I had told Mudd before I sent him a picture I was a lurker and not a poster, but because of all the kind congratulatory wishes, I'll share a little of the story.
I was shooting a Northern Mist Classic, 68",48#, with cedar arrows and 160gr. Ribtec heads.
What made this hunt so special wasn't that I killed this buck - although I'm very thankful for it, but it was the circumstances surrounding it that made it so memorable.
I killed it on the last day of our annual deer camp in November. A handful of as fine a group of hunting archers as you could ask for gather near Salisbury each year. Included in the group are two excelent archers from England. This year we were seeing a few deer, but things just never came together for us.
However, the last morning was one of those story book mornings. Cold, frosty, and still. The woods in the place I was set up was fairly open, and you could see a long ways. The leaves were at nearly peak color, and with the rising sun, it was glowing yelow.
I saw this buck coming, and I readied for the shot, but at about 25 yards he turnd to my left and went to the edge of the woods and stopped to look across the field. As he stood there in the yellow woods, with the sun behind him shining through the steam of his breath it was a stunning sight.
I tried grunting to him with my voice, and he turned his head to look my way. I grunted two more times with my voice, and he turned and walked by me at 9 yards. At the shot he turned to run, and I saw that it was a good hit. He ran, as Balding Eagle said, across a marsh and toward a road.
To make the morning even more special, one of my British friends shot a deer at almost the exact same time. We waited until the whole camp could gather and trail both the deer. Sorry for the long post, but you asked for the story, and I had to share why it was so special for me.