This past weekend, we headed back to the swamps of south Georgia where we had such a great time with Trad Bowhunters of Ga friends the week before. Had been covered up with pigs only to get busted drawing on one herd and the fickle wind giving me up on another. Just couldn't catch up with the other two hogs. What a difference a week makes. 5 of us couldn't find much fresh sign, let alone the critters that made it. Nonetheless, hard to beat stalking the river bottoms of Georgia for 3 days with your stick and string buddies. The Ocmulgee is a beautiful river:
Acorns were everywhere, and we searched the bottoms to sloughs to oxbow lakes for the other white meat.
Seems as if the only successful kills came during the stump shoots at camp.
One the third day, I'd hunted for 4 hours, working from the pines down through the drainages with nothing to show. Even the one shot on a squirrel only netted him a dirt shower from a one inch low Judo point. Late in the morning I reached the banks of the river. I doffed my binos and pack to snack and enjoy the scenery. Maybe even try taking some of those artsy photos of El Cheapo, my homemade longbow.
While checking out the photos I look up to see a deer walking down the sandbar on the other side of the river. I grab the binocs to enjoy the sighting. Turns out to be a 5 point heading for a drink...no, wait. He's wading out into the river - he's coming across! I grabbed the bow and head down stream to cut him off. After less than a 100 yards I hit a steep banked drainage. I figure this is the low spot on the outside bend of the river, he's sure to land here. Nope, he comes up about 35 yards on the other side. I watch him shake off the water and browse for a few minutes and he works toward the slough. Amazingly he comes straight toward me and angles down the bank just over 15 yards away. I'm in good cover with an open shot as he catches a little scent on the fickle breeze. He lifts his nose and checks towards me and then scents the opposite way. The perfect shot. Luckily for him I had only one buck tag left for the year and simply watched with a grin as he turned and headed back the other way. A few minutes later I slipped a Judo on the string and barely missed a leaf where he'd been standing moments before. Nothing left to do but head back to the campfire and share the story of one lucky buck.