Yesterday was a great day to be out hunting. The morning brought cooler temperatures from the humidity and heat. I spent the morning at a bait site near the creek. A young boar appeared from out of nowhere. My heart was jumping and my mind was racing. I drew and shot. High and left. Over his back.
As I walked back to the cabin, I began the mental what if and shoulda. I should have waited to be more calm, I could have leaned in more, I did not take... and then it came to me. The graditude of it. I was able to get a shot at a boar. I was able to have the morning, the cooler temperature, the joy of being in the outdoors. Maybe it is the years of bowhunting growing on me, or just a real sense of gratitude for the opportunity, but I recovered from my mental anguish quicker than usual.
I shot some arrows at the cabin into the bank along the pond. As I shot, I remebered a recent conversation with Nate Steen in which he said he holds a longbow "like a hammer". I put more into it, gripping the bow tighter with my two bottom fingers. Down the middle, right on the money.
My hunting partners had other obligations that led me to hunt alone in the evening. I took the same stand and waited. The wind had picked up considerably, and I thought to myself if this will die down the game will move. A peace and smile came over me, and a sense of wonder and closeness. I wear a cross on a necklace that my mother gave me and when I pray, I grasp it with my thumb and first two fingers. It just seemed okay, something that I had not done in awhile.
I heard the gentle but telling sound of crunching leaves below me. A deer. A forkhorn stepped out right below me and to the left on the trail. I tensed my hand and on the string as my heart leaped in my chest. Then I thought, why am I getting so excited, he is not a legal deer. I watched the forkhorn jump through the partly downed barbed wire fence, and begin to nibble on browse. Just 15 or so yards away, I smiled and truely enjoyed his precence.
The buck shot his head up and we heard the tell-tale sound of hogs squealing. The buck began to walk off. I watched him go, and thought in a few years, just a few years. I stood up knowing the hogs would come into the bait. The young boar appeared, the guy from this morning, I thought "second chance"?
Then another hog appeared, a sow with only one ear. I beagn to set my grip and put tension on the string when I saw the sapling down the trail swaying back and forth. What is coming? Wait Jeff, be patient. The boar stepped out, high backed, bristled black hair. The other hog looked like dwarf hogs compared to him.
I waited for the opportunity. My heart began to race, my mind got to going. I thought to myself, just slow down Jeff, breathe, relax. The boar stepped quartering away, wait for the leg to move forward, there it is. My bowhand set in on the lifeline, I gripped the handle, the tension began on the string as my pinky came back, my thumb depressed it sending the signal to start the swing draw. Up came the bow, back to anchor, slight pause, the arrow was away! I watched as the white fletching spun, time was slowed, the arrow apearing low and right behind the shoulder, Heart Shot!
The boar grunted and ran into the thicket. There was all kinds of racket and then the squeal, then grunts, then the noise of other hogs running, then silence. Was he done? I waited as the moment was setting in with me. "Wait a little longer" I murmured to myself. I then thought about my prayer and a smile came over me.
There was blood as soon as I entered the thicket. There was the broken wood shaft, bloodied. More blood. More blood. I could not track wear the hog had gone due the thicket. I knew the area and an opening to get around the thick. I doubled back and came in the thicket from the other direction. My thoughts were I would cross the blood trail. I noticed something black under a tree. Is that him?
My hand went up and withdrew and arrow and placed it on the longbow without hesitation. No problem with putting another one in him if needed. As a crept forward no movement. I saw a tail and the rump. I paused and watched. No movement. I knew he was done. I approached and realized just how big he was. I put my longbow down and snapped some photos. What a feeling.
I got him drug out of the thicket, slowly and with lots of breaks. My back ached in such a good way. I skinned him in the light of my headlights and dulled my knife on the coarseness of the sand filled hair. An evening to remember.
As I drove home, My mind kept thinking to myself that we have gifts in store for us along the journey, that are not on our time-table. I thought about my earlier graditude, and my serenity on the stand. I thought of acceptance, peace, and the smile that the sunrise and sunset bring in me. I kept saying to myself "I love bowhunting, man, I love bowhunting".
Longbows & Short Shots,
Jeff Schulz
As I walked back to the cabin, I began the mental what if and shoulda. I should have waited to be more calm, I could have leaned in more, I did not take... and then it came to me. The graditude of it. I was able to get a shot at a boar. I was able to have the morning, the cooler temperature, the joy of being in the outdoors. Maybe it is the years of bowhunting growing on me, or just a real sense of gratitude for the opportunity, but I recovered from my mental anguish quicker than usual.
I shot some arrows at the cabin into the bank along the pond. As I shot, I remebered a recent conversation with Nate Steen in which he said he holds a longbow "like a hammer". I put more into it, gripping the bow tighter with my two bottom fingers. Down the middle, right on the money.
My hunting partners had other obligations that led me to hunt alone in the evening. I took the same stand and waited. The wind had picked up considerably, and I thought to myself if this will die down the game will move. A peace and smile came over me, and a sense of wonder and closeness. I wear a cross on a necklace that my mother gave me and when I pray, I grasp it with my thumb and first two fingers. It just seemed okay, something that I had not done in awhile.
I heard the gentle but telling sound of crunching leaves below me. A deer. A forkhorn stepped out right below me and to the left on the trail. I tensed my hand and on the string as my heart leaped in my chest. Then I thought, why am I getting so excited, he is not a legal deer. I watched the forkhorn jump through the partly downed barbed wire fence, and begin to nibble on browse. Just 15 or so yards away, I smiled and truely enjoyed his precence.
The buck shot his head up and we heard the tell-tale sound of hogs squealing. The buck began to walk off. I watched him go, and thought in a few years, just a few years. I stood up knowing the hogs would come into the bait. The young boar appeared, the guy from this morning, I thought "second chance"?
Then another hog appeared, a sow with only one ear. I beagn to set my grip and put tension on the string when I saw the sapling down the trail swaying back and forth. What is coming? Wait Jeff, be patient. The boar stepped out, high backed, bristled black hair. The other hog looked like dwarf hogs compared to him.
I waited for the opportunity. My heart began to race, my mind got to going. I thought to myself, just slow down Jeff, breathe, relax. The boar stepped quartering away, wait for the leg to move forward, there it is. My bowhand set in on the lifeline, I gripped the handle, the tension began on the string as my pinky came back, my thumb depressed it sending the signal to start the swing draw. Up came the bow, back to anchor, slight pause, the arrow was away! I watched as the white fletching spun, time was slowed, the arrow apearing low and right behind the shoulder, Heart Shot!
The boar grunted and ran into the thicket. There was all kinds of racket and then the squeal, then grunts, then the noise of other hogs running, then silence. Was he done? I waited as the moment was setting in with me. "Wait a little longer" I murmured to myself. I then thought about my prayer and a smile came over me.
There was blood as soon as I entered the thicket. There was the broken wood shaft, bloodied. More blood. More blood. I could not track wear the hog had gone due the thicket. I knew the area and an opening to get around the thick. I doubled back and came in the thicket from the other direction. My thoughts were I would cross the blood trail. I noticed something black under a tree. Is that him?
My hand went up and withdrew and arrow and placed it on the longbow without hesitation. No problem with putting another one in him if needed. As a crept forward no movement. I saw a tail and the rump. I paused and watched. No movement. I knew he was done. I approached and realized just how big he was. I put my longbow down and snapped some photos. What a feeling.
I got him drug out of the thicket, slowly and with lots of breaks. My back ached in such a good way. I skinned him in the light of my headlights and dulled my knife on the coarseness of the sand filled hair. An evening to remember.
As I drove home, My mind kept thinking to myself that we have gifts in store for us along the journey, that are not on our time-table. I thought about my earlier graditude, and my serenity on the stand. I thought of acceptance, peace, and the smile that the sunrise and sunset bring in me. I kept saying to myself "I love bowhunting, man, I love bowhunting".
Longbows & Short Shots,
Jeff Schulz
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