I started getting pictures of this deer a couple months ago. He was odd and we really had no idea if he was a stag or if he was just goofy. After he shed his velvet, we ruled out the stag theory, he showed a little more age, and we decided he needed to go. I love odd deer and decided he would be the deer I would start out hunting.
Opening weekend of bow season brought on a flood which made getting around on the ranch tough. I hunted Goofballs area opening morning with only seeing a couple of other young bucks but no Goofball. The wind switched directions and I spent the rest of the weekend hunting a different blind in a different area only seeing some doe and a couple young bucks.
This weekend, I drove to the ranch early Friday morning planning on filling some feeders and pulling cards with plenty of time to spare for the evening hunt. After checking cards, I noticed Goofball had really became a regular customer at one particular stand in the evenings.
The southwest wind was perfect for that stand so things were coming together. After a quick shower, I was loaded up and heading to the stand. As I bowhunter, you sometimes just have that feeling. I knew it was going to happen today. After getting in the popup, I drew my bow several times making sure everything was right. Tben for the wait. I surfed TBH, texted some friends, and sweated. It was bad hot but the wind was right and I had high hopes. At 6:30, the feeder spun. I was so sure things were about to go down, I took my bow off the holder and got ready. Ha.....time ticked by and nothing. A covey of quail, some dove, and a couple green jays but no goofball. At 7:15 I put my bow back on the hook, grabbed my phone, and texted my brother in law letting him know that I was smelling a skunk....
As I set my phone back down, I look up to see ole fat and happy Goofball, throw himself over the feed pen and start eating corn. I think I really laughed to myself some as the bow came off the hook again. As I got ready, Goofball acted like he didnt like something and turned, walking back to the edge of the pen. I did not want to give him the chance to leave so I slid my bow back to full draw, leaned into the window, and took a deep breath. Goofball was in the perfect stance, front leg forward, and a little quartering away. The pin settled in the "pocket" and crack. He never knew what happened as the Rage tipped FMJ blew through his shoulders. He flipped into the feed pen, got a little hung up, flipped over the top of it, into a prickly pear, and off into the blackbrush. Within 3 seconds, all was quiet.
Then it starts. The shakes, the second guessing. I aimed too low, he was on edge but didnt duck. It looked good but it is late, did you really see where it went? Then the silent prayer, just asking that it was a good shot and I held up my end of the deal. I wait about 5 minutes and get out of the stand. Its getting dark and my light is in the truck. I walk over to the pen to find this.
And this
Happy, happy, happy!!!
Though in the fading light I couldnt tell exactly which trail he left on, I was confident that what I saw at the shot was correct, a very solid hit.
I walkback to the truck for my light and take a bath in Off. The mesquitos were horrible in the brush after dark. I get back to the impact site and realize, he did not leave on a trail. The black brush was dripping red where he bulldozed his way through the tangle of thorns. Other than being thick, the trail is easy to follow. Every step he took sprayed blood. On the ground, on the brush, and there he was.... About 40 yards from the pen, Goofball was down.
I called my brother and sister in law who were at camp. Told them I was headed in to pick them up as a little help with the drag would be appreciated. We went back out to the pasture, let my sister in law practice her blood trailing skills, and drug Goofball back through the tangle for his photo op at the truck.
After pictures and a special 16 oz celebritory beverage, we headed back to camp to get him cleaned up and into the cooler.
I am still not sure why Goofball got me so excited. Maybe because he is odd, he may be the most unique whitetail I ever kill. Maybe it is because I did not get a deer with my bow last year or maybe it is just because I set out to hunt him and it worked. It really doesnt matter though. I will probably never kill another deer like Goofball, or be this excited about a deer that wont even gross 70". Like I always say, shoot what makes you
.
PS: Please disregard any misspellings or goofy gramar. This was all typed on my Iphone from the porch at the ranch and after all the typing, proofreading is not an option. I will post real camera pictures when I get to a real computer. Sorry for the long read, but Goofball deserved it.
Opening weekend of bow season brought on a flood which made getting around on the ranch tough. I hunted Goofballs area opening morning with only seeing a couple of other young bucks but no Goofball. The wind switched directions and I spent the rest of the weekend hunting a different blind in a different area only seeing some doe and a couple young bucks.
This weekend, I drove to the ranch early Friday morning planning on filling some feeders and pulling cards with plenty of time to spare for the evening hunt. After checking cards, I noticed Goofball had really became a regular customer at one particular stand in the evenings.
The southwest wind was perfect for that stand so things were coming together. After a quick shower, I was loaded up and heading to the stand. As I bowhunter, you sometimes just have that feeling. I knew it was going to happen today. After getting in the popup, I drew my bow several times making sure everything was right. Tben for the wait. I surfed TBH, texted some friends, and sweated. It was bad hot but the wind was right and I had high hopes. At 6:30, the feeder spun. I was so sure things were about to go down, I took my bow off the holder and got ready. Ha.....time ticked by and nothing. A covey of quail, some dove, and a couple green jays but no goofball. At 7:15 I put my bow back on the hook, grabbed my phone, and texted my brother in law letting him know that I was smelling a skunk....
As I set my phone back down, I look up to see ole fat and happy Goofball, throw himself over the feed pen and start eating corn. I think I really laughed to myself some as the bow came off the hook again. As I got ready, Goofball acted like he didnt like something and turned, walking back to the edge of the pen. I did not want to give him the chance to leave so I slid my bow back to full draw, leaned into the window, and took a deep breath. Goofball was in the perfect stance, front leg forward, and a little quartering away. The pin settled in the "pocket" and crack. He never knew what happened as the Rage tipped FMJ blew through his shoulders. He flipped into the feed pen, got a little hung up, flipped over the top of it, into a prickly pear, and off into the blackbrush. Within 3 seconds, all was quiet.
Then it starts. The shakes, the second guessing. I aimed too low, he was on edge but didnt duck. It looked good but it is late, did you really see where it went? Then the silent prayer, just asking that it was a good shot and I held up my end of the deal. I wait about 5 minutes and get out of the stand. Its getting dark and my light is in the truck. I walk over to the pen to find this.
And this
Happy, happy, happy!!!
Though in the fading light I couldnt tell exactly which trail he left on, I was confident that what I saw at the shot was correct, a very solid hit.
I walkback to the truck for my light and take a bath in Off. The mesquitos were horrible in the brush after dark. I get back to the impact site and realize, he did not leave on a trail. The black brush was dripping red where he bulldozed his way through the tangle of thorns. Other than being thick, the trail is easy to follow. Every step he took sprayed blood. On the ground, on the brush, and there he was.... About 40 yards from the pen, Goofball was down.
I called my brother and sister in law who were at camp. Told them I was headed in to pick them up as a little help with the drag would be appreciated. We went back out to the pasture, let my sister in law practice her blood trailing skills, and drug Goofball back through the tangle for his photo op at the truck.
After pictures and a special 16 oz celebritory beverage, we headed back to camp to get him cleaned up and into the cooler.
I am still not sure why Goofball got me so excited. Maybe because he is odd, he may be the most unique whitetail I ever kill. Maybe it is because I did not get a deer with my bow last year or maybe it is just because I set out to hunt him and it worked. It really doesnt matter though. I will probably never kill another deer like Goofball, or be this excited about a deer that wont even gross 70". Like I always say, shoot what makes you
.PS: Please disregard any misspellings or goofy gramar. This was all typed on my Iphone from the porch at the ranch and after all the typing, proofreading is not an option. I will post real camera pictures when I get to a real computer. Sorry for the long read, but Goofball deserved it.
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