I own a good treestand, and I'll sit in it, if I have to. But it's my least favorite way to hunt deer. I love to get down "Among 'em"...
My friend, Paul Jalon (Elite arrows) says, "If Mother Nature offers a kiss, only a fool won't pucker up!"
I'm beginning to think he may be right. The second week of October, I had an opportunity to shoot a nice doe, broadside at about 20 yards. I hunt deer, and not horns, and I surely would have put her in the freezer, but she had a small fawn with her. The cute little rascal was just out of spots and dumb as a post. I knew if I shot her, he probably wouldn't make the Winter, so I let them walk. I Must have insulted Mom Nature by passing on her gift.
Having recieved a reprieve from work this morning, I was determined to go. No matter that it was raining and windy. The Red Gods must be served.
I put on my MTO-50 raingear and Muck boots, grabbed the recurve, and took off. At 7AM, I was oozing along a dry creek bed, still too dark to shoot, constantly amazed at how much noise a fat man in rubber boots can make, and how the expensive raingear that sounds fine in the kitchen at 6AM, suddenly sounds like a cheap shower curtain in the woods with a wind.
I came to a narrow spot where a picked cornfield joined a small bluff that fell down to the creek. I climbed up out of the creek and leaned against a little arm-sized tree with the hope of glassing a deer out in the field. I had just done a quick scan and put the glass back in my pocket, took 10 or 15 steps, when I noticed the Gray back of a deer behind a fallen log, maybe 25 yards ahead. I immediately knelt down in the weeds. Rewind to where I compared the rain pants to a shower curtain. The deer heard me and stood up. He was about 20 yards, but the vitals were behind the log. He decided to investigate and stepped out-looking right at me. He knew I wasn't Kosher, but couldn't decide what to make of me.
I eased an arrow out of the side quiver and onto the string.....
The deer stood facing me. His rack was ample and well out past his ears. He had seen more than a few winters. I hoped he couldn't hear my heart beating--I sure could!......I became a statue.
And then things got stupid.
He came closer.
He eased around trying to catch my wind, but the bluff on one side and the creek on the other kept him from it. He did the usual stomping, head bob, and the fake look away with a quick "gotcha!"........I am like a nervous statue.
And then he came closer.
About 7 yards separate us now. He still has his front to me, and is watching me like you'd watch your young daughter's boyfriend. I have been squatted down here for maybe 10 minutes now, and my old body is beginning to quiver...I am like a statue in an earthquake.
And he comes closer!
I know the Jig is up. Even with the wind against him, that bloodhound nose will make me out any second. I could try for a frontal heart shot, but I've been in the game way too long for that.
At maybe 5 yards, I looked up into his eyes and said "You Win!" and he turned inside out and was gone, leaving me laughing in the rain like an idiot.
Folks, THAT'S WHY I LIKE TO HUNT ON THE GROUND!
Topic: Ground hunting (Read 866 times)
