First Traditional Harvest

[Whip]

What is the story behind your first traditional harvest?  Tom Colstad, the editor of the new Traditional Archers World magazine, is planning to do a series with stories of first traditional harvests and he would like to use a selection of stories from Trad Gang members.  

Share your stories here and post photos if you have them. Whether the stories are long or short, big game or small, I think they'll make for some interesting reading.

I'll start.

[Whip]

Like many bowhunters today, my first bow came with wheels on the end of the limbs.  At the time they were about the only thing being sold in the stores and archery shops that I knew of.  If there were traditional bows in those shops they must have been stuck in a back corner somewhere – I sure don’t remember them.
   
In the mid 1980’s I read an article about how some people were still using the old recurves and longbows.  I noticed some advertisements, and sent away for information.  The seed had been planted, and was beginning to sprout.  
   
I looked at Black Widows and Brackenbury’s, but ultimately settled on a bow from Bighorn Bowhunting Company.  They made a less expensive version of their recurve called the Colorado Bighorn.  Not quite as pretty, but a very functional bow.  While waiting for my bow to be built I pulled out an old recurve from my youth and began practicing daily with the little thirty pound bow.  It was light, and wouldn’t be the same as the “custom” I had on order, but it did provide an opportunity to work on technique and form.
   
I had a bear hunt in Ontario planned for that fall with a group of friends, and figured that would be a perfect place to start my traditional hunting career.  Controlled conditions and close shots were tailor made for my limited skills.  The Bighorn arrived in early summer, and I worked daily on becoming reasonably proficient with it.  I loved the smooth lines, and the silent delivery of the arrow.  Just shooting at a target was fun again, and I couldn’t wait for September!
   
About two weeks before we were scheduled to leave I took the bow out for a practice session.  Reaching full draw I heard an awful crack, and the bow jumped out of my hands.  The upper limb had delaminated - I was devastated!  
   
I made a phone call to Bighorn, hoping beyond hope that they might be able to build a new set of limbs in time for my hunt.  The lady who answered the phone told me that everyone else was out on a hunting trip.  But she did offer to look around the shop and see if there was anything close to my weight that might work.   A few hours later, she called to tell me she had found a set of limbs, but they were longer, lighter weight, and were from a different model bow so the wood would not match.   But I was welcome to use them and they would build me a new set later.  I was back in business!
   
Our bear hunt was to take place on the Aulneau Peninsula in Lake of The Woods, Ontario.  We brought our own bait, and did everything ourselves.  On the sixth night of the trip I had two small bears come in and they spent most of the evening entertaining me.  Shortly before dark, the small bears suddenly woofed and vanished into the bush.  A larger bear walked in and as it reached the bait I sent an arrow on its way.  The shot was high, hitting the spine and dropping the bear in its tracks.  A quick follow up shot put a quick end to it, and I had my first traditional trophy!

 

[Whip]

Holy Cow!   :eek:   I feel like Charlie Lamb or something posting pictures of some young looking fellow claiming to be me!  :p

[4runr]

Very cool start Joe!

[JC]

Holy smokes! Who's the young guy with the squirrel on his lip??!!??      :eek:          

I can't recollect my first trad harvest exactly. I do believe I was about 7-8, it was from an old lemonwood longbow I'm sure. I'll bet the arrow was a dowel shaft, the "broadhead" was cut out of a paint can lid with snips and filed to (less than) razor sharpness; practical for a kid however because it wasn't "bad" enough to get you whooped when an arrow went astray and it could be easily pounded back straight after connecting with a rabbit that had somehow materialized itself into a rock as "big game" so often did in my youth. It was probably glued with something and tied on using a spool of heavy red thread I stole out of my grandmother's sewing table. Feathers were chicken feathers and tied on two-fletch like my great grandfather and grandfather had shown me. Nock was whittled using something or another, more than likely a chainsaw file. No pictures, save for the ones in my head.  I can vividly recall looking at that arrow as a supreme instrument of death...the shimmering "edge" of the head that spoke to a young man of the sharpness he had seen on his mentor's pocket knife, the glow of the bright red thread haphazardly wound in abundance around the broadhead...the acidic smell of chicken feathers scrounged from the floor of the coop...it's all just  as vivid in my mind as if it were in my hands yesterday .

I'll bet it was some bullfrog around the pond or a rabbit at the edge of the woodline. I don't recall the exact moment myself, but my grandmother says she remembers I often came running with a bloody critter in my hand hollerin "I got one! I GOT ONE!" to show my heros. I do remember having to go look for the bow and arrow that were cast aside in the ecstasy that was the culmination of a lucky stalk followed by an even luckier shot.

I eventually "graduated" to a compound and a gun, but found my way back to the light in search of what originally started me on my journey.  The connection I have with my stickbow resurrects that freedom and innocence I had as a child, so effortlessly and completely washing away for a time the heavy cares of our adult world that now moves at a pace far beyond our wildest nightmares.

Thanks Joe...good thread...brought a smile to my face while reminiscing.      

[tarponnut]

My first trad harvest was a cottontail rabbit about thirty years ago.I had spotted a bunny feeding on clover at about 25 yards. Without thinking I drew back and shot,the arrow hit it in the eye and came out the opposite ear. It jumped 5 feet straight up and fell dead.
I thought my friend Dave's
eyes were going to pop out of his head
(mine probably looked the same). After a horrible field dressing job we took it home and grilled it up Jeremiah Johnson style.
A lot of my small game harvests have remained clearer and more vivid in my memory than many of my big game kills.
I still have the Bear Black Bear 40# recurve.
I bought it for $37,I was $3 short and the clerk said "good hunting" and I was on my way.

[**DONOTDELETE**]

My first trad kill came back in 2005 on opening day of the New Jersey Fall Bow season. I started with a wheelie bow back in 2002, Six months after I had Heart surgery. For 2 years of hunting with the wheelie bow I need to fill a black hole and Traditional gear was the answer. I have always had a love for the old style bows & wooden arrows. Came January 2004 I got my first Trad bow. It was an old Bear T/D hunter. I was shooting it every chance I got, Till I heard the cracking sound. I found out it was a crack in the riser from top to bottom. I then went to a shop called "Stick & String" and talked to the owner about this bow. I ended up getting an Original 54" Shrew bow. This was at the end of the 2004/2005 hunting season. Shooting thru the summer and getting better at it.

I still had my wheelie bow but took the Shrew out on Opening Day Sept 10th 2005. Around 6:00 am on that fine day I had a small buck 10 yards from me eating some acorns on the ground as a DOE ( Must take a DOE first.... Jersey Law). She was eating also and this went on for about 20 minutes or so. At 6:35 am She gave me a nice broadside angle. I was in my ladder stand 15 feet up a tree. I stood, then drew my bow, I came to anchor Then loosed the arrow. It flew straight hitting the DOE just behind the front leg and pushed thru to the other side. I didn't get a pass thru, but it did get the job done. She only went 20 yards and Dropped.

A few years later I took my first Buck with the Shrew.
 
He wasn't a big Buck, but he was my first with the Traditional Bow. Now in 2008 I got the awesome first. The First deer taken with a Bow I made Myself.
  November 4, 2008 at 7:45am - I had a deer 15 yards from my stand, I draw my selfbow back and loosed an arrow. 20 yards of running and the deer dropped. My self bow is of red oak 70" N2N 51#@24". I was using birch shaft 28.5" BOP w/160grn Snuffer. The arrow has a self nock cut in and three 4" hybrid nana cut wrapped fletchings.

Archery has become more then just a sport to me. Just like Hunting it is a part of my Life. I feel more at home in the woods, or at a target range with friends. I haven't had the feeling for firearms anymore, but I do like to hear a good bang now & then. I have sold the Shrew a few months ago to give the Spirit/ Mojo to someone else that can use it. To me this is passing on the Spirit of the Arrow, The Hunt and the Love for Nature. I know that there will be more firsts when it comes to hunting with Stick & String. I'll be waiting for all them.

I show people the video of My first hunt & the recovery video of my Buck, Both with Traditional Bow & arrows. People can't believe I hunt and take game with My bows. But I tell them.. They worked 1,000's of years before me & will work a 1,000 more after I'm gone.

I hope these stories & pic's helps others to see that Stick & string isn't gone from hunting, but it more You in a way other weapons can't.

[suburbanirma]

Hey guys, this is great!I recently asked readers of TradArchers' World magazine to send me stories of their first traditional harvests so others could see the steps taken to achieve a personal goal. Response has been quite good, and I will include several full-size stores w/pics in the Summer issue (June). Perhaps, I'll include some of the short stories and anecdotes from this thread (with permission from the authors, of course).I'll jump in on this thread, too, and recall that my first archery harvests (back in the 60s, it wasn't traditional yet)were carp, 13-lined ground squirrels and starlings. I was a compound hunter for about 20 years before I saw the light again. It took a couple of years of trying, but I finally took a basket-racked nine-point with a TD recurve I made using Bingham materials. I still occasionally hunt with that bow made about 15 years ago. It fits me.

[wollelybugger]

My first traditional kill was a Six point buck. I was wearing WW2 camo pants and a old WW2 wool sweater. I was sitting on the side of a hill in the grapevines on a stool waiting for daylight. I was using a Jerry Hill longbow that pulled 63 pounds and had a back quiver with four arrows.
  I could hear something about daybreak and could make out the shape of a deer coming down the trail I was sitting next to. As the deer got closer I could see he had a rack. I got my bow and myself adjusted and waited. The buck was taking his good old time and getting closer and closer. When he was twenty yards out he seemed to be huge, when he was ten yards from the tip of my arrow he seemed gigantic. He stopped about five yards from me and just stood there looking at me. He turned and I pulled and missed him, shot right over his back, this is at five yards.
  He ran down the hill and stopped with his head behing a tree, he was still only twenty yards away. I pulled another arrow out and shot this one over his back. His head was behind the tree but the rest of his body was open. I pulled another arrow out and again shot over the deer. I only had one arrow left so I pulled back and let her go, and to my surprise I hit the deer, way back in the rump.
  I was really bummed out as I watched the deer run down the hill, then he staggered and fell over dead. I shot him right through the Femoral artery, he died within a minute. I still have his rack over my fireplace, but I  don't tell the story to often.

[Curveman]

What made my first harvest so special was that it was taken while hunting with my friend and mentor Herb Brunelle. I'd purchased a compound when I lived in the city. I became competent with that bow in short order but after breaking my collarbone as well as not encountering any outdoorsmen in the concrete jungle, my interest in archery and bowhunting just as quickly died. 18 years later a salesman I met confessed that he actually went bowhunting and not hiking (as he told the others) on the weekends and awakened in me a dormant interest. It was while waiting for a new compound to come in that I noticed one of “those old wood bows” hanging by all that metal and I asked to shoot it. I bought it having no idea that there was this "traditional" movement and that people actually still took game with these "old stickbows!”

Still knowing few like minded people, (city boy, liberal schools and colleges), I went to my second 3D event. I was walking the course alone when "Herb" turned, introduced himself, and asked me why I was shooting alone. By the end of the day Herb had lent me a better bow and a dozen matched arrows (who knew)?! So this time the journey continued. It was Herb that showed me what sign was, where to put my tree stand, and where the deer were coming out at the end of this cornfield. I shot this doe with the help of a mentor Jeremiah Johnson would be proud to know!

Thank you my friend and God bless!

Steve

Great post Joe!

[straitera]

My first bow was a 35# longbow at age 12 on the farm. Although I had progressed with deadly effeciently to high tech, compounds had completely lost their flavor through the intervening years. 30 years ago, at the Viking Archery target range, I test drove my 75# 68" Proline Saxon straight out the door with a few judos and Bear 2-blade screw-ins. Never been back.

Two weeks later, Thanksgiving weekend, I was camping alone on 1000 acres of private land that belongs to my good friend and golf buddy not 55 miles southeast of beautiful San Antonio, Texas near Yorktown. This was pristine mesquite covered property with big deer, hogs, javes, bobcats, coyotes, rattlesnakes, and a host of other noteworthy birds and small game as well as a very nice creek where we caught fish whenever the mood struck. Even then, I knew I had chanced upon something very special with my new longbow and could't wait for the baptism.

I wandered aimlessly into the woods stillhunting along the way until I came upon a nice looking oak with numerous heavy branches perfect for a comfortable perch. New areas are always suspect; therefore, any advantage depends upon how well you interpret sign. It also helps to be lucky. Deer tracks criss-crossed in many different directions as well as "smaller" deer tracks now and then that I wasn't so sure of. Climbed up 12-15' off the ground and waited.
The winter season had shed most of the leaves from the trees so I had a much clearer view through the woods. Not long afterwards I noticed 2 black blurs quickly heading straight for my tree. These were my first javelinas in the wild. The smaller deer tracks suddenly made sense; yet, it was critically apparent as well, I was out of time. The shot selection was unrehearsed as I raised the bow, drew, concentrated on the moving intersect behind the shoulder, and let fly. The orange aluminum with 2-blade Bear broadhead met its mark to the hair and the hog dropped immediately. I do not remember reloading and let another arrow fly without so much as a thought. It also found home with a perfect heartshot. I was shaking from the exceptionally vivid connection to the origins of my bowhunting past as I sat on the big oak limb and marveled at what had just happened. My heart went out to this impossible creature. I said a prayer of thanks for the oneness with nature, my priceless longbow, and this javelina, my first trad kill.

[GMMAT]

Inspirational, for a fledgling trad shooter, for sure.

I'll add my first, this fall.....OR...if I'm lucky enough to get a shot at a turkey, this spring (and luckier still, to connect!).

I made the decision to go 100% traditional, after turkey season, this year.  But....after sighting in my compound, I felt sorta "dirty".  I don't see me ever picking one up, again.

Keep 'em coming guys.  Great reading for someone like me.

Kudos to you all.......

[Whip]

Wow, this is really great stuff guys!  What stands out in each story is how vivid the recollections are even after many years.  The first is certainly special!

Keep 'em coming, this is wonderful, and like Jeff said, can be a source of inspiration for those who still wait for their own stories to unfold.

[KentuckyTJ]

October 6th 2002 found me sitting on a bucket behind a large downed oak tree on my best buds farm (Lowebow), Thanks brother. Six foot high weeds all around me. The downed tree lay on the up hill side of a very small 1/4 acre foot plot filled with a lush clover mix. The deer were using it daily, morning and evening. The wind was blowing from the plot right through me and I had that jittery feeling that it was about to happen. Three does showed up right at 5:45 pm. They feed around for a while with me peering over the large log searching for the correct opportunity.  Finally two of the does went back into the thicket and the third made her way up to me then started feeding away in the direction the others had exited. At 18 paces and quartering hard away my arm shook as I drew and released.  The large fletchings began to spin toward their mark, never leaving the brown background of hair. In a flash it was over. I didn't hit my anchor point, I didn't pick a spot I remember afterwards wondering how in the world I hit the deer because it was all a blur. When I finally snapped out of my state of euphoria I was standing over my first trad kill.

I remember as if it were yesterday trying to explain to my best buddy (that was also a new trad hunter) the feeling of seeing that big arrow spinning toward its mark, coming from a bow that had only a string and nothing else to aid in the shot. I've heard it called the mystical flight of the arrow and that's exactly what I was trying to relay to my friend that day.  Seeing that sight was the point in time I knew this was the way is should be for me.

     

[jrchambers]

my firs trad harvest,  i was full blown in love with trad hunting, had been for only one year, problem was all i was doing was hunting and no killing, not really a problem but, some friends asked if i wanted to go bunny hunting, of cours i grabed my bow.  well into the hunt every one had killed many rabbits with thier .22s and i hadnt even shot.  in the later part of the evening i was stalking with one of my friends and we spotted a bunny asleep under a tree 20 yards away,  my buddy imediatly pulled up to shoot, then looked at me and then put down his gun.  I wihout hesitation i looked, drew and loosed a woodsman tiped shaft.  it hit its mark, lungs heart liver all in one, wow it didnt even twitch.  my buddy looked at me and just said "you must practice          alot" thats when i realized that the practice really pays off, one shot one kill.  after i recovered my trophy i awed at how those pearly white feathers and cap were now crimson, it imediatly caused and adiction,  since then i have bloodied a few more feathers, the only ones i still have are matted with bunny blood hanging on the wall.

[Friends call me Pac]

I went to some public land on 14 Oct 08 and set up my climber at a creek crossing. I was in the stand about an hour when a wasp stung me just for the fun of it. About an hour went by and all of a sudden I had about 12 wasps buzzing me. It was time to go deer or no deer.

Since I had two hours before dark I decided to leave the climber in the truck and do some scouting. I found a nice trail and leaned up against a tree about 15 yards away.

With about 45 minutes of daylight left I saw this doe coming down the trail. As she got closer she actually left the trail and began going to my right. Not what I was planning and she was only about 5 yards away at one point. For whatever reason she changed her mind and started walking back down the trail again. When she stepped into the exact spot I had picked to shoot a deer if I saw one I drew hit anchor and released. I was standing on the ground and I shot her at about 12 yards.

The arrow passed through and I saw a spray of mist come out from the far shoulder. She took off at a dead run but piled up at 90 yards. It was a very quick death and I am thankful for that.

I was shooting my PSE Impala, 50 lbs @ 28". Arrow was a 2016 and I used a 125 gr 2 blade Magnus.

I want to thank all of you that have helped me accomplish this goal. You folks are the best.

 

[**DONOTDELETE**]

Originally posted by Whip:
Wow, this is really great stuff guys!  What stands out in each story is how vivid the recollections are even after many years.  The first is certainly special!

Keep 'em coming, this is wonderful, and like Jeff said, can be a source of inspiration for those who still wait for their own stories to unfold.

Whip, Your right.. It does & it should. They are the things that keeps us going. Bow in hand and near any of the trees I have taken game.. Its like a flash back, It takes the breath out of me at time. I feel More alive, I feel PEACE. The Meat on my table was just a bounce. The memories are My testament to hard work to my passion & Mainly for the Respect I have for the Game I hunt.

[Ben Maher]

from growing up in a deer hunting 'rifle' family ....one trip away with dad and his mates..me at 12 yrs old with my 45# stemmler "cougar" and away we went. 50 mtres from the car a cedar arrow was launched from my bow at a trotting fox and to the amazement of Dad and his companions...the first animal of the trip was taken. needless to say...the love affair began.

cheers

ben

[JSimon]

My truly first traditional harvest was a carp on the Grand River down the road from my parent's house. I don't remember the exact fish but it was sometime in my teens using my Dad's old all fiberglass bow with a molded rubber handle and an aluminum spool fixed to the limbs with electrical tape. More than a decade later, in 2002, I started bowhunting deer with a compound. That first buck with the compound was awesome! But, every summer I would continue to get that old fiberglass bow out, head down to the same river banks, and hunt the carp harder and harder. Deer season would roll around and the compound just felt funny. By 2006 I was looking for a better bowfishing bow and my Dad gave me an old Ben Pearson Hunter. That bow felt so light, as if it had sprouted right out of the palm of my hand. That same summer I also bought a Quinn Stallion and shot it religiously. At the time, I still wasn't sure if I would ever hunt with the recurve, but I was certainly addicted to shooting it. Then in the fall of 2006, with compound in hand, I grazed a small buck because I couldn't line up my peep site properly in time to make a good shot at a mere 5 yards. It was my first wounded deer and I felt terrible. I thought about that shot for a long time and came to the conclusion that I could have made that shot no problem with my recurve. I made the decision that the following fall I would be hunting with my recurve even if it meant ending the season empty handed. I caught a lot of flak that summer from my compound buddies who just didn't understand at the time.

Below is my original TradGang post from October 10th, 2007 about my first trad deer. By Spring of last year, two of those compound buddies have bought old recurves and I think they are beginning to understand!

October 10, 2007
This is my first year hunting with a recurve and a year of practice has really paid off. Not only did I shoot my first deer with a recurve, but my biggest so far. The funny thing is, I wasn't even planning on going out tonight. I work about 70 miles from where I live, so I usually can only make it out on weekends. Today I had a meeting about 25 miles from work in the general direction of home that got out at 3:00. Rather than head back to the office, I thought I would haul ass back home and head out to the woods. It had been raining all day, but I wasn't going to pass up a chance to get out during the week, so off I went.

Man the deer were moving tonight. I saw a doe with twin button bucks at about 4:30 that I just couldn't quite get a decent shot at, and with it raining I decided I would hold off. They walked off and eventually came back around through the woods. I couldn't hear much with the sprinkling rain, so I didn't see them sneak up on me until it was too late to get into position. After they passed by some trees, I got into better position and saw movement off the corner of my eye from the same direction the doe and button bucks had come. It was a small buck. I told myself before the season started that I just needed to break the ice this year after I got skunked last year and being the first year with the recurve. I decided I would take the shot at the small buck if the opportunity presented itself.

Just as the buck hit my shooting lane broadside I was about to draw back when I saw more movement behind him. This guy followed right behind the small buck and I made a good a shot from about 15 yards. I didn't get a pass through and it looked just a bit high, so I backed out. I thought I heard him crash, but I gave him about 45 minutes before picking up my buddy for the tracking job. On the way out it started raining harder and I was getting pretty nervous. We ended up finding my broken arrow close to the impact and a light blood trail let us right to the buck. He went less than 50 yards and was laying right where I thought I heard him go down.

Being my best buck to date and my first with a recurve, I'm definitely getting him mounted. I just thought I would share my accomplishment that wouldn't have happened without all of the advice I have gotten from this site over past year and a half. Thanks!

 

[Skipmaster1]

For a few years I played with shooting an old longbow I had. I learned to shoot it fairly well and even hunted with it a few times. The first day i hunted with it i missed a huge buck twice at 15yds. The next time I took it out I missed a spike at 8yds. I never really became confident in my shooting and I just fell to peices when a deer was in front of me. I went back to the compound without much thought for a few more years and never looked back.....
Until the spring of '06. My buddy Kris got me interested in shooting traditional gear. It couldn't have happened at a better time in my hunting "journey". I had been looking for a way to expand my experience in the woods and grow as a hunter.
I bought a new 55# Super kodiak and with a little coaching and a lot of pushing me to keep with it, I was on my way. I shot everyday through the summer and by fall I was shooting better than i ever had. Season rolled around and I got cold feet and picked up the compound. I took a few deer but something was missing and I knew deep down what it was...
The pre-dawn darkness of Oct 22nd was cool and clear. I just "had that feeling" that all deer hunters get from time to time. I picked up my Kodiak and jumped in the truck with my buddy, both full of anticipation. we drove the few minutes to a new spot we gained permission on over the summer.
I chose to hunt the upper stand we had hung. It was on the edge of a steep drop off and a heavy trail ran just along the top of the edge. the stand was 22' from the ground but only about 16' above the trail. the trail was only 13yds from the tree and it was a perfect set up for my recurve. I made my way to the stand a little before 5:40am. My excitement was stifled as i heard a large group of deer run off on my short walk to the stand. I climbed up and settled in, hoping at least one deer would wander by after first light.
Dawn broke the darkness around 7am with a perfect wind and temps in the upper 30's. With a front moving in late that afternoon my hopes were still high.
At 9am I watched as a neighbor walked from across the road and into the woodlot I was hunting, not 60yds behind my stand. He did the same thing to my buddy just the week before. we still have no idea why.....needless to say I was cursing under my breath at the trespasser and my excitement disapeared. I watched as he walked back out on the same trail 5 minutes later.
I was ready to give up and call it a morning, but I wasn't meeting my buddy at the truck until 11am, so I figured I might as well wait in the tree instead of the truck.
 Not 5 Minutes go by and i look down the funnel and there is a BIG buck standing there. Heading toward me . The guy had been on the opposite side of me. Sure enough here comes the big guy. He is in the open at 20 yds slightly quartering to me, headed for broadside in my 13yd lane. He comes a bit closer to scent check the small woodlot above me. He pauses at 17yds and turns so he is quartering away, looking like he is going to turn back to where he came from.

Now the whole time I am shaking like crazy. I am having a tough time keeping the arrow on the flipper rest. I'm a frigging mess. i apply some pressure to the string and turn my fingers so the arrow is being pulled against the riser, hopefully holding it on.

He is now slightly quartering away at 17yds. I reach full draw and hit my anchor. I release...........I screwed up and knew it at the shot. i never  held at the bottom of the chest. I aimed center chest,behind his shoulder. I went over the possible shots 100's of time while sitting there and knew that I had to hold at the bottom of the chest for those trails.

The shot went 6" high.........catching him square in the base of the neck, just above the scap. The Razor Shark 125 broke his spine and severed the main artery dropping the 'ol boy in his tracks. I quickly grabbed another arrow and centered his chest with it. Of course the second shot went right where I was aiming. Man I was just so shook up for the first shot..........I got lucky. The left/right was perfect I just had my mind go to mush on the elevation.
 He's down and for good!

He ended up being 6.5 years old and weighed 196#'s dressed. He was a very mature buck and I couldn't have asked for more for my first trad deer. I was so emotional I had to wait for a long time before i could climb down. I wasn't sure whether I was gonna cry or laugh... I think I did a bit of both. Of all the deer I have taken over the years this was the single most moving experince I have ever had in the woods. This one deer changed my outlook on hunting and changed the direction of my journey through life.