I haven't posted much here on Tradgang lately, this is the first since it got it's new look, mainly because I haven't had anything worthy of a typed out tale to tell. No out of state hunts. Nothing extraordinary on the buck front. Got off the bow-only kick I had been on for a couple years... I missed gun huntin. I like guns. And shooting. And hunting and killing stuff and eating it, with guns. And then, 2018 happened!! lol (wasn't that extraordinary, especially compared to some of you guys, but, it is a pretty good story, and I wanted to write it all down while it's all still pretty fresh in my ever dwindling feeble mind...) hope you enjoy.
This story has three main threads that weave together over the course of 50 years, geez that sounds old, half a century, doesn't seem possible, starting in, of course 1968. This part alone I could write a full chapter but I'll condense it way down. So, it's 1968. 1968. Man, there was a lot of stuff going on that year. I'm 12, living in rural NJ, saving up my pennies and dimes, wearing out the pages of the current Bear Archery catalog, (I wanted a 56" Grizzly, and for some reason I was fixated on 43#), when, by mid summer the magical number of dollars, ($50 something?? can't remember) had finally been accrued . I call up the closest official dealer and he has, on the rack, a 56" 43# Grizzly!! It was meant to be.
But, I never killed anything with it, and by 1971 the honeymoon was over, and I sold it. Bought a 60" 56# Browning Nomad II. Then a couple compounds, back to Trad, back to compounds, back to Trad again, for the final time lol, and I begain to wonder what happened to Ol' Grizz... and through a chain of miraculous events... I was able to buy him back!!!!! Straighted his bottom limb out, tuned him up and took him hunting in 2006. I was out to kill a deer with this bow, any deer, and on Friday October 13, bam.
I retired him after that.
Then in the fall of '17 I'm in tree one day and I realize next year is going to be the 50th anniverary, and I thought, "Man I ought to shake the dust off Ol' Grizz and take him hunting again, who knows maybe I'll shoot a 10 pointer this time". So I got a dozen tapered cedar shafts, did em all up, came out the perfect weight with Bear Razorheads from my original stock from the 70's, and I was ready to rock! Well maybe reminice. ha Ended up being a good thing that I had set-up a lightweight bow, because by November of '18 it was all I could do to pull it back.
Yeah, I guess this is my version of a Public Service Message. I'll try to make it brief. I went for a physical in the fall of '13, had a PSA of 4.4, Dr recomends seeing a specialst. I do what any redblooded, hospital fearing, hillbilly would do, I google it, weigh out my options, and decide not to see the specialist. Or any Doctor. For 4 years. There's a history of heart issues in my family, my Dad, my older brother had open heart surgery June of '17, and mine was "acting up" more and more, it would just go into overdrive, sometimes for hours, my chest would hurt the next day. So, I had a physical September '17, and found out my heart was fine, but that extra quart of coffee I was drinking everyday had to go!! haha Bad news was my PSA was 9.9, 6 months later 11.7. Had a radical laparoscopic prostatectomy done at Memorial Sloane Kettering in NYC on October 5, 2018. And again, I know there's some out there that this sounds like a piece of cake compared to what you've gone through, but for this Boy... ow, it was a whole lotta suck. Everything is good now. After they do this to you they put you on light duty for 8 weeks, not supposed to pick up anything over 5 pounds. Yeah right. 12 days after surgery I go to my first follow-up appointment and specifically ask if I can shoot my bow. No. Couple days later I'm testing the waters right inside the house, putting a bag target at the end of the hall, I'm daydreaming of that 10 pointer I'm going to shoot. I am going hunting. I have never needed a buck so bad.
By the beginning of November I have a lot of my strength back, and I am chomping at the bit, couple days of rainy weather and it looks like Wed the 7th is going to be a perfect morning. I had put a stand up and cut a couple deer trails around it in September. Walking in the batteries go dead in my light. At the base of the tree I realize I don't have a pull-up rope for my bow. Miraculously I get in without killing myself and immediately hear something behind me? It's dark and my hearing, well let's just say it ain't what was when this story started... but I'm hearing something I can't identify and as the morning brightness starts to light up my surroundings I discover the noise I'm hearing is a doe munching on acorns about 15 yards away. Why she didn't spook I'll never know. When she was done she walked out one of the trails I had cut and went down the hill out of sight. An hour later I saw a 7 pointer cruising the same flat I'm on about a 100 yards away and leaving. I thought to myself, "He'll be back". An hour after that I see antler tips out in front of me and I figure it's him and I'm going to kill him. He breaks into the open, traveling parallel to me at 40 yards, leaving me, so I mouth grunt to him, and he turns and comes right down the trail the doe had left on 2 hours earlier. When he's about 25 yards out and coming strong, I realize it's not the 7, it's a 10 pointer! I have to let him walk past me bit and when he goes behind a big oak I draw and he needs to take 2 steps to clear the spice bush so I can put one through his ribs and..... he stops at one step! I'm at full draw about 12 feet up in big Tulip poplar and the only thing separating us is 12 yards of air and a couple spindly leafless branches!! ahhhh I thought at first he sensed I was there. Heard me draw. Picked something up in his peripheral vision. Reflecting back, I think he was just looking and not seeing the deer he thought he heard. I s-l-o-w-l-y ease down to half draw, but it's still killing me. I'm studying those branches, "I can probably get it past them", but I hold on and he finally takes the step. I draw back to anchor and release, pow, blood spurts and in 50 yards he's starting to stumble, "I just killed a 10 pointer", what a gift.
Topic: Perfect Gift for my Golden Anniverary of Bowhunting (Read 3293 times)
