Waited two weeks to let me thoughts and experience marinade. Here's my story.
The Land
Long Island, NY. Public land, a small section of the available state with 1 parking spot, permitting only 1 hunter at a time. First come first serve.
The Setup
I had an opportunity to have an evening sit 1 week prior mid-week. Got in at 2pm to this area that I had previously not entered. Walked in about half a mile along an unmarked trail, following it around a thick area that I guessed would make good bedding. Set up in a tree around 2:45 on the south side of a small 20yd clearing near oak trees and some scrapes. Looked like a good spot, so I set up. Climbed up 15 feet using 3 steps and a knaider/swaider. Around 3:45, I watched a small buck work a few scrapes around 30-40 yards away. It was amazing watching scrapes being created in real-time (first for me). I was in awe at the actuality of what i've only read in research or books (shout out to Precision Bowhunting, phenomenal resource). Later on around 4pm, I watched a small fawn prance about picking up some of the acorns around my spot. While watching this little fawn, I heard a rustling behind me.
The First Meeting
I quietly turned to look and immediately felt my gut drop. Behind a bush, I could only see the points of a magnificent rack bob up and down as the biggest buck I've ever laid eyes on worked the same scrapes as before. He thrashed the tree, pawed the earth, and marked his territory with purpose. Knowing I didn't have a clear shot (and he was out of range) I was enamored watching this giant exhibit his nature. To my excitement, he set his head down and walked with purpose right towards me. He moved from my 5oclock on a path to the next scrape (at 1oclock) in a banana-shaped path. At the crest of this banana, I realized, he would be passing right at 20 yards. The downside- it was on my right side (3oclock) at my most uncomfortable shooting angle. I crept around the tree as I had previously watched G2 perform on youtube a dozen times, set my feet, and drew back my bow. Needless to say, I was uncomfortable, and with my heart pounding out of my chest, I lived out what I had only dreamed of- my first shot opportunity. As he made it to that unlikely spot 20 yards away, I was flooded with emotions and thoughts- Do I take the shot I'm not fully comfortable with? Should I bleet to stop him? Will my arm stop shaking? Before I could even decide, he had continued to move on, unaware of my internal battle. He moved on, ending at the terminal scrape that the small buck had worked prior, moving in and making it his own. Shaking, I watched him work another scrape, and knew I would think about this moment forever. Not much work got done that next week, knowing I had to wait to get back to my spot. Instead, I created and practiced a shot sequence. I edited my iPhone wallpaper to even memorialize it so I would be reminded at every phone-check. Grip, Nock, Pull, Ear, Elbow, Nose, Fingers, Hip Pivot, Aim, Fire.
The Next Hunt
A week later, I drove to the same area on a cool sunday morning, hoping I would get another chance at my prize. Initially, I was more preoccupied with hoping that I would get there early enough to be the first one in that spot. Weekends are crowded and cutthroat. I arrived at 4:30am on Sunday, November 3rd. Daylight savings probably helped me, somehow. I unloaded, dressed, and walked into the darkness (first early morning darkness setup). I decided to forgo my prior spot for one closer to the terminal scrape. I found a tall pine tree, in the dark, with a slight 15 degree lean (estimate). I climbed up 20ft and set up my wooden step platform on the hump-side of the slanted tree. I learned that in this tree, I could stand on my platform with my back to the tree, and make a much more comfortable weak-side shot. I sat and watched as the sun arose, bringing life to the woods. Birds chirped, squirrels imitated monster buck, and my emotions were settled. My bladder wasn't. I had to pee, and using my new standing-up technique, was able to relieve myself from the tree. You never realize how loud you pee until you're in the woods 20ft up. Fast Forward 8 hours- 2pm again, and no deer sighting. I began to fret. Had I lost my chance during the long wait?
I watched a flock of turkeys about 50 yards away saunter into the woods. When does turkey season start? Let me check. Two more weeks. I should come back. This is a great spot. I hope this isn't someone else's honey-hole. This is my honey-hole. What's that noise? Oh a doe! Maybe I have a chance. Let's see what this doe does. She's pretty far, I think I marked that tree at 60 yards. She doesn't mind the turkeys. maybe I should practice my turkey calls, she seems unaffected by their clucks. Oh she has a friend, who's that? Holy ****, it's him.
I hoped, prayed, anguished that he would come by. But why would he? He's with a doe, he owns these woods, he's focused on one thing. However, the next few moments were not written in any books (that i've read). Out of no where, my buck- I've since named him Cherry- left the doe in a hurry and rushed in my unlikely direction. On a mission, 60 yards, straight to my stand. He got to within 10, maybe 5 yards of me, on my right side again, and started to sniff along the ground. I shifted in my platform, turned around, and drew down on my now left side, straight down on him. I went through my shot sequence, paused, he stepped forward with his right leg, I fired. Cherry let out a moan as the arrow ate into his right armpit. I saw the blood shoot out of the entry wound. He took off, slowed after 10 steps, took a few more weary steps, and I watched him tilt over and fall into the grass.
I called my dad, I texted my rookie hunter group, I realized how cold I was and how hard I was shaking. I set my phone timer, and took a picture of where I saw him fall from the stand. 30 minutes later, I made it down. I walked over to him, and I finally saw him in all his glory. Bigger than I could imagine. Better than what I had dreamed. I did it, my first successful harvest, and statistically my best for a long, long time. In my second year of hunting, I had arrowed and harvested my first buck, and may be my best for a while. I have peaked.
Aftermath
I gutted him with the Steve Rinella "How to gut a deer in the field" video on repeat. I dragged him back to my Jeep. I stuffed him in the back over my until-now unused tarp, drove him home, hugged my dad, had a beer, and 6 hours later vacuum sealed my harvest. My mom made our favorite dish with some front quarter meat- stew over rice. It was heaven. I later learned that after I called my dad from the stand, after we had hung up, he turned away from her and cried. Joy, that the son that didn't want to hunt with him as a kid, came around and found the desire to partake in this beautiful sport and provide. I'm hooked for life, and for now, I'm okay with peaking.
The Land
Long Island, NY. Public land, a small section of the available state with 1 parking spot, permitting only 1 hunter at a time. First come first serve.
The Setup
I had an opportunity to have an evening sit 1 week prior mid-week. Got in at 2pm to this area that I had previously not entered. Walked in about half a mile along an unmarked trail, following it around a thick area that I guessed would make good bedding. Set up in a tree around 2:45 on the south side of a small 20yd clearing near oak trees and some scrapes. Looked like a good spot, so I set up. Climbed up 15 feet using 3 steps and a knaider/swaider. Around 3:45, I watched a small buck work a few scrapes around 30-40 yards away. It was amazing watching scrapes being created in real-time (first for me). I was in awe at the actuality of what i've only read in research or books (shout out to Precision Bowhunting, phenomenal resource). Later on around 4pm, I watched a small fawn prance about picking up some of the acorns around my spot. While watching this little fawn, I heard a rustling behind me.
The First Meeting
I quietly turned to look and immediately felt my gut drop. Behind a bush, I could only see the points of a magnificent rack bob up and down as the biggest buck I've ever laid eyes on worked the same scrapes as before. He thrashed the tree, pawed the earth, and marked his territory with purpose. Knowing I didn't have a clear shot (and he was out of range) I was enamored watching this giant exhibit his nature. To my excitement, he set his head down and walked with purpose right towards me. He moved from my 5oclock on a path to the next scrape (at 1oclock) in a banana-shaped path. At the crest of this banana, I realized, he would be passing right at 20 yards. The downside- it was on my right side (3oclock) at my most uncomfortable shooting angle. I crept around the tree as I had previously watched G2 perform on youtube a dozen times, set my feet, and drew back my bow. Needless to say, I was uncomfortable, and with my heart pounding out of my chest, I lived out what I had only dreamed of- my first shot opportunity. As he made it to that unlikely spot 20 yards away, I was flooded with emotions and thoughts- Do I take the shot I'm not fully comfortable with? Should I bleet to stop him? Will my arm stop shaking? Before I could even decide, he had continued to move on, unaware of my internal battle. He moved on, ending at the terminal scrape that the small buck had worked prior, moving in and making it his own. Shaking, I watched him work another scrape, and knew I would think about this moment forever. Not much work got done that next week, knowing I had to wait to get back to my spot. Instead, I created and practiced a shot sequence. I edited my iPhone wallpaper to even memorialize it so I would be reminded at every phone-check. Grip, Nock, Pull, Ear, Elbow, Nose, Fingers, Hip Pivot, Aim, Fire.
The Next Hunt
A week later, I drove to the same area on a cool sunday morning, hoping I would get another chance at my prize. Initially, I was more preoccupied with hoping that I would get there early enough to be the first one in that spot. Weekends are crowded and cutthroat. I arrived at 4:30am on Sunday, November 3rd. Daylight savings probably helped me, somehow. I unloaded, dressed, and walked into the darkness (first early morning darkness setup). I decided to forgo my prior spot for one closer to the terminal scrape. I found a tall pine tree, in the dark, with a slight 15 degree lean (estimate). I climbed up 20ft and set up my wooden step platform on the hump-side of the slanted tree. I learned that in this tree, I could stand on my platform with my back to the tree, and make a much more comfortable weak-side shot. I sat and watched as the sun arose, bringing life to the woods. Birds chirped, squirrels imitated monster buck, and my emotions were settled. My bladder wasn't. I had to pee, and using my new standing-up technique, was able to relieve myself from the tree. You never realize how loud you pee until you're in the woods 20ft up. Fast Forward 8 hours- 2pm again, and no deer sighting. I began to fret. Had I lost my chance during the long wait?
I watched a flock of turkeys about 50 yards away saunter into the woods. When does turkey season start? Let me check. Two more weeks. I should come back. This is a great spot. I hope this isn't someone else's honey-hole. This is my honey-hole. What's that noise? Oh a doe! Maybe I have a chance. Let's see what this doe does. She's pretty far, I think I marked that tree at 60 yards. She doesn't mind the turkeys. maybe I should practice my turkey calls, she seems unaffected by their clucks. Oh she has a friend, who's that? Holy ****, it's him.
I hoped, prayed, anguished that he would come by. But why would he? He's with a doe, he owns these woods, he's focused on one thing. However, the next few moments were not written in any books (that i've read). Out of no where, my buck- I've since named him Cherry- left the doe in a hurry and rushed in my unlikely direction. On a mission, 60 yards, straight to my stand. He got to within 10, maybe 5 yards of me, on my right side again, and started to sniff along the ground. I shifted in my platform, turned around, and drew down on my now left side, straight down on him. I went through my shot sequence, paused, he stepped forward with his right leg, I fired. Cherry let out a moan as the arrow ate into his right armpit. I saw the blood shoot out of the entry wound. He took off, slowed after 10 steps, took a few more weary steps, and I watched him tilt over and fall into the grass.
I called my dad, I texted my rookie hunter group, I realized how cold I was and how hard I was shaking. I set my phone timer, and took a picture of where I saw him fall from the stand. 30 minutes later, I made it down. I walked over to him, and I finally saw him in all his glory. Bigger than I could imagine. Better than what I had dreamed. I did it, my first successful harvest, and statistically my best for a long, long time. In my second year of hunting, I had arrowed and harvested my first buck, and may be my best for a while. I have peaked.
Aftermath
I gutted him with the Steve Rinella "How to gut a deer in the field" video on repeat. I dragged him back to my Jeep. I stuffed him in the back over my until-now unused tarp, drove him home, hugged my dad, had a beer, and 6 hours later vacuum sealed my harvest. My mom made our favorite dish with some front quarter meat- stew over rice. It was heaven. I later learned that after I called my dad from the stand, after we had hung up, he turned away from her and cried. Joy, that the son that didn't want to hunt with him as a kid, came around and found the desire to partake in this beautiful sport and provide. I'm hooked for life, and for now, I'm okay with peaking.
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