Anyone else ever been afflicted with this? After three years of strictly hunting with the stick and string, I was convinced to go out again with a firearm. I intentionally set out to handicap myself with the smokepole or the Contender. First couple of days, saw some deer too far off to know if they were even legal; but, I enjoyed just seeing them. Then two days ago, as I was in an area that I hunted this fall, I was watching an area that had proved productive and thought I'd turn around and see what else might be happening. There they were, two mature ones probably fifty yards away. They were a lot quicker than I was and all I was able to see were their two white flags as they exited the small woodlot and crossed the open field, and then the roadway into the relative safety of some posted ground.
Well, having hunted this area earlier in the fall, I kind of expected to see some more following the first two. Not two minutes later, there they were working their way through the pines on a direct route to me. Now, I had the proper tags and could have harvested right then and there; but, I couldn't do it. It just wasn't right.
These same five does had passed me three times earlier this year and this time was no exception. I let them pass with in ten yards of me and not a one was alerted as they passed. It was another memorable experience to add to the list that is quickly making this the absolute best hunting season I've ever had. Not one arrow loosed and thank heaven no trigger pulled. Second season comes in the day after Christmas here in Pennsylvania and already I can't wait to get back out.
I guess I'm just a stickbow hunter from now on. I really had a feeling that if the time came and the opportunity presented itself, I really wouldn't want to do take an animal like that anymore. There's just something about the quietness of the arrow that is so much more honorable to me than the EXPLOSION associated with the gun. My father before he passed away, was able to hunt the family property one last time and when he returned with his rifle in hand he said to my sister "That's it, I can't do this anymore." He put down the rifle for the last time and never went out again. For me, that said a whole lot more than the words that were spoken. Now I'm truly an archer.