right place at right time
Nov 16, 2011 14:19:30 GMT -5
Post by dougedwards on Nov 16, 2011 14:19:30 GMT -5
Been a pretty uneventful year with me seeing only small bucks and does so far. Went to a military facility to bow hunt and my favorite area was finally open to hunt. I decided to take a stand close to the road as I have seen deer cross at that point. At first light I had turkeys all around me. yelp-yelp-yelp-gobblewobblewobble-yelp-yelp-yelp. Turkey season went out last Friday and these were the first turkeys that I had seen all season. Pretty typical of the year I was having up to that point.
I decided to get down from the stand at 9:30 am and walk about 800 yards further into a swamp area that I had hunted last year. I wasn't sure how much water might be in the swamp and didn't want to discover that fact in the pre-morning darkness or this swamp would have been my first choice. I managed to make it to my tree in the swamp as deer were blowing at me. I climbed my Summit about 28 feet up in the tree and look to see a nice buck chasing does in the water about 70 yards from me. He was walking around spitting and huffing like he was mad at the world. All the while this same doe continued to blow at me but the buck paid no mind to her warning. He had other things on his mind.
Finally the does moved through and out of the water and proceeded up a hill on the far side. The buck was still spitting over and over again and then made a mad dash splashing water everywhere as he continued to chase the does.
Oh well......that was a great sight to see. I was in my tree stand thinking that if I had been hunting with my muzzle loader that buck would have been down but then I would have missed all the interaction between the mad as hell buck and his playmates. That is the cool thing about bow hunting.
About 15 minutes later here comes mister ticked off buck still spitting and huffing and scanning the area for attractive smells about 50 yards from me. He evidently had little concern for how much noise he was making. I stood up with bow in hand watching him scouring about until he got within 30 yards of me standing broadside. As I drew on him he turned and quickly walked almost directly toward me then turned slightly away. Still holding I stopped him with a vocal bleat and he looked like he was about to bolt. I let it go with my pin focused low on a point rearward of the front shoulder but the arrow entered high through the neck region as he squatted to run. I could see the lighted nock still shining as it was sticking out about 5 inches.
At this point this monster acted like he wanted to fight somebody as he stomped around looking in every direction with the arrow still sticking out of his back. Finally he blew and trotted off directly away from me into pines and up a hill. I could see him meandering back and forth like he was looking for something and when he was out of sight I heard him rolling in the leaves. I wasn't sure if this brute was just trying to get the arrow out of his back or if he in fact did fall from lack of oxygen.
I sat there in my stand for two hours before getting down to take a look. There was no blood to be found anywhere and I began to chastise myself for taking a less than adequate shot angle. I then walked over to the last place that I had seen him and scanned that area and no buck was to be found. On my way back I glanced down toward a ditch and there this behemoth was laying with his head in the ditch with no white showing from his body as his tail was tucked. Not a trophy buck at all with two long tines on each side splitting into a two inch crab claw but a very nice and satisfying bow kill. Two feelings overtook me. First was joy and then I remembered that I was hunting by myself and would have to drag this giant animal the better part of a mile through swamp foliage, briars, blown down trees and across two creeks.
All in all it was worth it as I took the rest of the day to get him out after I downed two large bottles of gator aid. Rigormortis had set in and his legs were very stiff and in the end I wish that I had just cut them off. After gutting the animal I did see that the 125 gr Magnus Buzzcut did it's job as I do believe that an artery was severed somewhere but the heart was not touched.
In the end I reminded myself of what someone had told me as a response to my expression of experiencing a frustrating start of the season. He said " The whole season can be made by just once being at the right place at the right time". Truer words have never been spoken and I am reminded that the failures make the successes so much more appealing.
I decided to get down from the stand at 9:30 am and walk about 800 yards further into a swamp area that I had hunted last year. I wasn't sure how much water might be in the swamp and didn't want to discover that fact in the pre-morning darkness or this swamp would have been my first choice. I managed to make it to my tree in the swamp as deer were blowing at me. I climbed my Summit about 28 feet up in the tree and look to see a nice buck chasing does in the water about 70 yards from me. He was walking around spitting and huffing like he was mad at the world. All the while this same doe continued to blow at me but the buck paid no mind to her warning. He had other things on his mind.
Finally the does moved through and out of the water and proceeded up a hill on the far side. The buck was still spitting over and over again and then made a mad dash splashing water everywhere as he continued to chase the does.
Oh well......that was a great sight to see. I was in my tree stand thinking that if I had been hunting with my muzzle loader that buck would have been down but then I would have missed all the interaction between the mad as hell buck and his playmates. That is the cool thing about bow hunting.
About 15 minutes later here comes mister ticked off buck still spitting and huffing and scanning the area for attractive smells about 50 yards from me. He evidently had little concern for how much noise he was making. I stood up with bow in hand watching him scouring about until he got within 30 yards of me standing broadside. As I drew on him he turned and quickly walked almost directly toward me then turned slightly away. Still holding I stopped him with a vocal bleat and he looked like he was about to bolt. I let it go with my pin focused low on a point rearward of the front shoulder but the arrow entered high through the neck region as he squatted to run. I could see the lighted nock still shining as it was sticking out about 5 inches.
At this point this monster acted like he wanted to fight somebody as he stomped around looking in every direction with the arrow still sticking out of his back. Finally he blew and trotted off directly away from me into pines and up a hill. I could see him meandering back and forth like he was looking for something and when he was out of sight I heard him rolling in the leaves. I wasn't sure if this brute was just trying to get the arrow out of his back or if he in fact did fall from lack of oxygen.
I sat there in my stand for two hours before getting down to take a look. There was no blood to be found anywhere and I began to chastise myself for taking a less than adequate shot angle. I then walked over to the last place that I had seen him and scanned that area and no buck was to be found. On my way back I glanced down toward a ditch and there this behemoth was laying with his head in the ditch with no white showing from his body as his tail was tucked. Not a trophy buck at all with two long tines on each side splitting into a two inch crab claw but a very nice and satisfying bow kill. Two feelings overtook me. First was joy and then I remembered that I was hunting by myself and would have to drag this giant animal the better part of a mile through swamp foliage, briars, blown down trees and across two creeks.
All in all it was worth it as I took the rest of the day to get him out after I downed two large bottles of gator aid. Rigormortis had set in and his legs were very stiff and in the end I wish that I had just cut them off. After gutting the animal I did see that the 125 gr Magnus Buzzcut did it's job as I do believe that an artery was severed somewhere but the heart was not touched.
In the end I reminded myself of what someone had told me as a response to my expression of experiencing a frustrating start of the season. He said " The whole season can be made by just once being at the right place at the right time". Truer words have never been spoken and I am reminded that the failures make the successes so much more appealing.