This past weekend was my first real opportunity to get out with my new (to me) Kodiak Magnum 48#@28. I had bought the bow from member Jack Shanks and seemed to shoot it well at targets, but had yet to hunt with it. Jack had been kind enough to throw in some camo limb socks just like my Grandad had on his Bear, and I was using Bear Razorheads that had been my Grandfathers. In addition I decided that I wanted to take a deer without camo and wore a Wool Pendelton just like my Dad and Grandpa had worn.
I intially went down to the National Forest only to have my hunt repeatedly interupted by quad runners. Spent some great time with my Old Man and a good friend before heading back home.
After dropping my kid off at school I went out to go sit in a ground blind in a blow down. Even with a slight drizzle and gentle breeze I managed to blow it on a doe while still hunting to my stand. After getting set up I caught movement and got set for a shot, only to realize it wasnt a deer. I normally don't shoot things I don't intend to eat, but this guy had been excavating under several mature maples in our sugarbush and needed to go. I found anchor and the release felt good. He let out a large growl and ran under an adjacent maple. Thinking I had missed I went to retrieve my arrow and found that the arrow had found his mark. I hit right behind the shoulder and paced off the shot at 22yds. Farther than I usually feel comfortable, but it had felt right. What a confidence booster.
By early afternoon, the wind had died down and the precipitation had ended so I snuck up into a stand located about 7' up in an ash on the edge of some pasture area that transitions between two woodlots. I rarely like hunting out in the open, but the area had a lot of sign.
At around 1850 hours I caught movement and saw two yearling skippers feeding down the draw, with a mature doe. She fed past me and upon going behind a osage bush, I drew. She was quartering away when I hit full draw and upon release I saw the full length shaft bury up to the fletching, a little further back than I had wanted.
She ran about forty yds, then stopped looked back and appeared to be totally undistrubed. She then actually began feeding again and walked off with the two yearlings following her. Her reaction caused me two question what I had just seen, but I knew the hit was lethal. As the light was starting to fade, I got down, but was unable to find the arrow or any blood at all in the tall grass.
I backed out and came back a couple hours later after hearing yotes yipping in the area, and began trying to track her. Still finding no blood I began walking the area where I thought I had heard her crash. After ripping myself apart in the briars I finally found her.
Arrow had entered hitting the liver, exiting through the lung. She went about 70yds before expiring. The bloodtrail left something to be desired but Grandpa's old Razorhead worked today like it worked for him all those years ago.
Feels great to have got it done with a Bear bow, with a broadhead that used to rest in my Gramps quiver while wearing a shirt he or Fred would have worn. One happy hunter and a proud Daddy!
Thanks, Jack for the Bear and to all of you on here who motivate me to do it the Traditional Way.