Then I head to Illinois. I see some deer, and I'm hunting with the wheelie bow guys. I shot with them on the block target, and I think they were unimpressed, and and felt sorry for me. That's okay, I don't shoot well in front of other people, like a lot of archers I know. A few more shots after they went inside, and I was good to go. Nobody shot a deer that weekend, or took a shot.
The next week, I'm ready to go, and happen to be alone on the property...prime time, and now I am familiar with the stand locations, most of which are terrible for a trad bow. The first morning, Nov 7, I see a doe and fawn at 10 am, and decide to take a risk. There are almost no locations for a N wind, so I sit right by a trail where deer will hopefully travel downwind of me, but close enough they won't wind me at about 15 yds. I am in my climber stand, I needed to make that adjustment for things to work and get right on top of them.
I sleep the day away, only awakening to the Boon and Crocket squirrels that keep waking me up. Shortly after 4 pm, I hear a funny sounding squirrel that turns out to be a really nice buck at 15 yds, on that trail, directly downwind and behind me. Like a lot of guys here, I try to play the wind and keep it simple. Wool, all the way. He doesn't smell me and continues on, passing on my left side.
When he started walking, I grab my bow off the hook, an arrow from the GFA quiver, and frantically, but smoothly, nock an arrow. I ready for the shot, but a moment too late as he passes through the first opening at 17 yds. I couldn't bear to rush the shot. Ohhhh, so close, and perfect. Ugh.