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Hello fellow TOO. I also had a very rough season and didn't fill a tag. I broke my foot and missed the entire rut. Made it out to a neighbors for shotgun, and had two poachers kill a doe about 100 yards from me. I was 20 feet up a tree and not inclined to confront two armed men who already proved the law don't apply to them. They beat feet and I notified the land owner. That was opening day. I hunted several stands with excellent sign every day. All day. Didn't see anything until closing day. 4:45 and I'm a little bummed. (I put in a lot of miles scouting this year.) Now here come two does at a full clip through the river bottom. Jumping logs and dodging trees at about 70 yards. I was confident in my ability and the ass behind the 3" mag in my Ithaca Deerslayer. First shot. Clear miss. Both deer slide to a dead stop. Money. Rack, click... wtf? Rack, click. The does bail and I'm sitting with two live rounds in my lap. Turns out after sighting in and cleaning, somehow I installed the ejector/lifter in wrong and it just dumped all my ammo in my lap. [emoji43] Nice job Matt. Now I'm frustrated, embarrassed, and over it.
I hiked out and made the five minute drive back home. I pulled in at dusk, throw it in park and jump out to go vent to my father. And what do I see? 6 does and fawns standing in my back yard. (We have 3 acres, one wooded.) I duck behind my car and Jack a shell into the chamber. Sweet redemption. They're an out an acre away so I do my best awkward crouch ninja run to a big fat pine. This puts me about 50 yards out. They weren't sure they saw me but we're getting jumpy, about to walk into the neighboring field that I don't have permission to hunt, only retrieve. I'm running out of shooting light so it's time to make my move. I know I only have one shot to work with. So I pick my lane and wait for the last mature doe in the group to walk into it. BOOM. I'm positive I put a good lung shot on her. They all take off into the middle of this 10 acre field and she lays down. Thank you Lord.
So I go inside and explain the shooting and get some hot food. About an hour later my pops and I head out. Let's go get mah deer! I start at the point of impact in widening circles just looking for that pink foam... no blood. Well she did run, and I saw her lay down. Must be a little farther down. The mud was soft and the track was easy to follow. The rest of the doe group was still in the field and we headed their way. I point out to my dad the lump in the center of the mud patch. "That's her." I say. Now I'm ready for some liver. 20 yards away she stands up and runs another 40 or so yards. Looks back over her shoulder and bounces away. Why this deer laid down I'll never know, but 30 more minutes of searching didn't turn up a single drop of blood. Strike two. Within an hour of strike one.
Disgusted with my poor shooting I take a week off to let everything calm down from shotgun. My hunting area is now back to its usual size. The lone wooded acre out back. I'll take what I can get. We're fortunate enough to share borders with two large farms. All three properties converge on what I call the gauntlet (lame I know.) My property butts into two separate fields owned by diffrent farmers. Separated on their side by a wooded slope and a ravine on my side. It's a perfect funnel and heavily trafficked, all rubbed up and a nice scrape. This is where I hunt the rut. His is the stomping ground of a huge buck. I believe i have been watching him for three years now. I'm pretty sure I have his 1.5 shed and it's impressive.
Here's one of his beds and a track. With my limited hunting range he's by far the biggest deer I've ever had a chance at, and I'm praying he survived shotgun season. A few weeks pass and I'm hunting mornings and evenings, not every day but often because I'm still not working due to the broken foot. So one day I decided to switch things up, I had been hunting a ground blind at the top of the rige. I grabbed my climber and my Horton crossbow and climb a tree. It's getting on in the evening and like a ghost, there he is. Just stepped into the woods from a grassy field. He survived! Is racing through my head. I aim to end his good luck. He's working a few small rubs on the field line but I need him to drop down the hill a bit to where I'm more comfortable with this bow.the takes a few more steps into the woods and stops dead. What I failed to realize was that when you climb 20' up a tree looking across a 20' ditch, is that it puts you directly in the line of sight of whatever is across that ditch. Dummy. He froze and was looking me in the eye. Shit. He hadn't winded me but he knew I was there. He snorted, took a giant dump and was getting ready to bolt. He turned and took a few steps back the way he came, tail goin a mile a minute.
Now here friends is where I made the final mistake that sealed my season. I took a shot that I wasn't 100% comfortable with. I'm not proud of that decision, but it's the one I made. I let my bolt fly. And I connected! He gave the classic jump and kicked his back legs out that is the hallmark of a 3 blade expandable going through the heart. Yes! 3rd times the charm. I lost sight of him but knew he would go far. I called my dad to come meet me and began to climb down and pack up.
We let an hour pass before I couldn't take it any longer. I crossed the ravine to right where I knew he was standing. Ground all tore to hell. There was my bolt buried to the fetching in the soft earth. I slowly worked it out so I could see that blood so dark it's almost black. Not what I found. I was holding a clean arrow with one of the three blades deployed. Uh-ho. I start looking for blood. No blood. I get on my hands and knees to search in the dark. What I found was a tuft of white fur with a peice of hide attached to it that was about the size of my pinky nail and one lone drop of blood. I had knicked his belly and scared the deer bejeasus out of him. Another hour of searching and a long hike in the morning confirmed that he was long gone. Never to be seen again.
I continued to hunt through muzzle loader and hunted up to the very last day of the season. I knew he wouldn't return this winter and all I saw after that day was a reoccurring doe with her twins. I passed on them probably six times. Deer need role models too I guess and I couldn't break up the family.
And that was my season. I'm a younger hunter out on his own now since dad stopped coming out. I think I learned more about hunting this season than I have all the others combined. All in all I'm happy with it. Not as happy as with a big 8 on my wall, but satisfied. If you made it this far, thanks for reading. Feel free to point out my mistakes, or even what I need to keep doing.
Any opinions on the buck would also be appreciated. I believe he's still out there as his track and droppings are familiar to me as a handshake. I'm determined to get out and find his sheds because he seems to stay in the area. Wish me luck.
Oh. The trail cam pictures are all pre rut, and he was often seen in daylight feeding and sparring.
I hiked out and made the five minute drive back home. I pulled in at dusk, throw it in park and jump out to go vent to my father. And what do I see? 6 does and fawns standing in my back yard. (We have 3 acres, one wooded.) I duck behind my car and Jack a shell into the chamber. Sweet redemption. They're an out an acre away so I do my best awkward crouch ninja run to a big fat pine. This puts me about 50 yards out. They weren't sure they saw me but we're getting jumpy, about to walk into the neighboring field that I don't have permission to hunt, only retrieve. I'm running out of shooting light so it's time to make my move. I know I only have one shot to work with. So I pick my lane and wait for the last mature doe in the group to walk into it. BOOM. I'm positive I put a good lung shot on her. They all take off into the middle of this 10 acre field and she lays down. Thank you Lord.
So I go inside and explain the shooting and get some hot food. About an hour later my pops and I head out. Let's go get mah deer! I start at the point of impact in widening circles just looking for that pink foam... no blood. Well she did run, and I saw her lay down. Must be a little farther down. The mud was soft and the track was easy to follow. The rest of the doe group was still in the field and we headed their way. I point out to my dad the lump in the center of the mud patch. "That's her." I say. Now I'm ready for some liver. 20 yards away she stands up and runs another 40 or so yards. Looks back over her shoulder and bounces away. Why this deer laid down I'll never know, but 30 more minutes of searching didn't turn up a single drop of blood. Strike two. Within an hour of strike one.
Disgusted with my poor shooting I take a week off to let everything calm down from shotgun. My hunting area is now back to its usual size. The lone wooded acre out back. I'll take what I can get. We're fortunate enough to share borders with two large farms. All three properties converge on what I call the gauntlet (lame I know.) My property butts into two separate fields owned by diffrent farmers. Separated on their side by a wooded slope and a ravine on my side. It's a perfect funnel and heavily trafficked, all rubbed up and a nice scrape. This is where I hunt the rut. His is the stomping ground of a huge buck. I believe i have been watching him for three years now. I'm pretty sure I have his 1.5 shed and it's impressive.
Here's one of his beds and a track. With my limited hunting range he's by far the biggest deer I've ever had a chance at, and I'm praying he survived shotgun season. A few weeks pass and I'm hunting mornings and evenings, not every day but often because I'm still not working due to the broken foot. So one day I decided to switch things up, I had been hunting a ground blind at the top of the rige. I grabbed my climber and my Horton crossbow and climb a tree. It's getting on in the evening and like a ghost, there he is. Just stepped into the woods from a grassy field. He survived! Is racing through my head. I aim to end his good luck. He's working a few small rubs on the field line but I need him to drop down the hill a bit to where I'm more comfortable with this bow.the takes a few more steps into the woods and stops dead. What I failed to realize was that when you climb 20' up a tree looking across a 20' ditch, is that it puts you directly in the line of sight of whatever is across that ditch. Dummy. He froze and was looking me in the eye. Shit. He hadn't winded me but he knew I was there. He snorted, took a giant dump and was getting ready to bolt. He turned and took a few steps back the way he came, tail goin a mile a minute.
Now here friends is where I made the final mistake that sealed my season. I took a shot that I wasn't 100% comfortable with. I'm not proud of that decision, but it's the one I made. I let my bolt fly. And I connected! He gave the classic jump and kicked his back legs out that is the hallmark of a 3 blade expandable going through the heart. Yes! 3rd times the charm. I lost sight of him but knew he would go far. I called my dad to come meet me and began to climb down and pack up.
We let an hour pass before I couldn't take it any longer. I crossed the ravine to right where I knew he was standing. Ground all tore to hell. There was my bolt buried to the fetching in the soft earth. I slowly worked it out so I could see that blood so dark it's almost black. Not what I found. I was holding a clean arrow with one of the three blades deployed. Uh-ho. I start looking for blood. No blood. I get on my hands and knees to search in the dark. What I found was a tuft of white fur with a peice of hide attached to it that was about the size of my pinky nail and one lone drop of blood. I had knicked his belly and scared the deer bejeasus out of him. Another hour of searching and a long hike in the morning confirmed that he was long gone. Never to be seen again.
I continued to hunt through muzzle loader and hunted up to the very last day of the season. I knew he wouldn't return this winter and all I saw after that day was a reoccurring doe with her twins. I passed on them probably six times. Deer need role models too I guess and I couldn't break up the family.
And that was my season. I'm a younger hunter out on his own now since dad stopped coming out. I think I learned more about hunting this season than I have all the others combined. All in all I'm happy with it. Not as happy as with a big 8 on my wall, but satisfied. If you made it this far, thanks for reading. Feel free to point out my mistakes, or even what I need to keep doing.
Any opinions on the buck would also be appreciated. I believe he's still out there as his track and droppings are familiar to me as a handshake. I'm determined to get out and find his sheds because he seems to stay in the area. Wish me luck.
Oh. The trail cam pictures are all pre rut, and he was often seen in daylight feeding and sparring.