My grandfather bought 100 acres in far northwest Anderson county in the mid 1970's, on an escarpment above the trinity river bottom. As a family, we have groomed this property to be a sanctuary for wildlife. We founded a wildlife cooperative with a few neighbors in the late 90's and now have over 2000 acres of conjoined participating neighbors, which is a challenge in an area loaded with small properties. Since this occurred, we have slowly seen the quality of deer increase.
Fast forward to two years ago, and I decided to enroll in grad school. Since then, I have had to sneak in hunting trips between full time work and school, which included Saturday morning classes. As you can imagine, hunting trips have been few and far between, and it has been taxing on my mental health. But the end of the horizon was in sight in September when I started my semester, as I would finish my degree just before thanksgiving.
I hunted hard the last two weekends with my bow, knowing that we had some quality deer and some less than desirable mature bucks that needed to be harvested. My main goal was a mature buck with the bow, as releasing an arrow would be good for the soul. After hunting trails leading to feeders and watching activity last weekend, It was clear that the deer were paying no attention to corn, as the acorn crop was incredible in our area. I spent last Sunday afternoon brushing in a pop up in greenbrier thicket 35 yards from a very large oak in our pasture that was loaded with acorns.
This Saturday morning arrived with a southeast wind, which was wrong to hunt that pop-up, so I went and hunted a tripod near a pinch point, and saw quite a bit of activity, but not a mature buck. The wind prevailed Saturday afternoon, which forced me to another stand. Rinse and repeat, same story. This morning, as I stepped out on our deck, The wind had shifted to the southwest. Not ideal for my new setup, by passible. I climbed in not knowing what to expect, but hoping for the best.
Small bucks and does meandered under the oak vacuuming up acorns all morning, making the time pass quickly. About 830, the lone 3 year old buck under the oak snapped his head up and his body language told me a deer he wanted no part in was coming in. I instinctively secured my release to my d-loop, and readied my bow. A beautiful basket racked nine point with a kicker came in started scent checking the does and pushing off the younger bucks. I was back and forth between 4 and 5 on age, but regardless he was mature and a high quality deer for our area. I estimated his range at 30 yards, moved my slider, pulled the bow back and settled my pin. My instincts kicked in from years of practice and everything occurred in slow motion. I watched the arrow dig in just behind the shoulder, and the buck run off out of view with solid blood pumping out of him.
It was a cathartic weekend for me personally, and I was blessed with a wonderful buck and a great weekend with my father. My mind is now refreshed, and I will move to quail hunting with my Setters in west Texas.
Fast forward to two years ago, and I decided to enroll in grad school. Since then, I have had to sneak in hunting trips between full time work and school, which included Saturday morning classes. As you can imagine, hunting trips have been few and far between, and it has been taxing on my mental health. But the end of the horizon was in sight in September when I started my semester, as I would finish my degree just before thanksgiving.
I hunted hard the last two weekends with my bow, knowing that we had some quality deer and some less than desirable mature bucks that needed to be harvested. My main goal was a mature buck with the bow, as releasing an arrow would be good for the soul. After hunting trails leading to feeders and watching activity last weekend, It was clear that the deer were paying no attention to corn, as the acorn crop was incredible in our area. I spent last Sunday afternoon brushing in a pop up in greenbrier thicket 35 yards from a very large oak in our pasture that was loaded with acorns.
This Saturday morning arrived with a southeast wind, which was wrong to hunt that pop-up, so I went and hunted a tripod near a pinch point, and saw quite a bit of activity, but not a mature buck. The wind prevailed Saturday afternoon, which forced me to another stand. Rinse and repeat, same story. This morning, as I stepped out on our deck, The wind had shifted to the southwest. Not ideal for my new setup, by passible. I climbed in not knowing what to expect, but hoping for the best.
Small bucks and does meandered under the oak vacuuming up acorns all morning, making the time pass quickly. About 830, the lone 3 year old buck under the oak snapped his head up and his body language told me a deer he wanted no part in was coming in. I instinctively secured my release to my d-loop, and readied my bow. A beautiful basket racked nine point with a kicker came in started scent checking the does and pushing off the younger bucks. I was back and forth between 4 and 5 on age, but regardless he was mature and a high quality deer for our area. I estimated his range at 30 yards, moved my slider, pulled the bow back and settled my pin. My instincts kicked in from years of practice and everything occurred in slow motion. I watched the arrow dig in just behind the shoulder, and the buck run off out of view with solid blood pumping out of him.
It was a cathartic weekend for me personally, and I was blessed with a wonderful buck and a great weekend with my father. My mind is now refreshed, and I will move to quail hunting with my Setters in west Texas.
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