With my bow up and ready I slowly turn to follow her movement. I’ve stepped out to the far edge of the platform to allow the elbow of my string arm plenty of space to miss the stand tree’s trunk and I could only hope the harness tether would not interfere with my elbow when I draw. The wind was holding steady out of the west and the smaller doe was directly to the south of the stand. My heart was racing! Showtime was just about on top of me! The larger doe stepped out from behind a tree that was covering her vitals where she stopped slightly quartering away at 10 yds. and the predator in me screamed NOW! All systems say GO! Bending at the waist, I feel the pressure of the string increase in the creases of my string fingers. All my focus is on the point where I have mentally drawn a line through the doe’s chest to the elbow on her opposite side. I feel the newly purchased leather glove touch the corner of my mouth and the first joint of my thumb hook behind my jaw and with that the mental trigger release has been hit and I relaxed my string fingers.
With the release 56# of bow weight that I had pulled back rips from the split fingered grip that I had on the Morrison, Dakota longbow bowstring allowing the string and white fletched Carbon Express, Heritage 250 arrow to lurch forward. In a blur the entire arrow disappears into her smooth brown coat. The thump of the bowstring is masked by the sudden eruption of the rustling dry leaves and the breaking of deadfall as the doe uses her last seconds of energy to violently explode to the west out of the timber. Short of large tree trunks, nothing in her path is safe of being mowed over. In just milliseconds she has busted out of the timber and into the CRP field. Upon breaking through the tree line she makes an aggressive break south all the while continuing her hard low to the ground run. I follow her movement and catch the last of her broken form through the twisted maze of vegetation that makes up the southwest corner of this block of timber. In the morning sunlight that illuminates the CRP field I see a flash of white and some sporadic movement and I say in a low whisper “she’s down!”
Shaking from the adrenalin rush I slowly slip my phone from the pack that is hanging from the subordinate trunk of the stand tree and awkwardly text Chris “Doe shot! Another doe still near
Topic: Miss October (Read 832 times)
