Love it when a plan comes together!

[Mudd]

"To have done anything else would have made me feel greedy and that's not something I'd tolerate from myself."

I wouldn't have ever expected anything different coming from you.

But Charlie in the lingo the younger crowd of today it would say.."That's not how I roll."...lol

Just horsing around...old folks gotten make their own fun..lol

Looking forward to your next post.

God bless,Mudd

[kennym]

Great news Charlie!!  Knee pain is a real bummer!!

My new one just stood several days up and down the mountain. I wouldn't have even gone if I didn't have the knee replaced!!

The therapy is about the worst part, but highly important. Prob woulda been easier if I hadn't smashed my knee to begin with.

Now on wif the story man! I gotta get to bed pretty soon!! 5:00 comes early!!

[Cyclic-Rivers]

Good stuff Charlie.

You will find the knee replacement theese days are a peice of cake also considering what they are doing.  

Sounds like a really nice place.  I vaguely remember you posting pictures a few years back of a newly found place. Is this the one?

BTW I'm with Kenny on this one lol.

[Charlie Lamb]

So just as the woods were turning from black to gray and the subtle shades of green were coming on I hooked the tip of my longbow into the haul rope and started up the ladder of my stand.

In short order I was in place and ready. My bow hung on a short limb stub just to my right and the arrow hanging from another beside it.

The woods were quiet except for the light and constant patter of condensation as it fell from the tree tops. The air was cool with a distinct feel of fall that made me pull into my jacket a little deeper and run my hands into the warm space of polar fleece pockets.

I don't think it was much past 7 AM when a slight noise that didn't quite sound like water droplets came to my ears.
Glancing down and to my left the gray/tan form of a deer stood just below me. It was obviously going for the water pocket.

I reached slowly for the bow and without taking my eyes off the little deer (I could now tell that it was a yearling) I got the bow's familiar leather grip in hand and slid the arrow across the bow and onto the string.

I've had deer in that position before and I can tell you that from a sitting position it's a damn near impossible shot.
But it never reached a point where any of that mattered for all of a sudden momma made some unheard sound that called junior to her side.

They stood there behind a screen of leaves and limbs. There were 3 all together now. All bunched up and alert.
The wind seemed non existent, but that's not always a good thing. I would check it later and find that what there was was in my favor. The bit of milkweed fluff I released after they left drifted off slowly in a favorable direction.

Well, I was disappointed. There was no doubt about that. But I'd been at this game too long to let it  bother me all that much.
Years of experience was on my side and I'd done everything as I should have. That made me feel competent and professional.

I put the lower tip of my bow in my haversack hanging beside me and leaned the upper tip against  the trunk in front of me.
Experience once again preparing me for what might come.
It was about that time that I shifted my weight and that moved the bow just a little bit. The razor sharp Simmons Interceptor tipped shaft dropped straight to the ground 12 feet below and buried to it's full length into the moist soil.
So much for the experienced professional angle. Dopey the wonder klutz strikes again.

I contemplated climbing down and getting the arrow but thought better of it and fitting a fresh shaft  to the string I laid the bow across my lap.

[centaur]

Hmmm, must be past the old mud Marine's bedtime. I guess we will have to wait until morning for the finale.  

[Charlie Lamb]

I truly did want to wind this up tonight... but it's been a very busy day. I promise I'll get it done early in the morning. Cause I'm not getting up at the crack of dawn tomorrow.

Centaur... yep time for beddy bye. And I don't even have to stand watch or anything. LOL

Charlie... This is the place I was talking about then.

Sam... yeah, them trees bleed real slow, but they never go far. LOL

Gregg... I'd have never thought this thread would have reached four pages after only posting one sentence.   :D

[Charlie Lamb]

Kenny... hope your elk hunt was a blast. You can be sure that once I figure the timing of the operation so that I don't miss any hunting I'll also be figuring in the time for proper rehab. I know just how important it is.

Who knows? Maybe I'll be able to move fast enough to actually get rid of some of this extra weight that's been piling on over the last several years.

[Mudd]

I love how you spin a tale Charlie.

It's as if we're sitting with you and all of the details of what you're experiencing comes alive on our screen.

Thank you!!

See you right here tomorrow.

God bless,Mudd

[LimBender]

Good stuff - something to read tomorrow. . . .

[Shinken]

 

Shoot straight, Shinken

   

[snakebit40]

[Elkchaser]

     

Rise and shine! Is today the day?

[MnFn]

com' on man! I was hoping to read this with my morning coffee and now I have to go get ready for my semi-retired part-time job without knowing what happened. No fair.
G

[Charlie Lamb]

The woods seemed extra thick this year. I could only see an average of twenty yards in most directions and much less than that in others.

Bright patches of sunlight hit the ridge off to my left as old Sol topped the ridge above me firing shafts of warmth and light toward the bottom of the steep sided holler.

I half considered what the time might be but quickly put those thoughts out of mind. It just didn't matter. I'd sit until I was ready to get down and the time wouldn't be a factor in that decision.

I'd slipped off into that mindless state that's part of stand sitting. You know how it is. At first you are thinking about every little thing ahead of and behind you that interferes with relaxed thought. Then at some point you realize you aren't really thinking of anything at all. The Zen of hunting.

It was then that I heard or sensed something close at hand. Looking quickly down at the trail road a pair of dark antlers bobbed along behind the screening brush.

[TJK68]

Now it is getting good!!!!  

[Charlie Lamb]

A second later the heavily muscled body of the mature buck followed them into the open below me.
He walked confidently through the impossible space below me and behind the tree trunk in front of me.

As the cover hid him from me and me from him I quickly came to my feet, bow ready.
He stopped there at ten yards for a few moments while I anticipated where the shot might come.

Best case was that he would continue straight ahead and present me with a chip shot at 15 yards. Worst case and he could walk directly away from me and out of my life.
He split the difference and took a path that offered shots through scattered small openings in the cover. If I was going to find a shot I'd have to look things over real well, pick the place and execute the shot without a lot of thought.

There'd be none of that bleating noise attempts to stop him. I didn't trust that at all. I'd make the best of what was offered.

I had to lean out from the stand a little and bend hard at the waist. My longbow "Myrtle" had to be laid over almost flat as he entered a small opening at 15 yards.

Coming to a solid anchor I held an instant and let the shot slip away. An inch lower and the fletch would have brushed his back. As it was it sailed harmlessly past and stuck in the ground beyond with a light "snick".

The buck jumped at the noise and stopped behind a screen of brush. I could barely see him standing there stock still and if I hadn't seen him stop there I'd have thought he was gone.

He stood there for quite a while looking and listening. The fact that I was shooting a Hill style longbow and how silent they are entered my mind.
I'm sure with one of my recurves he'd have kept going, but he didn't seem to have heard the longbow at all and aside from being alert, he didn't seem all that upset.

[Charlie Lamb]

I fully expected him to walk straight away from me and if he did it would all be over. If he moved in the direction he'd originally been traveling I MIGHT get a second chance.

After a few more moments he made his decision. He was moving toward the open and would cross into it about 25 yards away.
I shifted my feet slightly and turned my body for a possible shot. I was holding the bow so that it pointed toward the opening and a little low. A slight swing upward as I drew the bow would put me on target when the time was right.

He moved slowly but steadily toward the open then came to a stop just on the edge of my window... don't they always do that?

I curled my fingers around the string a little more. I knew that when he moved again he'd step into the open and I would shoot. That is just what happened.

[Manitoba Stickflinger]

25 Yards? C'mon Charlie...make the shot!!

[Trumpkin the Dwarf]

[Charlie Lamb]

The buck stopped after a couple of steps and looked back behind him toward the arrow sticking in the dirt.
At this moment the bow came up and the string came back to anchor. With the quickness of thought the arrow leaped forward and streaked toward the eight pointer.

As usually happens, there was a moment of confusion as the arrow hit. The buck was turning and gathering himself to spring forward and in that instant he was gone into the brush.

There was an aweful lot of noise as he ran. Limbs crashing and sticks breaking. I didn't know it at that moment, but the arrow had struck low and a little forward of where it had been aimed, breaking the leg, but penetrating to the heart of the great stag.

Soon all was quiet. I knew he was laying less than 50 yards away even though I couldn't see him. I gathered my gear and descended the ladder. Everything but my bow and quiver were left right there. I collected the dropped arrow from just behind the ladder and put in the quiver. A fresh missile was selected and placed on the bow. Slowly I moved in the direction I'd last heard the buck.
It was a path that would cross his line of travel even if I didn't find him laying there. I'd find the blood trail there.

I didn't find him laying where I thought he would be but his trail was easy to pick up. The ground was covered with itch weed and the soft stems of that plant are easily bent and broken.

The path of the stricken buck was wide and easy to follow even without the light splashes of blood which dotted the path.