So, the plan was to hunt with my brother from the ground on Saturday. On our lease he found a great little spot along a heavily used trail. He had seen several deer in the area pretty much every day for a couple of weeks.
I had been practicing every day with a new-to-me 58" 60# Thunder Stick Mag that I got on here from RM81 a couple months ago. I'd hunted with it several times this season, but never had a shot. My confidence has never been this high with a trad bow. I love this thing.
I got there Saturday morning about 15 minutes late, frustrated by construction traffic in downtown Atlanta, but the woods calmed me down quickly. We eased into the woods with just enough light to see by and we sat down. The spot really was amazing. It was in hardwoods near some short pines and it was surrounded by short brush here and there, a briar patch covering one side, and a few crooked trees that all provided cover that was just enough, but still allowed for some good shots.
About 10 minutes after we sat down, I saw some movement to my left. I realized it was a nice sized deer, but I couldn't see the head. As it came closer I realized it was a young buck. He was moseying down the trail slowly, munching on the acorns that were all over the place. He jumped the barbed wire fence that the trail runs through and took a few steps. He stopped about 12 yards in front of us. I learned later that at this point my brother was telling me to hold on and he would probably come right in front of us broadside, but apparently my ears had shut down. I guess I was "in the zone."
As he looked our way, I was sure he'd spot us. I was just wearing regular camo and a boonie hat with a neck gaitor, while my brother had a leaf jacket and hood on. The wind was blowing toward him, and even though we're both meticulous about scent control, I was still thinking we'd get busted any second, but he just turned his head and looked around like we weren't even there!
He was quartering to me a bit, but I still had a nice shot. I slowly raised my bow, came to anchor, focused on a spot just above and behind the shoulder and let her fly! We heard the arrow hit with a loud pop. He hopped a few yards, then looked back at us like he had no idea what had just happened. Then he just kinda walked straight away from us further down the trail into the woods.
So many thoughts were running through my mind. "Did I miss?" "Surely not; I heard it hit him!" "He wasn't even alarmed!" I looked down at my watch: 7:34. The next couple of hours went by incredibly slowly. I really wanted to see my brother to get one too, since this was his spot, so we waited until about 9:45 to go find the arrow. It was sticking in the ground about 10 feet behind where I hit him. It was covered it blood and it was in perfect condition. The Simmons Land Shark broadhead was still razor sharp.
I started looking for blood, but I found only a few drops here and there a few yards down the trail. The trail crossed another barbed wire fence and led into some short pines. I looked around for more blood in the hardwoods and didn't see any, so we crossed into the pines. My brother has incredible eagle eyes, and almost instantly spotted a white belly about 30 yards or so into the thick pines. As I approached, I started thanking the good Lord that we had found him. I stood for a few moments just taking it in. I couldn't believe it.
I called to my brother and as he came in I gave him a huge hug. We did it! Now it's his turn with his recurve.