Oct 8 was a good day to be in the woods. It was just after daylight, and I had been in my climber for less than 20 minutes. Movement caught my eye and I looked up to see a spike and a young 8 coming my way. I had bought a new Matthews this season, and was eager to put some meat on the ground. I decided the spike would get it. he makes it to 40yrd coming in on a string, when out of nowhere, he spooks and takes off. The young 8 is just as confused as me and slowly walks away. Two uneventful hours pass, and all hell breaks loose. A doe comes running full blast. Zigging and zagging, tearing thru the thicket. A wide 10 is right on her tail, chasing her hard. They bust out of the thicket and dart right passed me at 30yrds. It happened so fast. I wasn't ready. Never even got to draw my bow. All of a sudden, another buck comes tearing thru, chasing the other two. And he is way bigger than the first buck. He is coming fast, but this time I'm ready. I draw immediately and mouth grunt him to a stop at 30 yrds. He stops right behind a tree, no shot, he takes off. I grunt louder and he stops again, 50 yrds quarting away and looks behind him. A pine tree is covering most of his front shoulder. I want to, but know Im too shaken to make this shot. I let my bow down and watch my arrow take a 10yrd nose dive, and he's gone.
Fast forward a couple of weeks, same spot, upper 40's, 20 mph winds and drizzling rain. I'm miserable in my climber and at 9 I decided to get down and sneak around the edges of the thicket. I had been sneaking for about 45 min, and made it about 200 yrds, when I see movement in the thicket, 15 yrds in front of me. I see horns, big ones. It was the first time all season that I had left the new Matthews at home and brought the crossbow. The moment the scope came to my eye the buck cocked his head over for a better look at me and the cross hairs were right next to his throat patch. My finger acted before my brain, and I pulled the trigger. I heard the pop and he took off. I was instantly kicking my self for not trying to drop down into his vitals. But I knew it was the only shot I was going to get, and I took it. I also knew I had just drilled one of my best bucks ever.
In the end the muzzy trocar broke his neck and left a blood trail a blind man could follow. And he was the same buck I had missed my chance at weeks earlier.
Fast forward a couple of weeks, same spot, upper 40's, 20 mph winds and drizzling rain. I'm miserable in my climber and at 9 I decided to get down and sneak around the edges of the thicket. I had been sneaking for about 45 min, and made it about 200 yrds, when I see movement in the thicket, 15 yrds in front of me. I see horns, big ones. It was the first time all season that I had left the new Matthews at home and brought the crossbow. The moment the scope came to my eye the buck cocked his head over for a better look at me and the cross hairs were right next to his throat patch. My finger acted before my brain, and I pulled the trigger. I heard the pop and he took off. I was instantly kicking my self for not trying to drop down into his vitals. But I knew it was the only shot I was going to get, and I took it. I also knew I had just drilled one of my best bucks ever.
In the end the muzzy trocar broke his neck and left a blood trail a blind man could follow. And he was the same buck I had missed my chance at weeks earlier.
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