A cold front dipped down from Canada earlier in the week and drove morning temps into single digits. Add a stiff wind and it was brutal sitting in a tree stand for hours on end... especially with no deer moving. This morning at about 6 a.m., it was a balmy 16 degrees with a gentle breeze,as I headed out to the woods behind the house. I climbed the hemlock to my tree stand and settled in for a long sit. Shortly before 7 a.m., I head footsteps heading my way. I turned my head and saw a deer approaching from directly downwind. I gritted my teeth, expecting the deer to bolt and blow. It continued coming my way until it was directly under my tree. It stood there for a minute or two and then walked out in front of me. It strolled over to a scent rag that I left hanging on a branch. Not being a "trophy" hunter, I drew down on the fat five-pointer, hit my anchor for a split second and the arrow was gone. The buck ran up the hill to the southwest flat out. A few seconds later, I heard what sounded like a distant branch breaking.
I sat in my stand for about 20 minutes and then descended to go look for my arrow or blood. I found some blood right away (no arrow)but it was sparse. I reflected back to see if I could remember exactly where the buck ran through as it went up the hill. Since it wasn't bright yet, I went back to the house (five minute walk) to get a cup of coffee and gather my haul rope and knife.
A half hour later in brighter light, I went back to trail the deer, knowing that I had about an hour before I had to leave for an appointment in town.
As I mentioned earlier, the blood trail was sparse. In fact, after about 100 yards it disappeared. I worked several trails from my last found blood to no avail. Then, I remembered the breaking branch noise.
I followed my best guess and walked over to the edge of the steep downward slope to the west and saw the buck lying dead at the bottom.
When I got to the deer, I saw that my arrow entered in back of the last rib and exited in the area of the opposite arm pit where the broadhead end broke off. Seems the exit hole was plugged with fat. I tagged the deer and propped my longbow (Tim Strickland's Stick) over the buck, as it was too late to process it before I had to go to my appointment.
I got back from town about two hours later and went out to bring the deer back to the house. I took some pix before I gutted the beast. I brought a kid's plastic snow toboggan to use to haul/drag the deer... It used to be quite handy when I had three boys at home to help with stuff like this, but they are all grown up and off to far off places. Anyway, I took my time pulling the deer through brush, dead falls, frozen marsh and up the hill to the house.
It was quite a day, and now my wife, Sara, and I have a nice stash of prime venison.
Topic: The 13th? Lucky for me (Read 643 times)
