Thanks Ben for kicking this off, forcing me to get my lazy ass out of the recliner and share this story.
Short version: Last Thursday morning it was raining. I decided to sit in a covered stand overlooking a food plot with a feeder on it for two reasons: 1) to stay dryer than an exposed ladderstand and 2) to see if any deer were still visiting this usually good site 2 days after the power company sent their monstrous brush clearing machinery right up the powerline right-of-way this stand and plot are on. I got in the stand at 7am (2 mins after sunrise) and got settled in. It was peaceful, quiet, and the rain was going pitter-patter on the rooftop of the elevated box blind. I had my crossbow pointed out the window ledge with the safety off, ready to access and deal with a fast moving buck. (I learned 4 nights before that you do NOT put your bow on the hook during the rut, because the bucks will come fast and you have to be ready <that story will be in the long version>)
I managed to last about 20 minutes I think before I started dozing.
So I’m sitting there, comfy, and dozed off, when I suddenly come to, open my eyes, and here’s this buck, walking right past the stand, in front of me at about 15 yards. Shit. He keeps walking straight toward a feeder about 30 yards away (that’s what my rangefinder had said). I slowly turned and changed windows, and took aim at the buck. Now his ass was pointed straight at me. When he got to the feeder he stopped, put his head down, and started rotating around offering a quartering away shot. So I aimed for the far lung and let it fly. I heard that wonderful sound of a good solid hit, then watched him drop to the ground and start moaning. A spine shot. Shit. But looking at him struggle for a couple seconds, I could tell he was going nowhere. So I immediately lower my bow and climb down, wanting to walk over and end him without wasting any time. Then I immediately climbed back into the stand to get the arrows I’d left up there (dumbass). I walked over to where he lay and he was almost gone, and I decided to finish him with the knife. It was almost unnecessary, but I wanted to speed him along. I then took a knee, thanked God for the opportunity, and thanked the deer for his sacrifice. I told the deer that I would do my best to make sure that nothing was wasted. It was a very primal, very satisfying moment, very humbling.
Those of you who’ve been around for a while know that I name my deer. This guy’s name is Sleepy.
For the record, Sleepy was exhibiting no rutting behavior – wasn’t moving too fast, didn’t have his sniffer down on the ground – all he was about was the food. I’m pissed at myself for being asleep, because one of the points of sitting that stand was to see where the deer were coming from and how they were reacting to the new landscape changes. Valuable intel lost.
I thought I’d put a bad shot on the deer at first. It was not a pass thru, and the arrow came out of the deer missing the first three inches and broadhead. After skinning, I found that the shot was actually right where I’d been aiming, just a little high. The other guys had ranged it at 25-26 yds, not the 30 I’d ranged, so I was just a little high. I found the broadhead just behind the left front quarter.
Here are pictures of the angle, and the inside of the chest cavity. You can see what it did to the spine.
Here's where the broadhead ended up, thru the ribcage and behind the front quarter.
I gotta be honest – I was very lucky on this shot, because the deer expired very quickly, and I had about a 6 yard tracking job.
More to come….
