Look what I found in the woods the other night.

[Big Ed]

[ChuckC]

sorry,  It was getting late and I fell asleep at the desk.   zzzzzz  this getting old sucks.

Let's see. . . oh yeah   I remember it like it was just yesterday. .  or the day before..

The wind was from the ENE and blowing well enough I could tell without looking at my wind indicator, a 6" piece of dental floss taped to the inside of my top limb.  The last two inches are frayed to a fuzz and it works very well.  It is also in my face nearly all the time so I can't miss it.

The bottom that I chose to sit has a very well defined trail running down the middle, east to west and I chose a spot just down wind by maybe 12 yards.  It was somewhat between two slight fingers or loaves as I have called them, coming down the drop off and often funneling deer on their way down.

At that location was a blown down top of a white oak that landed just right, with some of the large browned out leaves still hanging from the branches.  I clipped some of the stuff from the uphill side and built a sparse but "just enough" blind on the down hill side.  

My ghillie is brown and instead of yarn-like strings, it is built of patches of cloth that quite resemble leaves.  I guess I dissapeared.

About an hour and a bit before the end of day, I was really cold and thinking about getting up and walking for a bit.  Not a great idea at this time,  but Brrrrrr.  As above, I didn't dress well for this one.   Then   I heard something.

I slowly looked right and there was a small forkie buck, maybe 12-15 yards away, browsing down the drop off into the bottom.  I warmed up pretty quickly, at least for the moment.

Although I am not a trophy hunter, I decided pretty quickly though that I did not want to shoot this one.  It was pretty, but obviously pretty young, its fork antlers were hidden by its ears when he held them forward, and more important to me... let's just say he would have made for an easy drag.

But watching him showed him posturing and looking to his right.  Hmmm  In just a lil bit I saw yet another deer,  obviously another buck, and I decided just as quickly that, yup I would shoot this one if given the opportunity. For this area, this dude was pretty nice.
ChuckC

[D.Sheppard]

When he finishes the story someone call me .   WOW!

[ChuckC]

I gripped my bow just a little tighter.  They were about twelve yards away, feeding obliquely across the hill and it was looking good for them to walk in front of me. . .  if they didn't spook.

Although I love carrying a longbow, one of John McDonald's 66" hybrids, painted, of course,

  :eek:    (Sorry John. .  but I ordered it in all black for a reason..)  on this evening I had my Predator recurve.  I love this bow too, and actually shoot it better than the longbow, but I just have this thing about a longbow,  a love affair I guess.  Don't tell my wife please, although I guess she can see it in my eyes and already knows.

Anyway, I have been dealing with a form of target panic for years.  Premature release whenever my brain tells me to let er go.  On some days I can shoot pretty darned well, and on others. .  not as well.  I like my shots close for that reason.  I put a clicker on the recurve to help me out, hoping that adding another step would keep my mind off releasing for just a little bit more time.  It is working. .  so far.

On the arrow, a GT fairly well suited for that bow set up, was a nicely sharpened VPA Terminator 175 head with a 100 grain adaptor inside the shaft.  Plenty of arrow weight, plenty of bow,  keep on walking.

Well beyond any hopes I had, the forkie walked right in front of me, at one point about 7-8 yards away, working and browsing slowly to that trail just a bit downhill from him.  About 10 yards after him came the bigger buck.

Neither deer saw me, smelled me, intuited me or acted at all concerned. . .  right up to the moment that one of those GT's zipped right thru the big guys chest,  low, a couple inches further back than I was aiming, but angling slightly forward.  I am guessing he was 10 yards away when I shot.

The big guy bounced around the deadfall and it was silent.  I didn't see him or hear him fall, so I sat still as a ghost.

ChuckC

[Can Hahaka]

Wow! Can't wait for the ending! Or, was that it?

[Bigriver]

Im tellin John  :D

[ChuckC]

When I teach Bow Hunter Education here in WI,  we preach. .  "if you don't see it fall,  or hear it fall,  sit tight for 30 minutes, or even more if the shot didn't look great".  Deer will very often run to the first decent cover, then stop and watch its back trail to try to figure out what the heck just happened and to see if it is following them.  If nothing follows, they will bed down nearby and that is where you will find them,  if given enough time for the arrow to work.

That first photo shows where he stood, just 25-30 yards away, hidden from my searching eyes by the big fallen tree.

Meanwhile. .  that darned lil guy first ran off, kinda... then he started sneaing back, just uphill, soon to be just downwind of me.

I watched him sneaking.  No covering leaves on this side of me, it was just me, sitting there in my ghillie suit and a young buck, just scared because of some rucus, and looking for the cause.

Again he came right by me, this time maybe 10-12 yards away.  I never moved, except my head turning slowly to follow him.  He never saw me. . .  but oh boy when he got my wind !  He made a bee line outta there, and I think, caused my buck to move.  The next few photos show the result.

Giggling to myself,  I looked at the watch and kept sitting,  then started shaking, and pretty soon the cold caught up to me and I started shaking pretty violently.  Brrrrrr.

After 30 minutes, I got up and started the the following chore.  As you saw from the pictures, the first 30 yards or so of the trail looked. .  promising.  But unbelievably, after he entered the overgrown field, things changed.

[ChuckC]

It was now dark, very dark.  That little flashlight that the Wensel's distribute is awesome and I slowly followed the trail, marking my way as I went, but, unbelievably, it petered out ! (the blood trail. .  not the flashlight).  I found four different beds along the way, with less and less blood showing.  The beds were only maybe 25 yard apart.  Hmmm what I thought was a gimme, to be found "just ahead", was turning into a problem.

OK, sit and think.  Multiple beds, that means I was bumping him. . .  not dead yet.  Stop and wait.  Only 25 yards apart,  in a fallow field with thick weeds, but still only 3-4 feet tall.  He can't breathe.  He is not gonna survive, but he is not yet dead, and I am bumping him and losing blood.

Get out of there.  I reluctantly called it a night and drove home. .  hopefully to be finished in the morning.

As is typical,  I doubted and found fault with everything I did for the entire drive home.

Why DIDN'T you do this,  why DID you do that ?

It was gonna be a long night

[Ranger75]

Great story.

[metsastaja]

Great tale

[ChuckC]

Morning came. . .  "why the heck is the sun not up yet, it's nearly 7 am already ! ".

I called the office and made it known that I was finally taking a whole day off,  had a chore to do.  My supervisor knows I wait all year for the fall and is actually pretty understanding.  She shakes her head and wishes me luck.

I finally got to the scene and as I approached the field thru the woodlot to the east, I slowed and stopped, surveying the scene.  Art LaHa, a blast from Wisconsin's past, taught me to go slow and watch and listen for the birds.  Often the crows (ravens if far enough north)will find the deer early and be gathering near it, making themselves known to the world, as always.

No crows. .  no obvious signs,  time to get back to it.   I found my last flag.  Got on my hands and knees and really searched.  By that time the trail was only a small drip here and there, and he was obviously bounding across the field.  This was not looking great.  

Finally, after totally losing the blood, I walked back and surveyed the trail markers.  They showed he was headed for the far corner of the field, headed for the swamp.  great. . .

OK, change tactics. I moved about 20 yards to the side of the projected trail and started walking towards that corner, slowly looking all over for beds, broken weeds, anything.  As I approached the corner, which rises a bit to form a slight hill, and which has several smaller oak trees, still holding their browned out leaves, a buck rises up and slowly hops away, into the marsh.   DANG it all !

My optimism just drained away.  There he goes, he isn't dead.  I must have really misjudged where I hit him.  I really screwed this one up.  Maybe I'd better just hang up the bow and watch videos.   Dang it all.

[BeNoIt]

Is it bad that I keep hitting the refresh button to see if Chuck has added the next segment?  

[metsastaja]

the question  Was it the buck he shot?

[ChuckC]

I walked over to where he dissapeared.  The whole time my mind is churning (so was my stomach as a matter of fact).  He had the dark antlers of the buck I shot,  but. . .  I sure thought he was bigger than that.

I walked all the trails. .  after that bounding he must have started bleeding again,  just a drop, a confirming drop of blood.  But there was none.

I saw him pretty well as he bounced away.  I was only 35 yards or so from him and he started out quartering away.  I saw his side really well and I sure didn't see any indication of trauma.

Hmm  I wonder.  What are the odds that another buck bedded down near my buck ?  What if someone up above was up there just giggling away, having thrown me a real curve ball ?

OK. .  keep looking Chuck.  So I continued the search.

Another 40 yards of slow walking and. . . wait what's that ?   A buck. . .  my buck  !  WOOOO Hooo.  I did it right after all.  
 


   

Success !

My shot was nearly exactly as I recalled,  a bit back on entry, a little lower than I wanted, but right in there.  Took out some liver, one lower lung and creased the heart.
 

I have no idea why his trail ended up stopping, except for blocked entry and exit wounds.  He was really fat.  The broadhead did its job.  The arrow flew right through him and lodged in the ground beyond.  He bled very well from the start.

The holes left in the ribcage were impressive triangles with the centers pushed open.  It took a lot to block them.

It ended well, he was still in decent shape when I found him and he is getting parceled up into meat today.

end of story ! (finally)
ChuckC

[BeNoIt]

Great story, very nice buck and a nice shot. Congratulations!

[rice]

Thanks for the story! You put a big smile on my face this morning.
Congrats!

[rastaman]

Way to go sir!      

[ChuckC]

I learned some valuable lessons with this deer, not the least of which is. .  invest in a deer cart. .  didn't think I was gonna make it out of there dragging him.    As I said earlier,  getting old sucks.

Chuck

[Hawkeye]

Good for you, Chuck.  Good hunt, good story!

[Friend]

Wonderful harvest! Your detailed vivid story will serve to imbed itself more firmly such that you may be able to re-live the experience many years from now, if not a lifetime.

Congrats!