I'm in my second season on a small 120 acre lease to myself in Clay County about fifteen minutes SW of Henrietta. I had a mature buck on cam since last season that I always said I'd take a shot if I ever had a chance to. I named him Crabby Left about a week ago. He looked a little bigger in trail cam pics this season.
He only made one daytime appearance at a feeder last season, and I wasn't there.
He started favoring a feeder about 150 yards from camp this season and was making appearances in daylight. It's frequented by does, and I have chosen not to shoot any of those does for this purpose. I don't see a ton of deer on this little please, and I didn't want to shoot what few does I do have. I had one more sit left before race week and wouldn't be back for a couple of weeks. It literally felt like the last day of hunting season!
He put on a show for a buddy on Saturday who was there to cull a buck we named Shorty Eight. Jay took a few pictures of Crabby Left for me after his job was done, and I even got a pic of Crabby Left (in the back) and Crabby Right at the feeder while Jay was sitting there in the blind. He was a sight to behold. He was mature. He was the boss of this place.
If his pattern would hold, I'd be sitting there Sunday morning to greet him.
Bucks have been chasing does pretty steady for the past two weeks. The rut can be loads of fun to watch but also frustrating when you need one to be in bow range long enough to get a shot off. The two minute walk to the stand from camp was fairly uneventful. I run a Covert cam on this feeder, and I only had pics of one dink bunk overnight. I climbed into the blind around 6:30 am and got situated for the wait until shooting light. I heard corn crunching around 7 am and could see a body but couldn't tell which deer it was. It was just out of camera range! Something walked by the blind about ten yards to my right and stopped. Whatever was at the feeder grunted and took off after it. I could hear soft grunts and running through the trees all around me. Good start to the morning even if it was in the dark.
This guy came in like clockwork at 7:15 am and bellied up to the hand corn I had spread just to the right of the feeder. He doesn't use the trails the other deer use. He prefers to walk in right through the low branches of an oak tree right behind the feeder. I had the Tribute up and release was clipped on. He was there a little too early. While I was good to shoot legally, I still couldn't see well enough in the woods to ethically shoot. I had to wait and hope he stuck around long enough for better daylight. Three or four minutes later, I could see well enough for a shot. I came to full draw undetected fifteen yards away in the Double Bull. I had him in my sight window slightly quartering to me. He threw his head up and looked back over his right shoulder. He saw a doe walking through the trees about forty yards out. He trotted off after her and the chase ensued. I let down, and the shakes kicked in. Would he be back? Was that my one opportunity of the morning?
I was entertained for the next ten minutes or so by deer chasing left and right about 75 yards out from me in the thick oaks. Deer started filtering into range about 7:30. A couple of smaller bucks were first in. I see a larger body back behind them and figure it's him again when he veers right and goes to take the trail he favors. I again raise my bow up, clipped on and waited patiently. He took his sweet time, stopping every couple of steps to survey the area. He finally made it to the hand corn again. Once again I came to full draw the first chance I got and settled the sight window on him. He was facing me like before. This dude was a smart one. I swear I was living out the movie "Groundhog Day." After only a few quick bites of corn, he threw his head up and took off after a doe again. Are you kidding me?! I let down again and helplessly watched as he ran around in the woods chasing every which way. I had a throbbing headache now from the adrenaline. At full draw TWICE in ten minutes on a target buck. I feel the surge of adrenaline all over again just typing it.
I counted six different bucks the next thirty minutes all chasing the same couple of does. They were all vocalizing. I could hear deer grunting and couldn't see them. An occasional doe would swing by for a quick bite, but she never got to settle in before being chased by a small buck. I never saw Crabby Left in the mix. I had no idea if he had chased a doe off to the south part of the place or if he was nearby. I just had to sit and hope he'd give me a third chance.
At 8 am, the younger Crabby Right came into the feeder. He was shortly joined by a spike and smaller fork horn. I thought OK, they're done chasing and it's time to eat. Once again I saw a larger, wider body snaking his way through the trees headed up the trail Crabby Right likes to take. He came back a third time! He walked in more directly this time and I was at full draw, waiting and ready. He stepped to his right. I followed him in the sight window. He shuffled to his right. I followed. Was this my best shot? I lined him up. He shuffled to his right. Are you kidding me? Be still for a few seconds! I lined him up again. I paused to make sure this was it. One last chance. No? You're good? I'm good. Let's do this. He stepped forward as I tipped the release, and I watched in horror as the arrow zipped through him mid body and stuck in the ground ten yards past him. The shot was back! The worst possible scenario besides a clean miss or solid shoulder hit just happened. It wasn't just back...it was high and back. I watched helplessly as he ran through the trees, crashing through small trees and overhanging branches. All was quiet, and I just sat there stunned, looking at my green nock glowing at 25 yards.
I gathered my things and went to go inspect the arrow. I knew I was going to find a paunch covered arrow, and I was sick to my stomach about it. The arrow didn't actually look that bad, and I picked up on no gutty smell at all. That gave me a little hope.
I pulled the arrow and went back to the feeder to look for what blood I could find. I found a small trail of it where he exited the area, and I marked it with some flagging tape. I returned to camp with questions swirling in my head. The shot sequence played over and over in my head, and each time the arrow hit, the disappointment of my mistake punched me in the gut. I was prepared to give him a couple of hours at minimum before slowly taking up the track. I have supreme confidence in my ability to blood trail, and I'd find blood if there was any to find. I did some research and figured at best I had hit liver. The lack of any gut on the arrow gave me more hope than before after what I read on multiple sites. This pic sums up what I best recall about where the arrow hit.
I waited as long as I could. I didn't want to go tromp around all over, but I needed to see if there was much of a blood trail. I figured I could give it a hundred yards or so and not booger the area or bump the buck should I need to call someone with a dog. I picked up the blood trail and followed it fairly well for about fifty yards. It hit a clearing and stayed on a trail the deer use down a small wash and shallow, grassy creek. Blood was thinning and drops were harder to find. I marked last blood three times. I had traveled about 100 yards. This was my comfortable max. I paused and ran through my options. Back out now and call for a dog? I searched the lists. I found one in Montague County about thirty minutes away. I texted him. No reply. I texted another buddy Josh and asked what he knew about dogs in the area. He said he'd look real quick.
I decide to get up to higher ground out of the wash and off the trail so I wouldn't be tempted to keep walking it. I moved up and over about thirty yards and stood there. It was getting warm. I needed to figure something out quick. I looked to my right and couldn't believe my eyes. It appeared to be a buck with his antlers hung up in a cross fence! Are you kidding me?! I cautiously closed the distance in half. At twenty five yards, he looked dead.
I walked up on quite a site. He had managed to wedge himself in between some small, very thorny trees and a fence. I mean he was stuck!
Celebratory texts were made and lots of "thank you Jesus" for prayers answered as I walked back to camp to get the truck and the jaws of life. [emoji3]
It took me thirty minutes to cut him out. His neck was stiff enough to stay up on it's own, so I figured he must have died pretty quick. He was exactly 150 yards from the feeder. I did the best I could with the iPhone timer and my new, handy little Joby Gorillapod.
I didn't spend too much time checking him out. I needed to get him dressed and cooled down with the temps moving quickly into the mid-70's by that time. Upon later inspection, the arrow had completely missed anything gut related. As best I can tell, I hit the very back upper part of the lungs and some liver. Thank goodness for the greatness of the Wasp Jackhammer!
I was on cloud nine. The highest of highs to the lowest of lows and back to the highest of highs in one morning. I had a stress headache from it all. I've never been all too excited about October hunting. It was warm and the mosquitos wore me out the first three weeks of the season. The last two weeks were awesome! I've seen more deer movement in the last two weeks than I saw all of last season.
I'll get through race and embark on the second half of the season with lots of vacation time and a small lease in Montague County in hopes that a bruiser will make a mistake in bow range. Plus I get to guide the wife for her a buck in Clay County! It's been a great season so far. I can't wait to see what the rest of the season holds.
Thanks for reading.
He only made one daytime appearance at a feeder last season, and I wasn't there.
He started favoring a feeder about 150 yards from camp this season and was making appearances in daylight. It's frequented by does, and I have chosen not to shoot any of those does for this purpose. I don't see a ton of deer on this little please, and I didn't want to shoot what few does I do have. I had one more sit left before race week and wouldn't be back for a couple of weeks. It literally felt like the last day of hunting season!
He put on a show for a buddy on Saturday who was there to cull a buck we named Shorty Eight. Jay took a few pictures of Crabby Left for me after his job was done, and I even got a pic of Crabby Left (in the back) and Crabby Right at the feeder while Jay was sitting there in the blind. He was a sight to behold. He was mature. He was the boss of this place.
If his pattern would hold, I'd be sitting there Sunday morning to greet him.
Bucks have been chasing does pretty steady for the past two weeks. The rut can be loads of fun to watch but also frustrating when you need one to be in bow range long enough to get a shot off. The two minute walk to the stand from camp was fairly uneventful. I run a Covert cam on this feeder, and I only had pics of one dink bunk overnight. I climbed into the blind around 6:30 am and got situated for the wait until shooting light. I heard corn crunching around 7 am and could see a body but couldn't tell which deer it was. It was just out of camera range! Something walked by the blind about ten yards to my right and stopped. Whatever was at the feeder grunted and took off after it. I could hear soft grunts and running through the trees all around me. Good start to the morning even if it was in the dark.
This guy came in like clockwork at 7:15 am and bellied up to the hand corn I had spread just to the right of the feeder. He doesn't use the trails the other deer use. He prefers to walk in right through the low branches of an oak tree right behind the feeder. I had the Tribute up and release was clipped on. He was there a little too early. While I was good to shoot legally, I still couldn't see well enough in the woods to ethically shoot. I had to wait and hope he stuck around long enough for better daylight. Three or four minutes later, I could see well enough for a shot. I came to full draw undetected fifteen yards away in the Double Bull. I had him in my sight window slightly quartering to me. He threw his head up and looked back over his right shoulder. He saw a doe walking through the trees about forty yards out. He trotted off after her and the chase ensued. I let down, and the shakes kicked in. Would he be back? Was that my one opportunity of the morning?
I was entertained for the next ten minutes or so by deer chasing left and right about 75 yards out from me in the thick oaks. Deer started filtering into range about 7:30. A couple of smaller bucks were first in. I see a larger body back behind them and figure it's him again when he veers right and goes to take the trail he favors. I again raise my bow up, clipped on and waited patiently. He took his sweet time, stopping every couple of steps to survey the area. He finally made it to the hand corn again. Once again I came to full draw the first chance I got and settled the sight window on him. He was facing me like before. This dude was a smart one. I swear I was living out the movie "Groundhog Day." After only a few quick bites of corn, he threw his head up and took off after a doe again. Are you kidding me?! I let down again and helplessly watched as he ran around in the woods chasing every which way. I had a throbbing headache now from the adrenaline. At full draw TWICE in ten minutes on a target buck. I feel the surge of adrenaline all over again just typing it.
I counted six different bucks the next thirty minutes all chasing the same couple of does. They were all vocalizing. I could hear deer grunting and couldn't see them. An occasional doe would swing by for a quick bite, but she never got to settle in before being chased by a small buck. I never saw Crabby Left in the mix. I had no idea if he had chased a doe off to the south part of the place or if he was nearby. I just had to sit and hope he'd give me a third chance.
At 8 am, the younger Crabby Right came into the feeder. He was shortly joined by a spike and smaller fork horn. I thought OK, they're done chasing and it's time to eat. Once again I saw a larger, wider body snaking his way through the trees headed up the trail Crabby Right likes to take. He came back a third time! He walked in more directly this time and I was at full draw, waiting and ready. He stepped to his right. I followed him in the sight window. He shuffled to his right. I followed. Was this my best shot? I lined him up. He shuffled to his right. Are you kidding me? Be still for a few seconds! I lined him up again. I paused to make sure this was it. One last chance. No? You're good? I'm good. Let's do this. He stepped forward as I tipped the release, and I watched in horror as the arrow zipped through him mid body and stuck in the ground ten yards past him. The shot was back! The worst possible scenario besides a clean miss or solid shoulder hit just happened. It wasn't just back...it was high and back. I watched helplessly as he ran through the trees, crashing through small trees and overhanging branches. All was quiet, and I just sat there stunned, looking at my green nock glowing at 25 yards.
I gathered my things and went to go inspect the arrow. I knew I was going to find a paunch covered arrow, and I was sick to my stomach about it. The arrow didn't actually look that bad, and I picked up on no gutty smell at all. That gave me a little hope.
I pulled the arrow and went back to the feeder to look for what blood I could find. I found a small trail of it where he exited the area, and I marked it with some flagging tape. I returned to camp with questions swirling in my head. The shot sequence played over and over in my head, and each time the arrow hit, the disappointment of my mistake punched me in the gut. I was prepared to give him a couple of hours at minimum before slowly taking up the track. I have supreme confidence in my ability to blood trail, and I'd find blood if there was any to find. I did some research and figured at best I had hit liver. The lack of any gut on the arrow gave me more hope than before after what I read on multiple sites. This pic sums up what I best recall about where the arrow hit.
I waited as long as I could. I didn't want to go tromp around all over, but I needed to see if there was much of a blood trail. I figured I could give it a hundred yards or so and not booger the area or bump the buck should I need to call someone with a dog. I picked up the blood trail and followed it fairly well for about fifty yards. It hit a clearing and stayed on a trail the deer use down a small wash and shallow, grassy creek. Blood was thinning and drops were harder to find. I marked last blood three times. I had traveled about 100 yards. This was my comfortable max. I paused and ran through my options. Back out now and call for a dog? I searched the lists. I found one in Montague County about thirty minutes away. I texted him. No reply. I texted another buddy Josh and asked what he knew about dogs in the area. He said he'd look real quick.
I decide to get up to higher ground out of the wash and off the trail so I wouldn't be tempted to keep walking it. I moved up and over about thirty yards and stood there. It was getting warm. I needed to figure something out quick. I looked to my right and couldn't believe my eyes. It appeared to be a buck with his antlers hung up in a cross fence! Are you kidding me?! I cautiously closed the distance in half. At twenty five yards, he looked dead.
I walked up on quite a site. He had managed to wedge himself in between some small, very thorny trees and a fence. I mean he was stuck!
Celebratory texts were made and lots of "thank you Jesus" for prayers answered as I walked back to camp to get the truck and the jaws of life. [emoji3]
It took me thirty minutes to cut him out. His neck was stiff enough to stay up on it's own, so I figured he must have died pretty quick. He was exactly 150 yards from the feeder. I did the best I could with the iPhone timer and my new, handy little Joby Gorillapod.
I didn't spend too much time checking him out. I needed to get him dressed and cooled down with the temps moving quickly into the mid-70's by that time. Upon later inspection, the arrow had completely missed anything gut related. As best I can tell, I hit the very back upper part of the lungs and some liver. Thank goodness for the greatness of the Wasp Jackhammer!
I was on cloud nine. The highest of highs to the lowest of lows and back to the highest of highs in one morning. I had a stress headache from it all. I've never been all too excited about October hunting. It was warm and the mosquitos wore me out the first three weeks of the season. The last two weeks were awesome! I've seen more deer movement in the last two weeks than I saw all of last season.
I'll get through race and embark on the second half of the season with lots of vacation time and a small lease in Montague County in hopes that a bruiser will make a mistake in bow range. Plus I get to guide the wife for her a buck in Clay County! It's been a great season so far. I can't wait to see what the rest of the season holds.
Thanks for reading.
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