Mosquitos, humidity, alligators, and whitetail deer
Yeah, there’s a lot to be experienced in North Carolina, and I got to get up close and fairly personal with all of it over my recent long weekend.
I was hoping to have the story of my weekend on video, but that’s gonna have to wait until later this week. In the meantime, here’s a word-centric version for those of you who’ve been wondering how I did.
Some of you will remember the catalyst for this whole trip, a trail-cam photo my brother sent me. Allegedly, this buck was on his property, and allegedly, he has this big boy all figured out, from bedroom to dinner table and all points in between. Allegedly…
Well, I jumped on it, made my airline reservations, and let my mom know she’d have an unexpected house guest for a few days. I’d arrive on Thursday night, spend the day Friday visiting and relaxing (and doing a few hours of work), then plan on hitting the opening morning on Saturday. Based on my brother’s stories, I figured we’d have a deer each on the hook by 10:00, and relax on the river the rest of the day.
The best laid plans of mice and men g’ang aft agley!
Robert Burns
Brother Burns had it right. So did Murphy.
Saturday morning dawned hot and muggy. Sweat soaked my new, lightweight clothes, and ran down my spine. I was thankful for my Thermacell, as I could hear the mosquitoes plotting their assault, only to be thwarted again and again by the vapors from this magical device. The wind was absolutely still, and with the dense humidity, scent dropped to the ground and stayed there.
All this detail serves a point… Stink. The hunters’ bane. Deer don’t like us.
About an hour after first light, I was scanning the woods when I heard the dreaded “huff”, and turned my head in time to see the white flag flickering through the catclaws and pin oaks. The deer had been within 15 yards and I’d neither heard her, nor seen her until she hit my scent and blew out. How long she’d been there, I’ll never know. The dense, late-summer foliage made it impossible to see anywhere except the shooting lanes my brother had cut.
I sat tight, waiting for quite a while, until I was sure the deer wasn’t going to circle back (as they sometimes do). I hung my bow on the hook, and settled back into my seat. Morning dragged on, and the effects of staying up late the previous night, and rising at 0400 were catching up. Keep in mind that I still hadn’t had an opportunity to switch from Pacific time to the East Coast, so my internal clock was all out of whack and I was dog tired. I caught myself nodding from time to time, and knew I wouldn’t last much longer.
I shot a little more video, and considered climbing down and heading back to the truck. As I was doing a little monologue, I heard a snap in the bushes. I froze, and put the camera away, slowly. I couldn’t see anything, but as I scanned the brush I heard it again… the whoof of exhaled air, and the crash of brush. This time, I saw the deer breaking away to my left, heading for an open spot. I lifted the bow, hoping for a shot, but just as the deer hit the opening, he disappeared! A ditch runs along the property line right there, and it is apparently a regular escape route.
I held tight for another hour or two before climbing down. It was too hot to be there anymore, my back was aching, and I was a little disappointed that all of the main trails were directly downwind of my stand.
Back at mom’s place, I took a brief nap, had some lunch, and took some practice shots with the Mathews. Before long, it was time to get back in the woods. To summarize the evening hunt, nothing happened. Just before dark, I heard some deer blowing, and thought my brother may have had a shot. Turns out that there were a couple of smaller bucks sparring in the creek, too far for him to shoot and nowhere near my stand.
North Carolina is one of the handful of states that still doesn’t allow Sunday hunting. This worked out OK this trip, because it was an opportunity to spend some time with the whole family… nieces, nephews, brothers, sisters-in-law… you know, the whole shebang. It was fun, and definitely a highlight of the trip. Sunday came and went, and after over-indulging on good, homecooked food and a few drinks, I went to bed fairly early.
My schedule had me departing at 1125 on Monday, so the plan was for me to sleep in and then have a good breakfast before heading on over to the airport. I’d expected to have at least one deer in the cooler by then, but as we’ve seen, that wasn’t to be. So, instead of laying in bed, I was up and out at 04:00 again to get back in the treestand. I blame my little brother, who insisted that even if I shot one at the last minute, he’d track it and process it for me.
At 06:45, as the morning light was still filtering through the trees, I caught the movement of legs in the trail. I raised the Leicas and, sure enough, a small buck was browsing on something right in the middle of my shooting lane. With tiny, three-inch spikes, he was too small for even me to take, so I enjoyed watching him for a while. Another deer was with him, and while I couldn’t see antlers, it was about the same size, body-wise, and I figure it’s probably a sibling.
After watching them for a few minutes, they suddenly stopped still and stared back into the thicket before bolting up the trail. At first I thought my brother had just shot something, or was walking up the trail, but then I spotted a larger deer coming in. A quick scan with the binos told me he was a decent little cowhorn, and certainly good enough for a first archery deer. (A “cowhorn” is a spike with antlers over six inches or so.) I slowly lifted the bow from the hanger, and got ready.
It all went so perfectly, as he eased right into my shooting lane. As his head went behind a clister of branches, I raised and drew back. He stepped into the open and lowered his head, stopping almost perfectly broadside. Textbook!
I centered the pin, took a deep breath, and I’m pretty sure I gently squeezed the release trigger until the arrow zipped into the air. A split-second later, I heard the thump of the impact, and the deer spun and took off into the bushes. I listened to him run, hoping for a crash, but didn’t hear it. With the damp ground, I figured I might not hear anything, so I sat still for a half-hour, then climbed down to check the arrow and the sign.
And here’s where it all fell apart.
I estimated the range and the angle, and decided to hold a little high on the shoulder. The thought was that the angle would carry the arrow down, through the shoulder, into the lungs. But I over-estimated that angle, and the arrow apparently went right under the spine, but too high to hit any vitals. The arrow was covered in blood, but I couldn’t find a single drop on the ground for yards.
I packed my gear out to the road then went back in after another half-hour wait. By now my brother was down, and the two of us scoured the woods for sign. We circled outward. Finally, about 100 yards from where I’d made the shot, I spotted a splotch of blood on a dead leaf. We soon spotted another drop, then followed the likely trail until we hit more blood at the creek bank. We could see where the deer had run down the creek bank and crossed. He was heading toward a bedding area, and my hopes were getting pretty high.
Unfortunately the sun was getting higher too, and I realized it was way past time for me to go. It was two hours before my departure time, and I still had to drive back to mom’s place, get my luggage packed, and have her drive me to the airport. Regretfully, I left the tracking to my brother and took off.
Waiting for my connection in Atlanta a few hours later, I gave him a call. He told me he’d followed the trail without finding more blood, but as he entered the bedding area, a deer jumped and took off. He’s assuming it was my deer, and based on its movement, it wasn’t hurt too badly. He gave a brief pursuit, but found no indication that this deer was fatally hit. He finally gave up the search, and headed off to work.
So there we go. I’m blown away by this new bow, and the accuracy it offers. But even with this technology, there is no sure thing.
The streak continues… I have yet to take a big game animal with a bow.
Dayum Phil, you sure are snakebit. I’ve seen that shot bite a few fellers. One of the longest tracking jobs I been involved with was a high under the spine hit on a doe. We trailed her all night under the lanterns and finally gave up the next morning when we were wore out and sure she was going to be okay.
That dern angle of the dangle. One thing I do is when I get into a stand is I shoot a couple practice arrows to judge the distance and angle. If you got the spare arrows it can help. At least you have a better guestimate to go with.
September 16th, 2008 at 10:14 pm
I have to agree with Jesse, Phillip!
I used to climb up on the roof of my house and practice shots like that just to get a feel for shooting from above.
Being a Florida Cracker I can sympathize with you concerning them Whitetail’s, The second you hear that “wheezing blow” its all but over!
You got game though! You just keep it up and you will be as good as Chuck Adams soon!
September 17th, 2008 at 5:33 am
Well, it sounds like you had a good time with the family, so that’s good. Bummer that you didn’t get a deer though. You’ll break the streak eventually.
September 17th, 2008 at 5:42 am
Thanks all
Yeah, Jesse… definitely snakebit as far as taking big game with the bow. But I WILL break the streak this year, or danged well die trying.
What really kills me is that this shot would’ve been a chip shot with the recurve, and here I was with all this compound technology making me think too hard. If I’d just gone with my initial instinct, I’d have lowered my aiming point and just killed the danged deer.
Oh well, hindsight and all that, right?
And Kristine, you nailed it… the hunt was fun, and the time spent with family, as always, was priceless.
September 17th, 2008 at 7:24 am
Well, anyone who hunts with stick and string has went through this Phillip. I hope you decide to keep at it. Eventually you’re bow kill will come.
September 17th, 2008 at 8:47 am
Most all botched shots are high in archery. Wierd, eh? Not having been in the tree, the only suggestion I can give is to always aim low. Angles, whether up or down, will always raise trajectory, so if shooting from an angle, aim a bit lower.
Durned wheels!
September 17th, 2008 at 10:03 am
That last post was a bit cold, so please let me add that I completely feel your pain. I’ve been there, and know that sense of loss from the whole event. On the bright side, deer wounded from previous years’ close calls with arrows are often found healthy, so long as the arrow was sharp. Just consider it lettin’ him get bigger.
September 17th, 2008 at 10:07 am
No worries, Josh. Not cold at all, and absolutely right, of course.
I don’t get a lot of opportunity to practice shooting from an elevation, so it’s entirely possible that played into things. Even so, I may never know, but right now I’m 90% sure that arrow hit right where I aimed it. I was about 16 feet up, shooting a lasered 18 yards, which would have put the shot at 17 yards and a few inches. Not much of a difference in point of impact there with this fast, flat-shooting bow (yeah, I’ve been thinking on this a LOT).
That does lead me to the obvious problem, though. The angle was actually really mild. I knew this, I think, but just thought too hard about it and over-compensated. I felt pretty calm, but I think my logic got a little shaken. If I’d just used common sense, I’d have put that arrow right in the boiler room where it belonged instead of second-guessing myself and trying to get fancy.
September 17th, 2008 at 1:32 pm
I once made the goofiest shot ever, well, maybe the second or third goofiest but any way.
Out on Santa Cruz Island, stalking to about 25 yards of this monster black ramboulette ram. I crouched behind a big rock as I slowly came up to a kneeling position all the while pulling to full draw.
I aim, then release and Thwack-crack-skip-skip…. What the heck just happened? I say out loud, as my arrow skipped out at a crazy angle upon the ground while the ram went prancing away and over the next ridge.
My bottom limb had slammed into a small 3″ protrusion which I hadn’t noticed in my zeal for harvesting that big brute!
Come to think of it, there were more than three incidents of the likes of that story and most of them I still laugh about.
September 17th, 2008 at 5:38 pm
Man, that is rough.
I like the part about videotaping too – last time I tried to videotape something in the duck blind (for you/JHO, as a matter of fact), ducks kept flying over. Sometimes recording and hunting don’t mix!
September 18th, 2008 at 5:29 am
Michael, that sounds like my botched shot on that elk last year. Never saw an arrow behave like that… and apparently neither had the elk. If I’d had a compound and 45 yard range, I could have killed that elk on a second shot (if not the first one).
Holly, I guess that’s the reason most hunting shows rely on a videographer PLUS the hunter. It’s real tough to focus on both the hunt and shooting good footage. Gotta do one or the other.
All in all, it’s another lesson learned. I do think that deer will continue to run this year, and I fully expect my brother or one of his friends to kill it later this season. You can bet I’ll hear about it when it happens, too!
September 18th, 2008 at 9:56 am
Well, minor update.
My brother called me this weekend to tell me he found my deer. He was moving a stand on Friday and smelled it… followed his nose and found what was left of it about 20 yards from where he stopped looking. It’s wicked thick in there with catclaw briars and scrub, so I can understand how he missed it… but it sure bummed me out to find out he was so close.
The more exciting part of the call was to tell me that apparently a bear found the deer first, and a little more investigation suggests that this guy has been living there for quite some time. I doubt he’ll wait for me to come back at Christmas before he goes after this bruin, but it’s kinda cool to know he’s got at least one on his place. They’re coming back strong in that part of the state.
Anyway, mixed feelings. On the one hand, I am happy to know the deer isn’t wandering around with a festering wound, dying a slow death (although they’re really hardy animals and odds are a non-fatal wound would close and heal relatively well), but on the other hand I feel bad that he went to “waste”… although I guess the bear didn’t think it was a waste at all.
September 22nd, 2008 at 5:30 pm
[...] some real-time examples? My little NC buck from September is a perfect illustration. My brother and I trailed that deer from the point where I took the [...]
February 17th, 2009 at 6:17 pm
Well even if you didn’t get your trophy, you can tell a great story. Thanks for sharing!
May 6th, 2009 at 2:00 pm
Thanks, Jared, and welcome to the Hog Blog!
May 6th, 2009 at 8:33 pm
[...] was crisscrossed with fresh tracks and trails, it was looking like I’d be bringing home another sad tale of lost game. We’d covered almost every nook and cranny on my brother’s little place, with no [...]
September 14th, 2009 at 5:31 am