since Ric (finelyshedded) inquired about the buck I posted a picture of in the "show them to me" thread", I've been on a bit of a stroll down memory lane. I don't normally put stuff like this out there. My archery hunting pursuits are something I prefer to keep mostly to myself and my close friends. Not that there is much worth talking about, but whatever is, is not the kind of stuff I wish to share with the world. there is plenty of that taking up bandwidth already. The buck in question here was killed in 2010. 2010 was one probably the single best year of bowhunting whitetail deer that I've ever had. This is how it started, at the very end of the 2009-10 season.
On January 28, 2010 I managed to kill the single most elusive and annoying whitetail doe that I've ever encountered, and I say that with all due respect. Every time I saw this particular doe with her clueless button buck fawn, she busted me. She winded me, cut my trail on the ground, saw me, heard me, felt my presence with her sixth sense, got signals beamed from aliens, you name it, and she nailed me that way at least once. this deer nailed me at least 6 times in three different stands. Those are just the times I saw her and knew I had been made. Who knows how many times she avoided me without me even knowing? By the third time she nailed me I nicknamed her the "Sneaky Doe", and made it my mission to put her in my freezer and regain some of the diginity that she had repeatedly robbed me of. Like people, some deer are just plain smarter than others, and this was one smart deer. Extremely wary and alert, but never panicky; the artful dodger. She was just plain good at being a deer, and making a monkey out of me for the entirety of the the season.
I had been waiting several days for a coveted light, straight west wind to be able to hunt my best stand. The evening before, my friend and squirrel dog guru Dean Torges called me and asked me to come and squirrel hunt with him and his dogs. I politely declined, and made my case for wanting to climb into a treestand instead. He understood because he was bowhunter, too. Still, he had to jab me in the ribs by offering to bet me he would kill more squirrels than I would deer. I retorted that it was a lousy bet for me to take and he knew it. The odds of laying a whitetail low with stick bow in the last week of January are quite long. I declined to take that bet, regretfully.
Despite turning down a bad bet, I was confident in my plan. The sky was crystal clear, there was an inch of two of snow on the ground, and the air temperarature was right at 20 degrees. The forecasted light west wind held up. I snuck in there in the dark and got set up, hoping the deer moved in the first hour of light or so, before I started to get cold and stiffen up. Sometimes things just go the way you script it in your head. I was in the stand a little less than an hour when I spotted some movement. Two deer coming toward me on a well used trail that passes within 10 yards of my tree. As they got to within about 40 yards, coming at me head on, I saw who it was. I was on my feet, bow in hand. The wind was perfect, and they would have to walk past me and go 40 more yards before cutting my trail. I was hidden damn good in this stand from deer approaching from their direction as I had decorated the stand considerably with cut oak branches full of leaves, and I had shot several deer from this spot in the last few years, so I knew I could avoid detection if the wind held up. The button buck was leading the way, but they stopped about 20 yards out in front of me for a look down the trail, and I'll be damned if she did not look directly up at me for no good reason! I thought to myself, "well fuck, here we go again, lol." I was not moving, and in full camo in a good hiding spot. I really don't know if I fooled her or if she simply took pity on me and decided to offer herself for the taking. Her buck fawn was moving past me as her gaze went away from me and she started coming. When she was just past me, still nearly broadside, I shot her walking at a little less than 30 feet, and my arrow found its mark. A perfect double lung shot, tight to the shoulder. She bolted about 50 yards, staggered and fell over. After a brief instant of being very pleased with myself, I realized what I had just done. I don't usually get too choked up over dead animals, but this one was different. I had a very long moment of silence as I stood over the now lifeless body of a deer that had given me a very amusing season and a good dose of humility. I was sad that it was over, but the odds were always in her favor, and not by accident.
After I got her dressed and in the truck, I called Dean while I was driving home. When he answered the phone I asked "how many squirrels did you get?". He said "none, I slept in. how many deer did you get?" I said in as serious a tone as I could muster "just one". We had big laugh about that for many years after.
The Sneaky Doe
On January 28, 2010 I managed to kill the single most elusive and annoying whitetail doe that I've ever encountered, and I say that with all due respect. Every time I saw this particular doe with her clueless button buck fawn, she busted me. She winded me, cut my trail on the ground, saw me, heard me, felt my presence with her sixth sense, got signals beamed from aliens, you name it, and she nailed me that way at least once. this deer nailed me at least 6 times in three different stands. Those are just the times I saw her and knew I had been made. Who knows how many times she avoided me without me even knowing? By the third time she nailed me I nicknamed her the "Sneaky Doe", and made it my mission to put her in my freezer and regain some of the diginity that she had repeatedly robbed me of. Like people, some deer are just plain smarter than others, and this was one smart deer. Extremely wary and alert, but never panicky; the artful dodger. She was just plain good at being a deer, and making a monkey out of me for the entirety of the the season.
I had been waiting several days for a coveted light, straight west wind to be able to hunt my best stand. The evening before, my friend and squirrel dog guru Dean Torges called me and asked me to come and squirrel hunt with him and his dogs. I politely declined, and made my case for wanting to climb into a treestand instead. He understood because he was bowhunter, too. Still, he had to jab me in the ribs by offering to bet me he would kill more squirrels than I would deer. I retorted that it was a lousy bet for me to take and he knew it. The odds of laying a whitetail low with stick bow in the last week of January are quite long. I declined to take that bet, regretfully.
Despite turning down a bad bet, I was confident in my plan. The sky was crystal clear, there was an inch of two of snow on the ground, and the air temperarature was right at 20 degrees. The forecasted light west wind held up. I snuck in there in the dark and got set up, hoping the deer moved in the first hour of light or so, before I started to get cold and stiffen up. Sometimes things just go the way you script it in your head. I was in the stand a little less than an hour when I spotted some movement. Two deer coming toward me on a well used trail that passes within 10 yards of my tree. As they got to within about 40 yards, coming at me head on, I saw who it was. I was on my feet, bow in hand. The wind was perfect, and they would have to walk past me and go 40 more yards before cutting my trail. I was hidden damn good in this stand from deer approaching from their direction as I had decorated the stand considerably with cut oak branches full of leaves, and I had shot several deer from this spot in the last few years, so I knew I could avoid detection if the wind held up. The button buck was leading the way, but they stopped about 20 yards out in front of me for a look down the trail, and I'll be damned if she did not look directly up at me for no good reason! I thought to myself, "well fuck, here we go again, lol." I was not moving, and in full camo in a good hiding spot. I really don't know if I fooled her or if she simply took pity on me and decided to offer herself for the taking. Her buck fawn was moving past me as her gaze went away from me and she started coming. When she was just past me, still nearly broadside, I shot her walking at a little less than 30 feet, and my arrow found its mark. A perfect double lung shot, tight to the shoulder. She bolted about 50 yards, staggered and fell over. After a brief instant of being very pleased with myself, I realized what I had just done. I don't usually get too choked up over dead animals, but this one was different. I had a very long moment of silence as I stood over the now lifeless body of a deer that had given me a very amusing season and a good dose of humility. I was sad that it was over, but the odds were always in her favor, and not by accident.
After I got her dressed and in the truck, I called Dean while I was driving home. When he answered the phone I asked "how many squirrels did you get?". He said "none, I slept in. how many deer did you get?" I said in as serious a tone as I could muster "just one". We had big laugh about that for many years after.
The Sneaky Doe