If you sent 4 PBS'rs to Iowa in early November, buck tags in hand, on one of the finest whitetail properties I've ever seen, odds generally would not be good for the deer.
But as I sit in the predawn light with a setting full moon at my back on the final morning of our hunt all tags are still intact. Who would have thunk it?
We still have a day, so it's not over until the fat lady sings, but the end is staring us in the face. Yet it has easily been the highlight of my whitetail bowhunting career.
Successful days were measured in terms of number of bucks seen per day. If you didn't hit double digits it was a bad day , and the good days far outnumbered the bad. My personal high was a 17 buck day. I didn't keep track of the number of bucks well within bow range that were passed up, many of which would have found themselves wearing a tag had we been hunting anywhere else. And multiple oh so close encounters with jaw dropping bucks were had by all. This is as good as it gets when it comes to deer hunting.
We all could have shot bucks we would have been happy with but chose to savor this while waiting on the buck of our dreams. So far, we still wait. We all had shots at good deer and for one reason or another, we each blew it. The excuses vary, but to a man, there are no regrets other than the fact that as I sit here a great hunt with great friends is nearing the end.
But it's not over quite yet. Maybe, just maybe, one of us can finish this off in fine style yet today. Either way, I'll drive home fully satisfied.
Topic: Off to Iowa (Read 1480 times)
