my new spot 10 minutes and I notice a brute of a buck walking the edge of the corn field at the top of the slope. This baby was the type of deer that you dream about - massive shoulders and thick neck, big, broad Roman nose and a huge chocolate brown, webbed 10-12 point rack. I knew it was a dandy the first second I saw it. But of course I had just moved from the location the buck would soon be passing within 10 yds. of. I only spent a second scolding myself for not staying put and focused on trying to get this stud to come down the slope and across the flat into my shooting range. I let out a soft grunt, he immediately stopped, looked my way and began surveying the scene to identify where the sound came from. There was a fair amount of brambles, brush and tall nettles in the flat between the buck and myself, so I was well concealed. After what seemed like an eternity, he continued walking down the edge of the field. I quickly let out another slightly louder grunt. This time he spun and took about 4-5 steps down the slope. I stayed frozen, so as not to give away my location and to see what his next move was. After not seeing the source of the grunt he again began to walk away, back up the slope. This same scenario played out another couple times. On the last time he became very cautious and you could tell he was thinking something was not right. So he walked back up the slope and instead of continuing his course along the edge of the field he kept going North straight away from me across the corn stubble. I grunted again, but he was having no more of that and never broke stride. At that point I figured I might as well go for broke, I grabbed my rattling horns and smashed them together and gave them a quick, hard rattle. I stood with the horns in my hands watching to see if he would respond. Well, respond would be a major understatement. The second I hit the horns, he spun 180,came leaping down the slope, crashing through the brush and weeds, bounding out 4-5 yards in front me. As he was making his charge, I was on one knee scrambling to get rid of the horns and grab my bow to get ready for a possible shot. I barely had the bow in my hand and he was directly in front of me, steam and snot rolling out of his nose and fire in his eyes. We were so close, I could make out every detail of his face. There we were in a stand-off staring at each other. It felt like forever, but within a few seconds he realized I wasn't what he came for and was ready to bolt. I quickly made a futile attempt to quickly raise my bow and snap off a shot. I barely started to move my arm and he was gone.
I sat there shaking like a leaf from the adrenaline rush. After a couple hours I met my father-in law back at the truck and went over the whole story with him with the enthusiasm of a little excited kid. He just smiled.
This location would provide me several more awesome encounters over the next few years – Thanks, Dad.
Sorry double post
I have many but. When my daughter was about 11 I took her out for a evening post for deer she. Has been in the woods with me since a baby and I would teach her bird and deer calls . Well we got settled in and I said ok. Shan. Do your fawn call . She started bleating and we heard something running toward us , and a doe came up to us not 8yrds away man Shannon's. eyes were popping out ! She said dad that was cool ! A said yes it sure was
Opening weekend a few year back, a 5x5 Colorado bull elk stood-up from his bed and walked up to me from 100 yards out and stopped broadside in front me at 7 yards for 4 minutes, while I stood in open timber, with nothing between us. When our eyes met he sensed the predator in me and bolted.
I never shot because I had a mule deer tag and a my brother held the elk permit.
Five minutes after he ran off, his companion bull, of equal size, walked up to within 15 yards of me and did the same thing.
I have yet to shoot an elk.
Kris
Last year........first time I ever set up with my Ghilie Shaggy suit. First time out I had a doe at 5 yards and could not even raise my bow to shoot. She kept feeding and looking at me, then feeding again. Lasted about 5 minutes. I said to myself next time I'll setup so I can see her earlier, so I did that. Don't a buck with 8" spikes come in from the other direction and do the same thing...LOL! He was even closer and I couldn't do anything. Even though no shots came about it was still a great experience. :wavey:
Great stories guys! I love them all!
When my son was 15 we went pheasant hunting. I suggested we take a couple of shotguns, he wanted to take bows, just in case we saw deer. He grabbed his 50 pound Big 5, so I took my 89 pound Big 5. We used some slapped together shoot away arrows with various points, mostly blunted three blade Hi-Precisions that I got free. We were working a weedy hill top corn field very slowly, (no death marches when hunting pheasants with longbows). A longtailed cock busted between us and headed straight away. We shot at the same time, My arrow came out of my with a bang and split in flight, my son's arrow tossed off a feather and did a long spiral around the pheasant. Then Cody, pointing with high authority at the fleeing pheasant and yelled out, "and the Lord said NO".
This took place 3 yrs ago...in Jersey with the other 2 members of Tri-State Terrors...Bamboo and Southpawshooter. Bucks were starting to get active and this was a perfect day for rattling and calling, cold, drizzling and overcast.
We setup at the base of a mtn. Mike and Scott were 20 yds in front of me and to the right. I was hidden behind a large tree where I would rattle and grunt and beat the ground.
Mike would bleat, I'd rattle....grunt some and Scott did his thing...snap some limbs. It was roughly 30 minutes and I figured enough..lets move on when Mikey turns and starts pointing. 50 yds out here comes this wide 4 pt. He was slowly walking in looking to see what all the commotion was.
We had placed some JV out 40 and 20 yds because the wind was blowing east to west and we figured anything coming in....would come from the west. The buck slowly made his way in surveying downhill. At this point...Mikey who was closer, was looking at a 40 yd shot with no clear lanes.
The buck started to circle and I realized....I'm going to get this shot. Slowly grabbed my Groves and waited. The buck was uphill, 35 yds...he turned his head to clear some brush but I had the opening. When I released, the arrow hit hard...and Mikey saw the arrow slam into him.
The buck then turns and bolts in the direction he just came. Mikey then lets out a few loud doe bleats AND THE BUCK STOPS....TURNS AND STARTS TO TROT BACK IN!!! He covered maybe 25 yds then fell over in mid stride. After field dressing, I buried the deer in leaves because we still had a whole day of hunting.
Thank God Scott had his GPS(Garmin Etrex) because he took the waypoint of my buck. By the time we headed off the Mtn, it was getting real foggy and "everything started to look the same". Another long drag back to the truck but it was another great hunt to remember.
Here we go. I was with my bow hunting partner, cousin Ray in South Cacka hunting what else? Hogs! Second day of the hunt had me gazing over a sounder of pork from the road while they gorged themselves on chestnut oaks.
After watching them a while and getting antsy as they were pretty open and moving away, I hear a noise coming in from my back right. I look back and here comes Cuz, stalking the same hogs.
We get together and formulate a plan of battle. He was to stay put and I was gonna loop around un front of the hogs and try to push them his way. As Im looping around on a dirt trail I start seeing chert in the dirt, reddish chert. I stop to check it and I see its been worked. A little digging and I start finding broken artifacts. I guess I lost track of time cause Ray started stalking in on the hogs before I could try and push them to him.
I hear a ruckus of snorting and squealing in the palmettos just off of the trail. I pocket my artifacts and start hunting again and dive into the swamp and palmettos. I looked for Cuz but couldn't locate him. I climbed up on a log to get a vantage point over the thick stuff and a hog runs past me. No shot so I take up after it and it is joined by another sow and a bunch of footballs.
I followed them along a slough of standing water and started getting closer to them when all of a sudden one of the sows runs left to right in front of me into the swamp. At first I can hear what sounds like a fight but could not see her. In a minute or so she regrouped with her companions and hustled off. I start creeping to see what she was fighting with and see a big boar feeding up to his ears in the mud on a small island.
After a waist deep stalk through standing swamp I got 10 yards from him. When I saw him dig his snout into the mud again I drew and hit him in his rear rib quartering hard away from me. He ran another 10 yards and stopped to look back. I shot him again in his shoulder and he ran about 5 more yards and stopped. I watched him hang his head and fall into the muddy swamp. I could hear him breathing bubbles under the water and he couldn't get his head up. I moved in to give him another arrow but he was done before I got to him.
145 lbs of delicious meat and a lifetime of memories. Ill be there in another 2 months again, can't wait. (http://i122.photobucket.com/albums/o244/2crazyboys_photos/DSCN1249-2.jpg) (http://s122.photobucket.com/user/2crazyboys_photos/media/DSCN1249-2.jpg.html)
I was antelope hunting in a new area to me, with my brother and a buddy. we spotted this HUGE lone buck, and it was my turn to make a sneak.
I remember it was over 100 degrees, and in order to get the topography right I had to make a LONG stalk out of this. I was sweating my rear off by the time I got to within 100 yards.
the buck had since bedded, and I got low and moved in. took me a while, but I finally got to a point where I wasn't quite as close as I wanted, but wasn't going to get any closer. honestly, it was probably 5-10 yards further than I should have been shooting, but I talked myself into it that I could make this shot.
I was at that time shooting wood arrows out of my bighorn recurve, and I picked a spot at the bedded monster and let it fly. what happened then was kind of a blur, as the arrow appeared to go right where I wanted, but the buck got up and took off. I glassed and glassed him and could tell I had missed, but was stumped as to how. walking over to his bed, I found my arrow stuck in the dirt just past it, the shaft passing through his bed about 4 inches above the ground. ive heard of string jumping where they duck the arrow, this one jumped UP before it got there.
I never got another shot at that antelope, nor did I fill my tag at all, but what a hunt.
One of my most vivid hunting memories will always be of my first trad deer kill. Like many of us here I had hunted with many types of weapons on my journey to the traditional bow. I knew that it was a serious commitment to hunt with a trad bow and I was finally ready in the summer of 2011. The 2011 deer season passed quickly and I had passed on shots well under 20 yards. I was pleased with myself for not taking the shots. I felt I had matured as a hunter. By the 2012 season my shooting was improved and so was my confidence. I had a couple close calls but it wasn't until the end of November that it happened. I was able to watch two does heading my way and as the larger one stepped into one of my shooting lanes I took the shot. It was an afternoon hunt and I thought the shot was a bit "back". I snuck out and returned with my Dad in the morning. We walked up to her together, right where I had last seen her jump a low fence. The emotion of the moment was overwhelming. It was hugs and high fives. My Dad knew how much this meant to me and I'm glad he was there to share it. I was thankful to God and proud of myself. I had achieved a personal goal that I set 15 month's earlier.
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It was bow season in NY and without much time to hunt this particular day, I decided to check out an area I hadn't hunted in a few years.Scouting the area was the reason i walked out the back door of my house, but of coarse you always want to take a bow with you just in case. The area was an old road bed that some years would see use by deer. I got to the road and found that indeed a buck was working the roadway with scraps and rubs dotting the road bed as I traveled it's length. Upon reaching what appeared to be the last scrap, two does took off ahead of me some 25 to thirty yrds. The does came from the left side of the road and crossed it heading south. The air was quite still this day and it would be dark in an hour or so. With the presents of fresh buck activity and the scent of does crossing his rub and scrap line, the decision was instant.......hunt this spot NOW!
Now I had no stand or blind here. so the best option after surveying the situation was to take a stand in front of a large pine tree just off the north side of the road. There was little cover here and I needed the large diameter tree to hide my frame. As I stood in front of the tree with little hope for a sighting, not ten or fifteen minutes had gone by when suddenly there he was. From the very scrap line I had just walked down came a young buck. He was walking and sniffing his scraps as he went, unstopped by my trail in, and continued exactly where I had walked to within 10 yrds of me. He stopped and looked right at me and I remember thinking this is it, he's going to make me out and that will be that. No, he starts walking again right toward me and past my tree at no more than 5 ft. in front of me- I could have hit him over the head with my bow. I thought,how cool is this, he's going to hit that doe trail and follow those does. Without a shot yet, I watched as he suddenly put his nose to the ground and started following the does I had watched cross the old road bed. As he reached the other side of the road, he paused just long enough for me to raise my long bow and send an arrow to the quartering away buck only seven yrds away. I couldn't believe what had just happened as the buck headed south in the direction of the does. It was the second time in three years I had managed to tag a deer from the ground, with no blind or gillie suit. The seven point was no monster, but the hunt was huge, and so was my sense of a true trophy....... again Unbelievable! What a hunt!
Following are a few short stories I rolled into one title of "Gifts". Pretty long, but I hope you enjoy.
Prickly Messenger - "Terry, wake up, there's something outside the tent" Tina whispered. "So! Go back to sleep." This wasn't exactly what my wife wanted to hear. "It's still out there" she continued. Being the hero type, I immediately turned on the flashlight and shined it through the tent wall while yelling "hah, go on, get out of here!" Satisfied that I had rescued Tina from a grizzly mauling or moose trampling, I rolled over and went back to sleep. Two minutes later Tina nudges me and says, "it's still out there." "Ok! Ok!" Armed with questionable courage, a flashlight, and a shotgun with slugs, I started to unzip the tent and head out to face the danger. I glanced back and told Tina I would be right back. Again, this wasn't something Tina was excited to hear. She wasn't going to stay in the tent while I was out battling the unknown. At least I knew my backside was safe because Tina was plastered to it! Upon exiting the tent, and shining my flashlight in the direction of the twig snapping, I saw two beady little eyes glaring back at me. Fortunately, they turned out to belong to a very large porcupine. After poking him with the gun barrel and shooing him away, Tina and I looked up and witnessed the most awe-inspiring vision we have ever seen. Tina and I were on a drop hunt for moose in the deep Alaskan bush near the Artic Circle, and what we were seeing was a glorious Aurora Borealis.
It took a while to put two and two together, but we finally realized that the porcupine was a "gift" from Heaven. We would never have emerged from the comfort of our warm dry tent at 2:00 AM to venture out in hopes of seeing the Aurora. Thanks to the porcupine, Tina and I will have a memory that will last forever. A 2nd gift was bestowed on me during this very same hunt in the form of a 66" wide 219 6/8" bull moose.
Often times we overlook these gifts and take them as dumb luck, coincidence, or self-preparation. I have been on the receiving end of many gifts and a few of them are described below.
Snowflakes on My Tongue - Another gift was given to me during a very wet September 2002 Alaskan moose hunt.
Out of the 11 days I spent in the bush, it rained nine and snowed one. This was my partner's first trip to Alaska and by day 6 he was beginning to get a little downcast. I, on the other hand, had experienced Alaska and all she could throw at me on a previous caribou hunt. This hunt was a cakewalk compared to my 1997 caribou hunt when I was tent bound by 70 mph winds and horizontal rain for three straight days. Another party was also camped nearby and experienced some true discomfort. One of their tent poles snapped and they spent over 36 hours holding the tent off of themselves while sitting in six inches of water. We invited them into our tent, but they gracefully refused indicating they were afraid to move because the puddle they were laying in was at least warm. So compared to my 1997 caribou hunt, I was loving life. Sure we were experiencing some inconvenience, but at least we could get out and move around.
For whatever reason (late rut, nasty weather) we were not seeing many legal bulls, in fact, we had only see one for sure shooter in 6 days. No matter, I was still very confident that I would get a bull. My partner, on the contrary, was less than enthusiastic about the deluge of rain and lack of bulls. I kept trying to reassure him, that if we just kept patient and optimistic, that the odds were good that we would get our chance. It was probably a bit easier for me to remain positive due to the fact that I had hunted the exact same location one year earlier and had harvested the bull mentioned above.
I always try to look at the bright side of situations and quickly realized that no matter how bad the weather was, I was still in a far better place than my office back in Indiana. The 7th day of the hunt dawned as one to remember. It was about 28oF, overcast, and the grass was frosted heavily creating a spectacular sunrise scene. The weather deteriorated to heavy snow, that I found to be simply exhilarating. I took several pictures and was simply giddy inside. I even reverted back to my childhood and began catching the half dollar sized snowflakes on my tongue. I'm certain I was quite the spectacle. A 40-year-old man, in the middle of the Alaskan wilderness, catching snowflakes on his tongue.
After the glorious morning hunt my partner and I were back in camp preparing lunch when I mentioned what an awesome morning it had been. Perspective is everything! His comments were more in line with "What was so great about it? The weather stunk and we didn't see any bulls." I tried to explain my enthusiasm and even told him about catching the snowflakes on my tongue. I'm pretty certain he thought I was nuts! Well, I thanked God for his splendor, and remained positive that I would get a bull. Low and behold, a few minutes later I was drawing my recurve bow on a terrific 61" bull at the awe inspiring distance of 6 paces. The shot was slightly quartering too, but at 6 paces I felt confident in placing the Rothhaar Snuffer tipped arrow tight behind the shoulder. The shot took both lungs and the liver. After the shot, the bull lunged forward and I had to jump back off the trail to avoid being trampled. The bull turned out to be an awesome animal with an unofficial green score of 201 6/8" P&Y.
I fully believe I was given the bull as a "gift" for maintaining a positive attitude and for reveling in God's creation!
To Shoot or Not Too Shoot? That is the Question! - October 5, 2002 dawned as a simply spectacular morning. The temperature was mild, the wind was light and from the right direction for my stand, and the sky was clear and bright. I made a virtually silent stand approach and my scent trail was only about 10 yards long due to walking over 200 yards in the middle of a water filled drainage ditch. The set-up was nearly perfect and all that was necessary was for the deer to move. And move they did! At approximately 8:00 AM a borderline Pope & Young buck was standing almost broadside at 5 yards and had no clue that I was around. Sounds like a perfect situation for the vast majority of hunters. However, I was having a terrible time deciding on if I should shoot or not. It was the 1st weekend of the season and I'd already seen a much larger buck, a slightly larger buck, a small 6 pt, 3 does, and the buck I was looking at was accompanied by one of equal stature. The dilemma I was facing was because of the new one-buck rule effective for Indiana's deer season. If I shot, I would be done buck hunting for the season and would have no opportunities for a larger buck.
What Would You Have Done? I only had a split second to contemplate my decision and time was running out. The buck mentioned above was running with another buck of like size. The other buck was also a P&Y contender but did not carry the mass of the buck trailing him. The lead buck was right under my stand and had just crossed my scent trail and was starting to get nervous. I knew he could blow the situation wide open any second. The 2nd buck was about 5 yards behind the first and was pawing the ground and chewing on a branch. He was completely relaxed and unaware of any impending danger. The shot would be at most 5 yards, slightly quartering too, and at a fairly steep angle since I was pretty high in the tree. It was now or never! The thing that made me shoot was a saying I heard many years ago, "if it's big enough to shoot on the last day, it's big enough to shoot on the first". I would have shot him on the last day! I was extremely fortunate and the shot went exactly where I aimed. My 75# custom TimberHawk 3-piece recurve pushed the Snuffer tipped POC arrow up to the fletching and punched a hole on the lower half of the opposite side. After retrieving my two sons, my long time hunting buddy and his 13 year-old son, we took to the trail and found the 120" buck. The concerning part was that I wasn't jumping up and down dancing in the leaves. I was almost apologetic to my hunting cronies when I told them about the buck I killed. This bothered me a lot so I asked around to find out what others would have done. The answer that helped me overcome my upsetting feelings was answered on an internet forum as follows: "Last year, while scouting I saw a big 8 pt running does. I set a treestand and hunted the area with the intention of only shooting at the big boy. On the last day of the hunt a doe came by but was out of range. 20 minutes later a spike came by on the same trail. The spike was not "bird dogging" the doe, just walking down the same trail. He stopped just out of range and started feeding. He fed to about 30 yards and offered a broadside shot. I debated whether to shoot or wait for the big boy. For no particular reason the spike walked to within 15 yards of my stand and again offered a broadside shot. At that moment something inside me said; "Take what the Lord gives you". I truly believe that God chooses which deer to give to me. So, not one to argue with God I went in "auto mode", made a good shot with my recurve and the spike was down within 75 yards. At first I felt a little disappointment in myself for not having the patience to wait for the trophy. Then I realized that any deer killed with a bow is a trophy and that this deer was a gift from God."
Did I Make The Right Decision? - For me, yes! After some extensive soul searching, I realized I was not giving due credit to the situation I was placed in. The decision really didn't have much to do with being limited to one buck. Hunting is so much more than killing! There were a multitude of things that were right with this hunt and I now kick myself for even hesitating about celebration. I should have been celebrating a truly magnificent animal (regardless of antler size), a day afield with my children, time with a good hunting buddy (real handy come drag time), and an absolutely magnificent morning. As I now realize, my sadness was not about ending my buck season, but about ending what was a truly blessed day. I am extremely happy with my one buck and wish all of you the opportunity to receive such a "gift".
Turkey Cramps - The pain in my lower leg was almost unbearable and there was no relief in sight. The three turkeys within 40 yards of me were the reason for my leg cramp and immobility. I was suffering from severe "turkey cramps"! Those of you who have bowhunted turkeys without a blind know what I'm talking about. We've all been picked off for the slightest movement and watched helplessly as the sharp-eyed bird beat a hasty retreat. I had been virtually motionless for almost 2 ½ hours and for the last 30 minutes I had three sets of razor sharp eyes scanning the area. I knew if I so much as twitched the two gobblers and hen would be gone, as would be my chance to harvest one of the mature toms. The hen was 40 yards off to the right and two long beards were directly in front of me at 15 yards. I really wanted to arrow the larger bird but he would not strut to shield his eyes and allow me to shoot. For me to have any chance at harvesting a tom, all of the bird's eyes would have to be obscured. Finally, the setup was perfect – the hen had her head down, the smaller tom was strutting with his rear toward me and his fan was blocking the vision of the big tom. I had less than a second to pull, aim, and shoot. This was the culmination of a really long and frustrating morning.
It all began on the afternoon of Tuesday April 22, 2003. It was the eve of the hunting opener for Meleagris gallopavo silvestris - the Eastern Wild Turkey. I had traveled 3 hours from my Northeast Indianapolis home to a new farm I had just gained access to. I made a previous scouting foray and was extremely happy with my turkey sightings. I counted over 120 turkeys in one field and saw over 150 birds on the 5 farms I had access to. To say I was optimistic for a successful opener would be an understatement. The pre-opener afternoon scouting was reassuring as well. I spotted three swinging beards in the exact corner of the field I was planning to hunt. I moved to the corner of the woods adjacent to where it opened into the field and spotted the three gobblers feeding in a cut bean field. While glassing them with my 8X42 Redfields I moved to peer around a tree for a better view. One of the birds picked up my motion from over 150 yards away and through the trees. I was dumbfounded! How in the world could an animal be so wary? I immediately backed out of the area to prevent alarming them too much. I then checked out the other farms I had access to. They all held a few birds, but I was stoked for a hunt in the cut bean field with hopes of sticking one of the beard draggers. I drove back to the original farm and set up camp for a fitful nights rest. I knew the anticipation would keep me up most of the night. What I didn't expect was the pack of growling dogs circling my tent for over an hour. After an unsuccessful attempt at hollering and shining my light through the tent to run them off, I succumbed to the premise that one of them was going to die if they didn't leave soon. Fortunately, when I stepped out of the tent with bow in one hand and a flashlight in the other, they pulled a Snagglepuss and exited stage right!
Having not hunted this particular farm before and knowing that the owner was not enforcing his "No Trespassing" signs, I fully expected company in the morning. To assure myself of my desired setup, I headed for the field at 4:00 AM. My blind and decoys were arranged by 4:30 AM and then I set back and enjoyed the wakening of the day. It would have been a bit more enjoyable if it weren't so darn cold! I awoke Wednesday morning to a thermometer reading of 32oF. Fortunately, no other hunters invaded my desired hunting locale. There were certainly plenty of vehicle lights heading to the big woodlot behind the cut bean field. I didn't have permission to hunt the big woods and was limited to about 50 yards of depth from the field edge.
The first bird roost gobbled at 5:25 AM setting off a virtual gobbling chorus. I know I heard 5 distinct birds and there were probably more. I was really getting worked up and started some soft yelping to let them know I was ready to be courted. After each soft keouk, keouk, keouk with my Cherokee Slim or Harvest Calls IBA Special Edition box call one of the toms would double or even triple gobble a response. I heard several birds fly down and just knew they would be strutting in front of my blind any second. At 6:00 AM I yelped a few more times and heard the gobbles getting closer. BANG! Scared me so bad it almost knocked me off my bucket! Evidently, the ridge adjacent to the field held a pretty good concentration of hunters. I heard 3 different toms respond to my calls and sound as if they were closing in before the BANG! This was very frustrating and I was losing my confidence and resolve pretty quickly. The cold weather caused the emergent weed growth in the bean field to frost over pretty heavily. I can't say for certain, but I am guessing turkeys don't like walking in a frosty field if they can avoid it. So, I think they stayed in the woods and didn't make it to the field. By 9:00 AM I had heard enough and packed up my decoy and blind and headed for the truck. I drove back to camp, packed it up, and then drove to option number two for some cruise calling. At 9:30 AM a bird responded from what sounded to be 500 yards away across a big open cut bean field. The field had a little rise in the middle that sloped down to the woods edge on each side. I set up my hen decoy on the down side of the rise so the gobblers would have to come over the hill to see who was sweet talking them. I then nuzzled into a honeysuckle thicket and started my serenading. I rotated between four calls and kept the tom's interest. It sounded like he was getting closer but after an hour of talking back and forth I still hadn't seen the bird. After a particularly seductive series of yelps I heard a gobble quite a ways off to my left. I thought he was moving off so I took a chance and peeked up over the field rise. I immediately saw the source of the last gobble on the opposite side of the field approximately 200 yards distant. I then scanned back to the corner of the field where most of the original gobbling had occurred and was surprised to see another fantail and a hen. I was really lucky I didn't get pegged and immediately ducked back down into my honeysuckle sanctuary. Having two mature toms vying for the affection of a live hen meant I had my work cut out for me. I tried some more sexy yelping with no results. After another half an hour I decided I needed a new strategy. I pulled out my raspy hen diaphragm call and aggressively called to the hen. I surmised that if I could get her to make a visit then the lovelorn boys would follow. I mixed up the calls from cackles, purrs, cuts, and kee kee runs. The kee kee run call is what brought her in. She peeked over the rise and saw my hen decoy rotate in the wind and all was fine in the world. She came within 10 yards of the decoy and visited for a while before wandering off to the right. About 10 minutes later two red and blue heads appeared on the horizon. They started to move toward the live hussy hen but a few sleazy yelps from Cherokee Slim brought them over for a late morning interlude. This brings us back to the beginning of the story.
The 75# TimberHawk bow pulled back effortlessly and quietly. I quickly aimed for the vent of the fanning bird and released. I was ecstatic to see my Snuffer tipped Black Rose Archery POC arrow impact a mere inch to the right of my point of aim. The tom jumped and flew about 5 yards and then settled back down. After about a minute he then simply fell. The other tom and hen stood around until I moved and then PUTT, whirl, whiz, gone! It took a good minute to get up off of my knees and revive my legs enough to walk over to my prize. And what a prize he was. The tom was later weighed in at 25 pounds with a 9 ½" beard and 25 mm spurs. The check-in biologist aged him at 3 years old.
The above stories are only the tip of the iceberg of gifts that I have received. I could wax on until the wee hours describing an amazing bowhunt with my two young sons, a Wyoming antelope hunt, a goose hunt in the snow, a spring turkey hunt, a foggy morning deer hunt, and many more.
As you can see from the above stories, gifts come in all shapes and sizes. They could be in the form of an exceptional animal, a beautiful view, a memorable experience with a child, perfect weather, or the answer to a prayer. It is our responsibility to recognize the gift and to give thanks to Heaven for sending them. So, next time you have a particularly memorable experience, sit back and think about what it took for things to happen. If I were a betting man, I would wager that you would quickly realize that you have received a gift from Heaven.
This is what I'm talking about...good stories that are etched in our minds...keep 'em coming.
Here's this years
http://tradgang.com/noncgi/ultimatebb.php?ubb=get_topic;f=1;t=135440
My son and I were turkey hunting out west in the North Platte area of Nebraska. It was the last day of our three day hunt. Our friend who had already shot one was driving us around looking at old family history stuff, homesteads, farm land, etc.
I had pretty much given up on getting one as it seemed to be too hot in the afternoons. The birds just seemed to shut down.
Well, my son got tired of the history lessons and from the back seat says "Dad, I want to try and get a turkey".
I asked my friend to turn around and take us back to the property, about a 1/2 hour away. He agrees and drops us off. As we were exiting the truck we see a group of hens, jakes and a few toms down in a field. The field was surrounded by canyons on two sides and hills on the other two sides.
I thought it was a long shot but thought maybe we could drop down the side of the canyon and stalk around the field to get to the turkeys.
Well, this down into the canyon, up into the field, down into the canyon, up into the field went on for about an hour. We would pop up near the field edge and they would be past us or we would pass them.
I was hot, tired, thirsty and full of cactus needles. I looked at my son and said I just don't this is gonna work. He looked at me with big round eyes, moist with tears and begged to keep trying. What was I to do? We kept at it for about another hour.
Eventually we low crawled about 50 yards through some tall grass, cactus, cow pies and yucca plants up to the fence line.
The hens fed past us and the toms were in line. My son said he was uncomfortable making the shot going from a prone position to knees. I said their coming, you better decide. He passed and asked me to shoot.
As the tom came into view it was one of those automatic moments we have and the next thing I know there's a ball of feathers in the field and about a dozen turkeys running the other way.
My 10 y.o. son (at the time) pushed me farther than I thought I or he could go. We still talk about that hunt to this day.
-Jeremy :coffee:
Here's a bear tale....
Sitting at a bait in September on my land, I hear, then see a bear approaching. From it's gait I recognize the 3 legged sow we had come to know over about 8 years of hunts. She moved around my tree and started down a steep rocky step. She stopped momentarily and checked her back trail. She moved downhill and I could see her turn into a thick patch of raspberry bushes. She wasn't eating.. seemed to be waiting for something.
I then heard something else coming along her approach path. It was a big Coyote. It was moving along with it's nose to the ground, pausing occasionally to look ahead. It was clear now that the bear knew she was being tracked. Maybe her limp had encouraged the dog to investigate a possible easy/easier meal. The coyote continued to follow, the bear waited...
I watched in fascination as the sow, with a 'woof', bolted in ambush from the brush nearly catching the yote. She chased him out of earshot! Never seen a 3 legged bear move so fast! Probably the most incredible thing I ever witnessed in the wild.
Great stories Terry. That's publishing material!
2 years ago.....................
I got 37 stitches and 9 staples from a bobcat attack yesterday. I was coyote hunting about an hour before dark. I was sitting against a tree fully camoflaged using a distressed rabbit call when I heard something walking behind me. I thought it was a coyote so I just got real still. Well I guess he thought I was a rabbit, too. I couldn't see around the tree and neither could he. I made a little squeak and the next thing I knew I felt his claws tear into my shoulder and forearm. I guess he thought he had an easy meal. When he realized what I was he tried to run off. I shot him in the hind-end at about 35 yards. That must have pissed him off because he charged me again. When he got to me, he clamped down on my leg. I couldn't shake him loose and he was too close to shoot. He just kept shaking his head and pulling and pulling on my leg...just like I'm doing yours right now. LOL
A little humor between "GREAT" stories......
I have many memorable hunts which boils down to all of them. No I'm not going to tell you all of them,but this one comes to mind . It took place about 40 years ago, I took my oldest son with me on a back yard bow hunt for deer Bill was about 3 maybe 4 yrs old,we climed a tree I wasn't using tree stands yet. After sitting for a short while a red fox came by, my son did not move until the fox had moved on but the best was yet to come. Shortly there after a small doe ( what we would call a skipper) presented me with a broad side shot at about ten yards I let her pass,all the while Bill remained motionless. When she was long gone Bill turned to me and asked me why I didn't shoot it? I said that it was too small ,he looked at me with bulging eyes and said,NO DADDY IT WAS BIG!!!!!!!!!!!!!
These are great!!! I'm still catching up!!
Hey Dick, looks like that was the start of something!! They're ALL big when your that small!!!! Good Stuff!!!
This got me to thinking about the time I was bowfishing in some backwaters of Pathfinder Reservoir in Wyoming. I was about thigh deep when who swims up but a prairie rattler. I don't think he was 'charging', but he was swimming right for me, to the point that I kept backing up. Maybe he thought I was an island, I don't know, but anyhow, after I had pushed him off with the tip of my bow a time or two, I figured enough was enough, and took him out with my fish arrow. I'm just glad it was one buzzworm, not a whole herd.
I lived on Kaw lake in Northern Oklahoma, was up one chilly morning turkey hunting, I roosted a long beard with 11 in beard the night before, I backed into cedar tree that I had trimmed the year before, my osage self bow takes lots of room!, the sun was just coming up and I had heard the Turkeys starting to leave the roost while this lil black capped chickadee was investigating me, he would just hop from branch to branch and look at me finally landing on my cedar arrow!!! he would turn and look at me with one eye, then the other, then bounce down arrow dink!dink! dink! then go through the whole ritual again one eye then the other!! I got so caught up in watching him that I didn't see the Ol Longbeard doing the same thing from 7 yds!!
I try and turn and shoot at Tom and of course he busted me, he had 15 hens and jakes with him and they exploded Like a covey of Quail!! heart pounding experience for me.
LarryDawg
Many years ago I invited a buddy to hunt the Family farm. I had met Casey in College. A tall lanky young man who was quite shy and the nicest guy one could ever meet.
Casey Grew up working his fathers dairy farm and never hunted. I think we were about 22 or so at the time, he took his hunter safety course and this was his first hunt.
Casey was terrible with directions so the first morning I invited him to hunt in a ground blind with me instead of him getting lost trying to find a stand.
It was pitch black and all the stars seemed to be as bright as they could be. I mentioned to him I would like to fill my fall bird tag so if one came in, he should let me know, I would let him shoot at deer if they came in.
Just as it was getting just light a GIANT great horned owl landed a mere feet from us on a low branch.
In Casey's excitement he yelled, "CHARLIEEEE A TURKEYYY SHOOOOT ITT!!" He was so loud, everything in a mile could have heard us.
I laughed and told him it was an owl. It gave out a few soul felt hoots and flew off. We agreed it was an awesome encounter.
Later that morning we put a shot gun in his hands and he killed his first critter. A beautiful Fox squirrel.
It was definitely one of many memorable tales!
I scout a lot during the summer because I need to keep moving to keep my legs working. We have five acres butted up against the Bankhead National Forest, and we have plenty of deer, as well as other critters.
I wear moccasins or some other light shoe, and I was raised by Seminole men to leave no trail and make no sound, or as close as you can get. I was practicing-I'm not as good as those who taught me-and the ground was perfect for doing so, with just a hint of wetness to the earth that let my steps slightly squish. I was crawling through the brush to look at what I thought would be a bedding spot (and therefore something to hunt later that year) when I heard a rustle beside me. I turned just in time to get blasted with dirt by a huge buck in velvet as he ran from me after I had snuck up on him. I could have almost reached out and counted coup on him. He ended up as a fine eight point I'm still chasing-he's smarter than the coyotes and my gun-happy neighbor. Pretty sure he's smarter than me too.
It was 1991 and I was building my own house in my spare time after work. I had already determined there would be little if any hunting time that season. It was the first few days of Nov. and I hadn't made it out any so far. We were building a house for a customer and my business partner decided he would hunt that morning and come to work late. That particular day I took my bow with me to work on the chance I could get a short hunt in after work. Well at lunch time my partner showed up at the work site with news he had shot a buck and needed help dragging him out. He said he had seen a lot of deer that morning, and that they were doing a lot of chasing. We hunted the same farm so I decided that after helping him drag his deer out I would hunt the rest of the day myself. So his deer is out and now he's hunting does and I'm situated in my own stand. It was an unusually cold Nov. being in the single digits, so sitting very long was going to be tough. I had told myself given my limited time to hunt that I would take the first deer that gave me a shot. I had been in the stand for awhile when I seen a doe approaching. I thought here's your chance, pick a spot. I focused on the spot drew and released as she presented me with a shot. The arrow flew true and she took off. I was so focused on the doe that I failed to see the 8pnt buck that was trailing her. I started to kick myself then I thought, no I said whatever deer gave me the opportunity I would take it. I was just happy I had got to take this doe. I waited a few minutes then took up the trail. It was easy to follow with snow and soon I was standing over my doe. I tagged her then headed for the truck to wait for my partner. When I reached a picked bean field on the way back I seen a small 6pnt chasing a doe with a nice 10pnt in tow about 80yrds out. I still had another tag to fill, so I pulled out my grunt call and gave a short grunt thinking there's no chance of calling the 10pnt off the doe but I'd try it anyway. To my surprise the 10 stopped dead in his tracks while the other two kept going. I just slowly slid down behind the only cover between me and him, a thin strip of waist high grass along the edge of the field. So there we were, the buck staring my direction and me trying to look invisible. He just stood there so I gave another grunt. He started my way. Now I'm thinking there's no way he get close enough for a shot.
When he gets about 40yrds from me he stops again, so I give another grunt with my call. He starts circling around and not coming straight in. He eventually steps through the strip of grass that I'm hiding behind and is just standing there broadside. Now there's not a thing between us and I'm looking for him to bolt any second. The shot seems a little long but I feel confident, that if I get the shot off I can make it. I ease up my bow having already nocked an arrow and start my draw. Concentrating on a spot in the center of the kill area, I anchor and release. The buck doesn't move and I watch my arrow go just a little low striking him in the heart. He runs 60yrds then stops to look back and falls over dead. I can't believe my good fortune. After checking to make sure he's down for good I head once again for the truck where my partner is there waiting on me. He say's see any thing? Not only had I filled both tags, but in the 10yrs. I'd been bowhunting that was the biggest buck I'd ever taken.
I hunted a HARD week, the last week of the season, it was absolutely freezing out but I was getting deer action so I kept at it. For three consecutive afternoons a small group of does caught me up in my stand and I adjusted each evening to try and get in to a better position for a shot. On the fourth evening I put on a ghille suit, on top of everything else I had on and went way high in a tree. About a shivering hour before dark three does appeared from the holly brush behind me and started to circle around. The first, and smallest, broke out in front of me first with two bigger ones behind. They had no idea I was there this time. I decided not to wait and drew on the first doe and released. The three of them bounded away stunned and the one I shot at stopped about 30 yards away looking around, flicking her tail. I hung my head in a miss and said good bye to the season when some rustling to my right made me look. The small doe was rubber legging it and flipped over, stone cold expired. I hit her and didn't even know it. My arrow zipped clean through her. I climbed out of my tree in shock and held my first trad deer. I worked for it, and earned it.
Here's another.
We were in Missouri. I was working at the Busch Wildlife Management Area near St. Louis, MO.
My son Kris was 13 years old. We had just moved from Kansas where at that time one had to be 14 to hunt deer.
I had installed a pair of tree stands about 20 yards apart, one on each side of a trail that bordered a small open field. Our first hunt was an evening sit. I laid my favorite hat on the trail (I know ...scent) and when he climbed in the tree I told him to shoot it. He dead-zeroed it. I whispered for him to just do that.
I saw the Button come from behind him. It wasn't on the trail but walked right under his tree and on to the trail. He didn't see it until it popped out between us and stopped very close if not on the spot where he shot the hat.
Yep, he double-lunged that deer. It ran off about 55 yards and dropped under a cedar. He didn't see it drop. I had him stay in the tree 30 minutes. We got down and went through the drills he had done with me before. I watched him track the deer. He almost stepped on it! He has been bowhunting with me since - that was 1992.
From 1991...Wyoming...I was out bowhunting Antelope and Mule deer with my good friends. I was fortunate to take both animals in 5 days. My buddy asked a big favor...take his neighbor's 14 yr old son out on his first Antelope hunt. I agreed...
Now this kid shot a compound and the area he drew BOTH buck and doe tags was 2 miles from home. We had a make shift blind, 500 gallon galvanized water tank that cattle and "Goats" were using and the farthest shot....maybe 22 yds. The rancher said he had quite a few antelope using the water tank.
Picked up the kid, got settled in this hardwood floor blind, coolers etc...I drove back, hid the truck and settled in. No lie...kid opens his cooler and there is 5 sandwiches, 3 oranges, candy bars and a gallon of water :help:
The kid never filled those tags...but Elk and deer hunted with us in '99. Today he is 6'4 and 230 lbs and NOW we can all laugh at that day in the hot sun....
This was a few yrs. ago, my son 25yrs old now was only 9 or 10 at the time. It was his 1st bowfishing adventure. We were looking for carp along back waters of the river. We were maybe 20 to 30 yrds apart. Some small carp were along the edge near my son sucking on the waters surface the way they do. All he could see was their lips. He hollered over to me saying there's fish here, but all I can see is there lips. Not taking my eyes off the water in front of me, I quip back," shootem in the lips" thinking that that will never happen. Next thing I hear is my son yelling " I got one, I got one". I look over and you guessed it, right down the middle. He was holding up his trophy and smiling from ear to ear. We still bow fish together every yr. and this story always comes up.
A few years back I was exploring part of a Game Area near home for a place to hunt after work and sat on a log for a while near a large river-bottom marsh to have a smoke and a swig of water when I hear screeching overhead. It's coming my way, so I kept my eyes trained upward to see what kind of jumbo bird it might be. A few seconds later a pair of mature bald eagles glided just over the trees I was in. Thinking to myself, "Cool, eagles!", I happened to glance to my left and there was a big doe looking up where the birds passed. I shot right over her back at about 10-12 yards when she ducked my arrow.
While following her escape path, I found an eagle feather laying in the leaves. Being a white boy, I brought back a Native friend who can possess feathers and stuff and she took it to her Aunt that makes crafts and ceremonial things for Pow-Wows. It ended up on a bow sleeve/quiver with other cool-looking feathers hanging down.
Pretty neat day that was, I still visit the spot occasionally.