It has been dry here so I was worried that it would be a repeat of my humble pie day two weeks ago, so I rigged up some quiet walking with two pairs of socks and inserts from my boots. I started hiking about an hour before shooting light so I could sit on a trail I felt might be promising – wrong. But as I hiked in the dark I jumped a herd of elk and was able to see a satellite bull right at first light that had stuck around to look for stray cows. And after sitting at the trail I hiked, ever so slowly, up the mountain to sit in the area I should have shot at the buck last week. While sitting there from noon to about two, I was visited by some elk, 5 cows and a spike that decided to graze about 15 to 30 yards from me for a couple of minutes until a cow got a whiff of me. Fun, but I can’t shoot an elk. After deciding that the deer weren’t going to pass through there again, I headed back to the other side of the mountain.
Now, it was nearing 5 o’clock and I had yet to see a deer. Slightly beginning to fear being skunked on the last day, I kind of said a little prayer in my head “Please, Heavenly Father give me another chance, all I need to see is one buck. If I screw it up again, I will just have to live with that.”
As I worked down between two openings I stopped in a deer bed on a bench. As I stood there contemplating that a deer was probably bedded there that morning, I caught movement down hill from me, the movement carried antlers. “That’s about forty yards” I said, as I attached my release, pulled back anchored and released. The shot looked good and I watched him run about 50 yards and stop where I could just see its hind quarters. Did I hit him? I thought I saw my arrow fly through the air after two bounds, so I figured yes, I’d hit him but it must have been in the shoulder. As I watched him through the bino’s he turned as if to walk away, but then he stumbled and fell out of my view. I couldn’t believe it; I had just killed a buck with my bow. I looked up, uttered a grateful “Thank you Heavenly Father” and took out the cell phone to call Morgan – in a whisper of course. This all took place in a minute and a half or less - seeing the deer to watching it fall. After whispering to Morgan and Sage, I walked down to find out what I had shot – a young 3-point still in velvet. The shot was just on the back side of both front quarters, ruining a little meat, but I couldn’t have been happier.
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