Post by phil46 on Feb 25, 2022 6:13:35 GMT -6
One of Those Days
It was in the mid 1990’s. I had only been back in traditional archery a short while. I was hunting down in North Carolina near The Devil’s Tramping Grounds (a tale for a dark stormy night). I had hunted Friday afternoon on my father-in-law’s place and taken a nice doe. I was shooting my Massie Longhorn longbow, 55 lbs at 28”. I was shooting Port Orford cedar shafts with a Magnus 160 grain 2-blade head
Saturday morning before daylight I hiked into a good spot where we had been seeing a lot of deer in an oak grove. We already had a 16 foot ladder-stand set up so I crawled into it. I had neglected to replace the arrow I used Friday afternoon so I only had 5 arrows in my quiver. At about 7:10 a nice doe came in. She was about 50 yards out when I first spotted her and she was browsing her way toward me. I managed to stand up and get set for a shot. She continued slowly browsing toward me and after about 10 minutes she turned broadside to me, at about 18 yards. This was within my comfort zone, so I picked a spot, came to anchor and released the string. The shot felt good, but my bottom limb ticked a tree limb I had not sufficiently trimmed and the arrow dove low, just creasing her across the bottom of her chest. Oh well, I still had 4 arrows in my quiver and the morning was still young.
I sat back down and tried to relax. About 5 minutes later another doe surprised me by showing up from the direction I was not expecting, as it was somewhat downwind. She was only about 12 yards in an almost perfect broadside when I first spotted her. I knew I couldn’t get away with much movement, so standing up was not an option. I managed to turn slightly in my seat, and since I regularly practice from a sitting position, I felt confident that I could make the shot. I picked a spot and came to anchor. I released the string and watched as the arrow sailed harmlessly just over her back. By now I’m getting a bit flustered. But my quiver still held 3 arrows.
I leaned back in my seat and tried to settle myself down. I figured that my morning was pretty well shot, but it was a beautiful day to be sitting in a tree. It’s nice and cool with a gentle breeze. I sat there and watched the squirrels busily gather acorns and bury them. About 15 minutes later I hear something off to my left. I slowly turn my head and see a nice 6 pointer about 40 yards out. I manage to stand without spooking him. After a few minutes of watching him crunch acorns he had worked into about 15 yards. He was slightly quartering away, but offered a decent angle for a shot. Again, I picked a spot and came to anchor. I released the string in what felt like a perfect shot. What the he**, the arrow sliced the air an inch or so over his withers. By now I’m experiencing a major meltdown. 2 arrows left!
I settled down in my seat and started reviewing the missed shots in my mind to see if I can determine what I’ve been doing wrong. I think, on the last shot I didn’t bend at the waist. I’ve probably spooked every deer in the area but it’s still a few hours until I’m to meet my brother for lunch so I decide to stay in my tree. A few minutes later and I again hear something to my left. I slowly turn my head and see a doe in almost the exact spot where I had first spotted the 6-pointer a few minutes earlier. Again I manage to stand and get into position. She follows almost the exact trail that the buck had followed, but turned off when she was about 18 yards out. She stopped broadside and I got ready for a shot. I picked a spot and remembered to bend at the waist. I came to a good solid anchor and released the string only to have the arrow deflect off an unseen twig and pass harmlessly in front of the deer’s chest. Deer 4 – Phillip 0. Ok, now I have 1 arrow left.
At this point I’m seriously considering banging my head against the tree trunk and heading off in search of a stiff jolt or two of Jack Daniels. Instead, I decide I might as well spend the rest of the morning sitting in that tree. I put my 5th and final arrow on the string and lean back. Just a few minutes later I spot movement in the brush out in front of me. It’s another doe and she’s browsing toward me. She’s coming straight toward me so I’m afraid to try and stand up. She starts acting nervous and turns broadside at about 15 yards with her head behind a tree. I mentally review my shot process as I pick a spot and come to anchor. I release the string and watch as she runs off. She covers about 30 yards and I see her crash. I climb out of the tree and pick up all my arrows including the one that had just sliced through the doe’s heart.
It was in the mid 1990’s. I had only been back in traditional archery a short while. I was hunting down in North Carolina near The Devil’s Tramping Grounds (a tale for a dark stormy night). I had hunted Friday afternoon on my father-in-law’s place and taken a nice doe. I was shooting my Massie Longhorn longbow, 55 lbs at 28”. I was shooting Port Orford cedar shafts with a Magnus 160 grain 2-blade head
Saturday morning before daylight I hiked into a good spot where we had been seeing a lot of deer in an oak grove. We already had a 16 foot ladder-stand set up so I crawled into it. I had neglected to replace the arrow I used Friday afternoon so I only had 5 arrows in my quiver. At about 7:10 a nice doe came in. She was about 50 yards out when I first spotted her and she was browsing her way toward me. I managed to stand up and get set for a shot. She continued slowly browsing toward me and after about 10 minutes she turned broadside to me, at about 18 yards. This was within my comfort zone, so I picked a spot, came to anchor and released the string. The shot felt good, but my bottom limb ticked a tree limb I had not sufficiently trimmed and the arrow dove low, just creasing her across the bottom of her chest. Oh well, I still had 4 arrows in my quiver and the morning was still young.
I sat back down and tried to relax. About 5 minutes later another doe surprised me by showing up from the direction I was not expecting, as it was somewhat downwind. She was only about 12 yards in an almost perfect broadside when I first spotted her. I knew I couldn’t get away with much movement, so standing up was not an option. I managed to turn slightly in my seat, and since I regularly practice from a sitting position, I felt confident that I could make the shot. I picked a spot and came to anchor. I released the string and watched as the arrow sailed harmlessly just over her back. By now I’m getting a bit flustered. But my quiver still held 3 arrows.
I leaned back in my seat and tried to settle myself down. I figured that my morning was pretty well shot, but it was a beautiful day to be sitting in a tree. It’s nice and cool with a gentle breeze. I sat there and watched the squirrels busily gather acorns and bury them. About 15 minutes later I hear something off to my left. I slowly turn my head and see a nice 6 pointer about 40 yards out. I manage to stand without spooking him. After a few minutes of watching him crunch acorns he had worked into about 15 yards. He was slightly quartering away, but offered a decent angle for a shot. Again, I picked a spot and came to anchor. I released the string in what felt like a perfect shot. What the he**, the arrow sliced the air an inch or so over his withers. By now I’m experiencing a major meltdown. 2 arrows left!
I settled down in my seat and started reviewing the missed shots in my mind to see if I can determine what I’ve been doing wrong. I think, on the last shot I didn’t bend at the waist. I’ve probably spooked every deer in the area but it’s still a few hours until I’m to meet my brother for lunch so I decide to stay in my tree. A few minutes later and I again hear something to my left. I slowly turn my head and see a doe in almost the exact spot where I had first spotted the 6-pointer a few minutes earlier. Again I manage to stand and get into position. She follows almost the exact trail that the buck had followed, but turned off when she was about 18 yards out. She stopped broadside and I got ready for a shot. I picked a spot and remembered to bend at the waist. I came to a good solid anchor and released the string only to have the arrow deflect off an unseen twig and pass harmlessly in front of the deer’s chest. Deer 4 – Phillip 0. Ok, now I have 1 arrow left.
At this point I’m seriously considering banging my head against the tree trunk and heading off in search of a stiff jolt or two of Jack Daniels. Instead, I decide I might as well spend the rest of the morning sitting in that tree. I put my 5th and final arrow on the string and lean back. Just a few minutes later I spot movement in the brush out in front of me. It’s another doe and she’s browsing toward me. She’s coming straight toward me so I’m afraid to try and stand up. She starts acting nervous and turns broadside at about 15 yards with her head behind a tree. I mentally review my shot process as I pick a spot and come to anchor. I release the string and watch as she runs off. She covers about 30 yards and I see her crash. I climb out of the tree and pick up all my arrows including the one that had just sliced through the doe’s heart.