Well, let me tell my story.
As you may all have seen in the 2015 harvest thread, I just added a real nice buck I shot yesterday.
This was in a friends ranch in Mexico.
I first saw this buck last year. He looked pretty much the same but only had 9 points instead of 10. He was already a toad by then, I estimated him to be a 6 y/o last year. A rifle hunter was supposed to get him on the last week of the season, but ended up going home empty handed.
Fast forward to two weekends ago...
I was in a popup blind in the same area we saw him last year and he came out to my hand tossed corn at about 17 yards. I had lost a buck one year before (no nearly as big as this one) because I got him about 3-4" behind the heart area. I never found him. So this time I was going for the front shoulder. I did my part, and shot low like I wanted. But this but ducked and moved back a little and ended up with my arrow way up front in the shoulder.
He broke my arrow within 10 yards of the shot, but I didn't find a drop of blood.
We searched for over 6 hours and called it off. I went the next day looking for buzzards, and couldn't find any. As you may all imagine, I was torn.
I went again last weekend. Hunted Saturday with no luck and on Sunday, he showed up. I couldn't believe my eyes. He was up and walking as if nothing had happened. Not even a light limp or anything. I was even doubting he was the same deer. Well as I got ready to take another swing at him, but the wind blew so hard that it rocked my groundblind and knocked my arrows, that where leaning against the blind, into my chair. The loud noise it made scared everything off and not one deer ever came back the rest of the morning. I then started to think I was being selfish for not taking a wounded deer with the rifle. But well, he was gone anyways.
I couldn't believe I had seen him again.
I went home with a little remorse but I had a good feeling he would stick around.
I told my friend we should go during the week. I wanted to get that buck before someone else did (low fence), or before it died or broke off. You know, everything comes to your mind.
We planned a Thursday trip. Leave Wednesday night after work, do a morning hunt, and be back by noon. Well, My buddy lost his flight and couldn't make it. I was so determined that I left by myself. I got to the ranch by 9:30 pm and did nothing but go to sleep. I didn't even make fire.
I woke up by 3 am ready to rock and roll. I know it was to early, but the anticipation was killing me. So I waited till 5:30 to head on out.
I left the truck a good ways out and walked about 200 yards to the blind.
I took a 1 gallon ziploc bag full of apple scented corn to hand toss and hoped for the best. I settled in the blind and waited for a little light.
At about 7:00 I see this little spike looking my way from a distance and then this big ole boy shows up and starts feeding on my corn.
My heart started pounding hard but I knew what I had to do. It had to be a perfect shot or I wouldn't take it.
I took me 30 minutes to get the opportunity. He went in the brush and came back out and I drew on him two times before I shot.
He suddenly gave me a perfect broadside shot at about 19 yards, front leg slightly forward and looking away from me.
I picked my spot and let her fly.
The grizzly tipped, douglas fir arrow went right where I was looking. And this time, he didn't even duck. Perfect heart shot with a big mule kick that broke my arrow. It all happened so quick that I wasn't sure if it had just happened.
I gave it 30 minutes and went for my broken arrow. He left it on the spot.
the ground was sprayed in red all around.
I followed the blood trail, drop by drop for 20 yards and lost it.
Went on my instinct and searched obvious trails with no luck.
I was starting to get desperate and doubted myself.
Then I remembered an old indian saying (I cant remember who said it) that says white men walk much and see little and the indian walked little and saw much. So I went back to the starting point and got to my knees.
Drop by drop and where I missed it last time there was a cactus on the ground with something that looked like a hoof scrape. So I followed it and 10 yards later I found blood again and then, there he was. He only made it 50 yards away from me. He circled around the opposite side, But I guess I was blinded with excitement.
This big ole boy is going to make a great mount. He's way bigger on his right side that his left. I estimate him to score in the 142-145" area and 7 y/o. But honestly, who cares? He's my trophy regardless of score. And he for sure, will be a buck I will never forget.
"This is the best way to break a pretty arrow".
Btw, I recovered my old broadhead after I quartered him. It went though the shoulder and was buried in his spine.
I hope you all enjoyed it. I sure did.
As you may all have seen in the 2015 harvest thread, I just added a real nice buck I shot yesterday.
This was in a friends ranch in Mexico.
I first saw this buck last year. He looked pretty much the same but only had 9 points instead of 10. He was already a toad by then, I estimated him to be a 6 y/o last year. A rifle hunter was supposed to get him on the last week of the season, but ended up going home empty handed.
Fast forward to two weekends ago...
I was in a popup blind in the same area we saw him last year and he came out to my hand tossed corn at about 17 yards. I had lost a buck one year before (no nearly as big as this one) because I got him about 3-4" behind the heart area. I never found him. So this time I was going for the front shoulder. I did my part, and shot low like I wanted. But this but ducked and moved back a little and ended up with my arrow way up front in the shoulder.
He broke my arrow within 10 yards of the shot, but I didn't find a drop of blood.
We searched for over 6 hours and called it off. I went the next day looking for buzzards, and couldn't find any. As you may all imagine, I was torn.
I went again last weekend. Hunted Saturday with no luck and on Sunday, he showed up. I couldn't believe my eyes. He was up and walking as if nothing had happened. Not even a light limp or anything. I was even doubting he was the same deer. Well as I got ready to take another swing at him, but the wind blew so hard that it rocked my groundblind and knocked my arrows, that where leaning against the blind, into my chair. The loud noise it made scared everything off and not one deer ever came back the rest of the morning. I then started to think I was being selfish for not taking a wounded deer with the rifle. But well, he was gone anyways.
I couldn't believe I had seen him again.
I went home with a little remorse but I had a good feeling he would stick around.
I told my friend we should go during the week. I wanted to get that buck before someone else did (low fence), or before it died or broke off. You know, everything comes to your mind.
We planned a Thursday trip. Leave Wednesday night after work, do a morning hunt, and be back by noon. Well, My buddy lost his flight and couldn't make it. I was so determined that I left by myself. I got to the ranch by 9:30 pm and did nothing but go to sleep. I didn't even make fire.
I woke up by 3 am ready to rock and roll. I know it was to early, but the anticipation was killing me. So I waited till 5:30 to head on out.
I left the truck a good ways out and walked about 200 yards to the blind.
I took a 1 gallon ziploc bag full of apple scented corn to hand toss and hoped for the best. I settled in the blind and waited for a little light.
At about 7:00 I see this little spike looking my way from a distance and then this big ole boy shows up and starts feeding on my corn.
My heart started pounding hard but I knew what I had to do. It had to be a perfect shot or I wouldn't take it.
I took me 30 minutes to get the opportunity. He went in the brush and came back out and I drew on him two times before I shot.
He suddenly gave me a perfect broadside shot at about 19 yards, front leg slightly forward and looking away from me.
I picked my spot and let her fly.
The grizzly tipped, douglas fir arrow went right where I was looking. And this time, he didn't even duck. Perfect heart shot with a big mule kick that broke my arrow. It all happened so quick that I wasn't sure if it had just happened.
I gave it 30 minutes and went for my broken arrow. He left it on the spot.
the ground was sprayed in red all around.
I followed the blood trail, drop by drop for 20 yards and lost it.
Went on my instinct and searched obvious trails with no luck.
I was starting to get desperate and doubted myself.
Then I remembered an old indian saying (I cant remember who said it) that says white men walk much and see little and the indian walked little and saw much. So I went back to the starting point and got to my knees.
Drop by drop and where I missed it last time there was a cactus on the ground with something that looked like a hoof scrape. So I followed it and 10 yards later I found blood again and then, there he was. He only made it 50 yards away from me. He circled around the opposite side, But I guess I was blinded with excitement.
This big ole boy is going to make a great mount. He's way bigger on his right side that his left. I estimate him to score in the 142-145" area and 7 y/o. But honestly, who cares? He's my trophy regardless of score. And he for sure, will be a buck I will never forget.
"This is the best way to break a pretty arrow".
Btw, I recovered my old broadhead after I quartered him. It went though the shoulder and was buried in his spine.
I hope you all enjoyed it. I sure did.
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