FireInMyBones
New Member
On Thanksgiving morning of 2022, I smoked myself out to cover my scent and did the short walk in to the tree I had previously selected. I climbed the tree with my DIY one-stick and set up in my new DIY Wraptor saddle.
Within five minutes of silently waiting, a doe showed up on the other side of the barbed-wire fence I was set up near as part of my funnel. The doe paced on the other side of the fence (a large parcel of private property) within 20 yards of me for about ten minutes before turning around and heading off into the trees. I could see a large buck chasing an anxious doe about a quarter mile away across a creek and up an opposing hill when, out of the corner of my eye, I saw the doe return my direction, but on my side of the fence. I couldn't believe it. The wind was perfect. As the doe approached, I tried not to loose the grip on my bow as I freed it from the hook on my tether. The doe kept coming. I was flabbergasted that it hadn't seen me or winded me yet. As it passed behind a tree about 30 yards away, I drew back and held steady. I followed the doe until it came fully out from behind the tree. Everything was going perfect. This was going to be a slight quartering to shot, but I had full faith in my 525gn arrow and cutthroat broadhead. The deer wouldn't stop walking! I tried grunting but I think it sounded more like a squeak. I was about to shoot my first deer. I grunted again, the correct pitch this time, and the doe finally stopped to look around for the source of the noise. I pulled through the shot and my release broke. The arrow flew straight and I hit the back end of the shoulder at 15 yards. I watched the doe leap and I could see the fletching in the dirt on the other side of the fence. The doe took off the way she came and I breathed a sigh of relief.
Checking my watch to start the timer, I noticed that my watch picked up my heightened stress and asked me to calm down. I chuckled and began to slowly pack my gear to get down. I repelled down after 20 minutes and then packed my stick away. As I walked toward my arrow, I saw movement to my right and spooked two other deer heading my way. *I guess I should have hung out a little longer. Too late now.* I pluck my arrow from the dirt and replace it in my quiver to begin the blood trail. Dark bubbly blood.
I was sure that the deer was piled up at the bottom of the hill near the creek. I followed an incredible blood trail down to the creek. Every time I thought I'd lost it, I found it again. There was more blood than I expected. It was every step. I tracked the blood along the creek until it dipped under the fence of the property to my left. There was a huge gap under the fence where the ground had eroded away. I walked back to my gear, gathered it up, and walked to my truck.
I drove to the entrance of the gated property about a mile away. The sign at the gate reads "No Hunting" which doesn't bode well. The first person I can get on the digital gate box is the property manager. When I explain the situation he sounds incredibly excited. He's a hunter too and has permission from his clients to hunt and manage game on the property. He'll arrive in about 20 minutes.
He pulls up, opens the gate, and when I tell him the full story he is very excited to pass on any skills he can to me as a novice hunter. We talk as he walks me down to the eroded out fence and then we track the blood across almost two additional miles. One thing I quickly learned is that tracking over grass is a pain. When we find two possible entry spots into a thicket at the end of the trail, I take one and he takes the other. I have no weapon on me (per the request of the land owner), but he has a revolver. I see nothing and back out. He jumps the deer. It barely hobbles out of the thicket, sees me and trots off pouring blood. I broke its shoulder, but hit too far back clipping a lung and puncturing it's liver. I still can't believe that doe had survived so long. I shot the deer at 0830 and this is 1300. I wait for the property manager to come out of the thicket and we start tracking again. After about 100 yards, we can't find a blood trail anymore. We back track only to realize that the deer double backed at some pint and then its trail ran cold. We searched for another hour. Nothing. Since it was Thanksgiving he said that he couldn't help any longer, but that he honored my due diligence. He let me trail the whole time only giving clues from behind every once and a while. We now have each other's number and can communicate if something like this happens again. Upon reflection, I feel I should have ran down the deer in its dying state. As an ultramarathoner, and being weaponless, I'm sure I could have over taken it. I do not expect to forget this experience any time soon. I have learned more about shot placement and thinking of the exit (not just the entrance) and pray that I can be successful this year.
Within five minutes of silently waiting, a doe showed up on the other side of the barbed-wire fence I was set up near as part of my funnel. The doe paced on the other side of the fence (a large parcel of private property) within 20 yards of me for about ten minutes before turning around and heading off into the trees. I could see a large buck chasing an anxious doe about a quarter mile away across a creek and up an opposing hill when, out of the corner of my eye, I saw the doe return my direction, but on my side of the fence. I couldn't believe it. The wind was perfect. As the doe approached, I tried not to loose the grip on my bow as I freed it from the hook on my tether. The doe kept coming. I was flabbergasted that it hadn't seen me or winded me yet. As it passed behind a tree about 30 yards away, I drew back and held steady. I followed the doe until it came fully out from behind the tree. Everything was going perfect. This was going to be a slight quartering to shot, but I had full faith in my 525gn arrow and cutthroat broadhead. The deer wouldn't stop walking! I tried grunting but I think it sounded more like a squeak. I was about to shoot my first deer. I grunted again, the correct pitch this time, and the doe finally stopped to look around for the source of the noise. I pulled through the shot and my release broke. The arrow flew straight and I hit the back end of the shoulder at 15 yards. I watched the doe leap and I could see the fletching in the dirt on the other side of the fence. The doe took off the way she came and I breathed a sigh of relief.
Checking my watch to start the timer, I noticed that my watch picked up my heightened stress and asked me to calm down. I chuckled and began to slowly pack my gear to get down. I repelled down after 20 minutes and then packed my stick away. As I walked toward my arrow, I saw movement to my right and spooked two other deer heading my way. *I guess I should have hung out a little longer. Too late now.* I pluck my arrow from the dirt and replace it in my quiver to begin the blood trail. Dark bubbly blood.
I was sure that the deer was piled up at the bottom of the hill near the creek. I followed an incredible blood trail down to the creek. Every time I thought I'd lost it, I found it again. There was more blood than I expected. It was every step. I tracked the blood along the creek until it dipped under the fence of the property to my left. There was a huge gap under the fence where the ground had eroded away. I walked back to my gear, gathered it up, and walked to my truck.
I drove to the entrance of the gated property about a mile away. The sign at the gate reads "No Hunting" which doesn't bode well. The first person I can get on the digital gate box is the property manager. When I explain the situation he sounds incredibly excited. He's a hunter too and has permission from his clients to hunt and manage game on the property. He'll arrive in about 20 minutes.
He pulls up, opens the gate, and when I tell him the full story he is very excited to pass on any skills he can to me as a novice hunter. We talk as he walks me down to the eroded out fence and then we track the blood across almost two additional miles. One thing I quickly learned is that tracking over grass is a pain. When we find two possible entry spots into a thicket at the end of the trail, I take one and he takes the other. I have no weapon on me (per the request of the land owner), but he has a revolver. I see nothing and back out. He jumps the deer. It barely hobbles out of the thicket, sees me and trots off pouring blood. I broke its shoulder, but hit too far back clipping a lung and puncturing it's liver. I still can't believe that doe had survived so long. I shot the deer at 0830 and this is 1300. I wait for the property manager to come out of the thicket and we start tracking again. After about 100 yards, we can't find a blood trail anymore. We back track only to realize that the deer double backed at some pint and then its trail ran cold. We searched for another hour. Nothing. Since it was Thanksgiving he said that he couldn't help any longer, but that he honored my due diligence. He let me trail the whole time only giving clues from behind every once and a while. We now have each other's number and can communicate if something like this happens again. Upon reflection, I feel I should have ran down the deer in its dying state. As an ultramarathoner, and being weaponless, I'm sure I could have over taken it. I do not expect to forget this experience any time soon. I have learned more about shot placement and thinking of the exit (not just the entrance) and pray that I can be successful this year.