Marty1
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My most "memorable' bowhunt...
With the lazy, off-season muzzleloader hunting season upon us, I thought I'd share with the forum members my most memorable bow hunt. The buck was not the biggest I've ever taken with a bow, but it trumphs all my other bow harvests as truly the most memorable hunt.
It was a rainy fog-filled day 17 years ago in 1993 I will never forget. Like the great, legendary Fred Bear once did, I captured the hunt with a 35mm snapshot taken by my good friend and huntin' buddy Don... who had turned my arrow connection into a hunt of a lifetime. Here's a pic of my trophy:
Fred Bear always kept field notes of his hunts so that he could re-live the experience time and time again as if it happened yesterday. If you are bored and looking for something to pass the time, here are my original, un-edited field notes I wrote 17 years ago of my bowhunt. (p.s. These field notes were originally typed on an older version of Microsoft WORD software, and were converted to an updated version of WORD 2003 using MS Office Professional)
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
THE "NEEDLE-IN-A-HAYSTACK" BOWHUNT
Field notes by Marty Jalonski
" It was 2:30 a.m. on November 1, 1993 when the sleep alarm went off. It had been a restless night of sleep knowing today was the opening day of bow season. I wanted to be out of the house by 3:30 thereby giving myself a full hour to gather all my hunting things together, load them into the car and head for the closest drive-up coffee shop. Most of my equipment was packed and checked and re-packed the previous day which made things go a lot smoother in the early hours of the morning. Today would not be a solo hunt as I was to meet my bowhunting companion Don from Leominster at 4:45, so it was a must that I leave the coffee shop no later than 3:45. All went well and I managed to keep my 4:45 appointment with Don at the east end of Parmenter Road in the Leominster State Forest.
When Don and I arrived another vehicle was already parked in front of the east gate. Apparently another fellow bowhunter's strategy for the morning called for a walk into the woods before Don and I. Don was as anxious as I was to get into the woods before first daylight, so we both wasted no time gearing up. Our hunting strategy for that morning was to hunt a west facing mountain having two primary trails which ran parallel to one another from Parmenter Road northerly towards Notown Reservior. Don would be hunting the lower trail(trial "No. 2" as we named it) and I would be hunting the upper trail(trail "No. 1") which was located about half way up the mountain. Don and I proceeded slowly with our flashlights westerly on Parmenter Road and arrived at the junction of trail No. 1 in about 15 minutes. It was at this point that we would depart for our morning hunts with plans to meet at a select location on trail No. 2 around 11:30 for lunch. At that moment we wished each other good luck during the morning hunt with hopes of sharing successful bowhunting experiences later in the day. The time was now about 5:15.
Earlier in the week I had scouted out two ground stands along trail No. 1 which I planned to sit and wait for a passing deer. I didn't know whether the unknown bowhunter who entered the woods before us had gone down trail No. 1 ahead of me, but I nonetheless decided to proceed with my original hunting strategy I laid out with hopes that our hunting strategies for the morning would not overlap. I had about one hour before first daylight which would give me just enough time to sneak into one of my ground stands. I was particularly excited about that morning's hunt because the steady rains the day before would complement my strategy. My strategy for that morning was to hunt just downwind of a rubline I scouted out along trail No. 1. It was my theory that the previous rains would trigger the owner of the rubline to visit and freshen-up his scrapes first thing sometime during the very early morning hours. I had a hunch that the deer moved in the morning from the low-lying stream and swampy area to the higher mountain ground. I knew that if Don got himself positioned early enough in his ground stand along trail No. 2 that he would likely intercept passing deer first. If Don had no luck that morning I figured he may push the deer upward towards trail No. 1 where I might get an opportunity myself to sight a deer and perhaps position myself for an intercept course. With this in mind and the fact that the woods floor was very quiet walking with the breeze in my face, I decided to adjust my original strategy somewhat from rushing to my first ground stand to still hunting my way upwind along trail No. 1.
It was approximately 7:00 a.m., and I now had been slowly stalking along trail No. 1(my main trail) for the first 45 minutes of daylight shooting time. As I approached a small swale at the head of a hollow along the trail a group of blue jays began to carry on something fierce with their cackling sounds ahead of me and down the mountain side about 150 yards. My first thought was the blue jays just found the unknown hunter ahead of me along the trail and was letting every other animal in the forest know they did. As I listened to the blue jays cackling for about 15 minutes I noticed that they appeared to be moving and cackling up the mountain side as if they were following something. This prompted me to now think that the blue jays were following an animal up the mountain side in front of me since it would be unlikely that the unknown hunter would abandon his carefully selected spot only one hour into the 1993 bowhunting season. Although a small knoll about 40 yards in front of me kept me from seeing any animals beyond that point, based on the last blue jay's location I guessed that the animal that the blue jays were cackling about was just on the other side of the knoll about another 30 yards or so. The blue jays eventually flew and luckily they never found me.
At that point in time I was not going to rule out the possibility of a buck perhaps on the other side of the knoll carrying out one of his ritualistic rubbing or scrapping activities which I knew from past experience appeared to annoy blue jays for whatever reason. The fact that I was still downwind of the apparent commotion and had essentially made no noise to alarm even the curiosity of a deer, I decided to begin a very, very slow stalk along the trial. After stalking along the main trail for about a half hour and covering a distance of about 70 yards which brought me to the top of the knoll, I decided that this particular knoll may very well be that morning's travel route for the deer as they cross trail No. 2 and trail No.1.
With this in mind I slowly backtracked along the main trial until I arrived back at the previous small swale where I had first heard the blue jays. The time was about 8:00 a.m.
Now positioned on the southside of the knoll in the swale and tucked a few feet back in the pines on the downwind side of the main trail, I quietly set up the portable tripod seat. My plan for the next hour or two was to call with my bleat call every 10-15 minutes followed by a few blows on the grunt call. I opened my buck lure canister and hung it on a branch near me not for the purpose of attracting a deer, but to reinforce a deer that may respond to my calling. I began my first series of calling with three monotone bleats followed by a grunt or two. My objective at this ground stand was to coax into bow range with my calling a rutting buck that may be traveling up the knoll in search of a ready doe. Perhaps the sound of an apparent bleating doe with a buck nearby would be just enough to cause a very rutting buck to let his guard down, or to at least be curious enough to check my deer calling sounds out. It was now about 9:00 a.m., and a steady sprinkle of rain began.
After calling for an hour and completing my fourth calling series, I no sooner placed my bleat call back in my jacket when I caught a glimpse of movement down the main trail about 30 yards away. I slowly peeked around a branch only to see a deer stop for a second, and then to continue a very steady walk down the main trail towards me. Having had an arrow already resting on my bow shelf, I slowly moved the arrow onto the flipper arrow
rest and positioned my finger tab onto the string. By the time I looked up again at the deer he was about 20 yards from me and still walking down the main trail, uninterrupted with its nose glued to the ground. I then noticed that it was a small racked deer(probably a four or maybe a six pointer) that was now 15 yards from me. With its head still to the ground, I drew my bow back, aimed, and followed the buck for another five to six yards and released while the buck was still walking. The arrow entered perhaps four inches further back on the deer's left side than I would have preferred, probably because I didn't lead the deer slightly as he was walking towards me. Although the buck turned around and ran down the main trail, it looked as though I managed to marginally puncture the left lung.
The sprinkle was turning fast into a light rain. Although I would have liked to wait at least an hour before tracking my deer I knew I had no choice but to begin tracking immediately,
otherwise I was sure to lose the blood trail. The blood trail was very heavy for the first 100 yards, and I was then convinced that I struck a lung and the distance between the buck and me would quickly shorten. After about 150 yards of blood trailing the light rain turned into a heavier rain. The blood trail was still visible in the rain after about 200 yards, but was beginning to taper off. The buck apparently was beginning to clot. It was then I realized that what I thought was a swift and lethal hit to the lungs may only have been a hit to a major artery or vein. The rain was not helping the situation either. The buck had now proceeded about 250 yards on the main trail, then decided to follow a lesser manmade trail to the left down the mountain. After about an hour finding nothing more than a few sporadic drops of blood which took me only about 150 yards down the lesser trail, my worst bowhunting nightmare came true. I had up to that point pain-stakingly tracked the blood trail nearly 400 yards total, only to be standing there in the rain without a quarry beneath my feet. I had lost the blood trail, and was mentally devastated.
I sat on a wet rock for about 10 minutes asking myself "why"? Why am I going to lose this deer? Did I practice
enough? Did I rush the shot?(it certainly was a high percentage shot to take, the buck was only 9 yards away from me!) I finally came to the conclusion that although the buck was only 9 yards away, I should have led him a little when aiming to compensate for the fact that he was moving. If I would have led him about 3 to 4 inches I would have had my arrow in the vitals zone. A moving target was one scenario I did not practice for simply because I always want to avoid such a high risk shot. Evidently I had made a bad judgement call that assumed that such a close shot did not require a lead aim. Live and learn.
After I finally stopped feeling sorry for myself, I knew I would now have to search all day(and perhaps tomorrow) for my wounded quarry. This way at least if I didn't find the animal, I would have somewhat of a clear head that I tried as hard as I could to recovery the animal. It was hard to get motivated. I had no snow cover for hoof tracking and I've lost the blood trail. Even if the buck began to bleed again the steady rains would erase what little blood I may have been able to work with.
I decided it best to go back to my ground stand where I left my gear, pick it up and then head for the 11:30 meeting spot with Don on trail <a href='/tags/2' rel='nofollow' title='See all tagged subjects with: #2'>#2</a>. It would be very, very tough trying to find the wounded buck's trial alone, so I figured Don would be willing to help. Don was an expert woodsman which would essentially double what little chance I had to find my deer.
I arrived at the meeting spot around 10:15. After about two minutes I couldn't stand to just sit there for a hour and wait for Don, so I decided to walk out on trail <a href='/tags/2' rel='nofollow' title='See all tagged subjects with: #2'>#2</a> to look for Don hoping I would find him and not mess up his morning hunt. After about a swift 15 minute walk I got lucky and saw Don. Perhaps now I could get a little earlier start again on my search. I filled Don in on my situation and he was eager to begin the search. I took Don to the spot I had last marked the blood train with an arrow stuck feathers-up in the ground. The mission now was to search not necessarily for a blood trail, but perhaps a spot or two of blood to indicate what direction the deer might be headed. The ONLY thing I going for me was the fact that the buck was apparently headed down the mountain. I knew that a wounded deer would not travel up hill if it had a choice. The arrow had initially penetrated deeply into the buck, and since I didn't yet find the arrow I assumed it was still in him. With the arrow probably still in him I knew it would continue to cause internal damage and bleeding every time the buck took a step. This lead me to think that the deer would want to lay down as soon as possible to restrict its movements. From the quantity of blood I knew the buck has already lost, I was somewhat confident the buck would not survive the day. It was now not only a search for a clue to indicate the path the buck took, but also a search for the body of the deer as well.
Don began searching for blood and clues down the mountain, while I continued for about 40 minutes on my hands and knees checking every leaf for blood stains within a 30 yard circle from my marking arrow. Totally frustrated after searching for clues with nothing to show for my efforts, and not hearing at all from Don, I decided to essentially give up my search for blood stains and concentrate on the deer itself. I searched for another half hour or so in the immediate area looking for the body of the buck but still came up empty handed. I knew it would be a waste of my time re-searching the area I knew Don was looking for clues, so decided to then search one last direction downhill I figured neither one of us has searched out. Until I was satisfied that I (with Don's help) had roamed-around all of the area downhill from the last blood stain I would continue the search for my buck. I could not sleep until I knew in my own mind that I did everything I possibly could to find my quarry. As I proceeded in the new direction downhill, again I asked myself "why"? Why me Lord? Why did it rain when it did? I had no control over the fact that it was raining. I just knew my woodsmanship would likely have recovered my buck if only the rains would not have washed away my blood trail.
After wandering down the mountain side another 250 yards from where I last saw the blood trail, I stopped and scanned the terrain in search for a deer I expected to be lying down somewhere. I took a step and glanced down at my feet, and there laid my arrow!!! Bent in the middle but still in one piece!!! What a sight to behold!! You'd think I'd just won the lottery! Finding the arrow itself to me was an invaluable clue, and was located only approximately 30 yards from a flowing stream. It told me that the buck was still headed downhill, and there was an excellent chance that the buck would be following the stream. Hope had been rekindled in my mind. For what ever reason, I now experienced a very strong feeling that I was actually going to recover my animal. Why else would I have had this tremendous stroke of luck in having literally stumbled-across the very arrow that struck the buck? I could only have compared it to finding a needle-in-a-haystack. I was very excited and optimistic to say the least. It was now about 11:45.
I anxiously shouted repeatedly for Don to tell him of the good news. Between the two of us I knew that we could find my buck. After showing Don the spot where the arrow had laid, we put our heads together and decided to fan-out with a distance of about 30 yards between us, and proceeded with watchful eyes downhill while straddling the south side of the stream. I figured that we would either find the buck already dead on the ground, or would at least jump the deer from him resting place and then carefully pursue. Don decided to walk along the stream itself, and I parallel to him through a stand of tall pine. We no sooner traveled less than 50 yards when Don shouted music to my ears! I can't remember exactly what he said, but it was something along the line that he'd found my buck lying on the ground. The weight had finally been lifted from my shoulders. I stood there admiring my buck which carried a small but symmetrical three-by-three rack. Although most would consider it a small six-pointer, as a bowhunter it was truly a big and special trophy in my mind.
After thanking the Lord for my find and admiring what a magnificent animal I had harvested with a bow and arrow, Don assisted me in taking a few photographs of my prize. After dressing out the deer we began the long, half-mile drag back up the mountain to our vehicles. Although the drag was quite the physical effort, I didn't seem to mind one bit. This bowhunt would be a adventure I would never forget.
Special thanks to my huntin' buddy "Don" doing what he loves best...enjoying the outdoors.
"Lunch along the lake"
With the lazy, off-season muzzleloader hunting season upon us, I thought I'd share with the forum members my most memorable bow hunt. The buck was not the biggest I've ever taken with a bow, but it trumphs all my other bow harvests as truly the most memorable hunt.
It was a rainy fog-filled day 17 years ago in 1993 I will never forget. Like the great, legendary Fred Bear once did, I captured the hunt with a 35mm snapshot taken by my good friend and huntin' buddy Don... who had turned my arrow connection into a hunt of a lifetime. Here's a pic of my trophy:
Fred Bear always kept field notes of his hunts so that he could re-live the experience time and time again as if it happened yesterday. If you are bored and looking for something to pass the time, here are my original, un-edited field notes I wrote 17 years ago of my bowhunt. (p.s. These field notes were originally typed on an older version of Microsoft WORD software, and were converted to an updated version of WORD 2003 using MS Office Professional)
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
THE "NEEDLE-IN-A-HAYSTACK" BOWHUNT
Field notes by Marty Jalonski
" It was 2:30 a.m. on November 1, 1993 when the sleep alarm went off. It had been a restless night of sleep knowing today was the opening day of bow season. I wanted to be out of the house by 3:30 thereby giving myself a full hour to gather all my hunting things together, load them into the car and head for the closest drive-up coffee shop. Most of my equipment was packed and checked and re-packed the previous day which made things go a lot smoother in the early hours of the morning. Today would not be a solo hunt as I was to meet my bowhunting companion Don from Leominster at 4:45, so it was a must that I leave the coffee shop no later than 3:45. All went well and I managed to keep my 4:45 appointment with Don at the east end of Parmenter Road in the Leominster State Forest.
When Don and I arrived another vehicle was already parked in front of the east gate. Apparently another fellow bowhunter's strategy for the morning called for a walk into the woods before Don and I. Don was as anxious as I was to get into the woods before first daylight, so we both wasted no time gearing up. Our hunting strategy for that morning was to hunt a west facing mountain having two primary trails which ran parallel to one another from Parmenter Road northerly towards Notown Reservior. Don would be hunting the lower trail(trial "No. 2" as we named it) and I would be hunting the upper trail(trail "No. 1") which was located about half way up the mountain. Don and I proceeded slowly with our flashlights westerly on Parmenter Road and arrived at the junction of trail No. 1 in about 15 minutes. It was at this point that we would depart for our morning hunts with plans to meet at a select location on trail No. 2 around 11:30 for lunch. At that moment we wished each other good luck during the morning hunt with hopes of sharing successful bowhunting experiences later in the day. The time was now about 5:15.
Earlier in the week I had scouted out two ground stands along trail No. 1 which I planned to sit and wait for a passing deer. I didn't know whether the unknown bowhunter who entered the woods before us had gone down trail No. 1 ahead of me, but I nonetheless decided to proceed with my original hunting strategy I laid out with hopes that our hunting strategies for the morning would not overlap. I had about one hour before first daylight which would give me just enough time to sneak into one of my ground stands. I was particularly excited about that morning's hunt because the steady rains the day before would complement my strategy. My strategy for that morning was to hunt just downwind of a rubline I scouted out along trail No. 1. It was my theory that the previous rains would trigger the owner of the rubline to visit and freshen-up his scrapes first thing sometime during the very early morning hours. I had a hunch that the deer moved in the morning from the low-lying stream and swampy area to the higher mountain ground. I knew that if Don got himself positioned early enough in his ground stand along trail No. 2 that he would likely intercept passing deer first. If Don had no luck that morning I figured he may push the deer upward towards trail No. 1 where I might get an opportunity myself to sight a deer and perhaps position myself for an intercept course. With this in mind and the fact that the woods floor was very quiet walking with the breeze in my face, I decided to adjust my original strategy somewhat from rushing to my first ground stand to still hunting my way upwind along trail No. 1.
It was approximately 7:00 a.m., and I now had been slowly stalking along trail No. 1(my main trail) for the first 45 minutes of daylight shooting time. As I approached a small swale at the head of a hollow along the trail a group of blue jays began to carry on something fierce with their cackling sounds ahead of me and down the mountain side about 150 yards. My first thought was the blue jays just found the unknown hunter ahead of me along the trail and was letting every other animal in the forest know they did. As I listened to the blue jays cackling for about 15 minutes I noticed that they appeared to be moving and cackling up the mountain side as if they were following something. This prompted me to now think that the blue jays were following an animal up the mountain side in front of me since it would be unlikely that the unknown hunter would abandon his carefully selected spot only one hour into the 1993 bowhunting season. Although a small knoll about 40 yards in front of me kept me from seeing any animals beyond that point, based on the last blue jay's location I guessed that the animal that the blue jays were cackling about was just on the other side of the knoll about another 30 yards or so. The blue jays eventually flew and luckily they never found me.
At that point in time I was not going to rule out the possibility of a buck perhaps on the other side of the knoll carrying out one of his ritualistic rubbing or scrapping activities which I knew from past experience appeared to annoy blue jays for whatever reason. The fact that I was still downwind of the apparent commotion and had essentially made no noise to alarm even the curiosity of a deer, I decided to begin a very, very slow stalk along the trial. After stalking along the main trail for about a half hour and covering a distance of about 70 yards which brought me to the top of the knoll, I decided that this particular knoll may very well be that morning's travel route for the deer as they cross trail No. 2 and trail No.1.
With this in mind I slowly backtracked along the main trial until I arrived back at the previous small swale where I had first heard the blue jays. The time was about 8:00 a.m.
Now positioned on the southside of the knoll in the swale and tucked a few feet back in the pines on the downwind side of the main trail, I quietly set up the portable tripod seat. My plan for the next hour or two was to call with my bleat call every 10-15 minutes followed by a few blows on the grunt call. I opened my buck lure canister and hung it on a branch near me not for the purpose of attracting a deer, but to reinforce a deer that may respond to my calling. I began my first series of calling with three monotone bleats followed by a grunt or two. My objective at this ground stand was to coax into bow range with my calling a rutting buck that may be traveling up the knoll in search of a ready doe. Perhaps the sound of an apparent bleating doe with a buck nearby would be just enough to cause a very rutting buck to let his guard down, or to at least be curious enough to check my deer calling sounds out. It was now about 9:00 a.m., and a steady sprinkle of rain began.
After calling for an hour and completing my fourth calling series, I no sooner placed my bleat call back in my jacket when I caught a glimpse of movement down the main trail about 30 yards away. I slowly peeked around a branch only to see a deer stop for a second, and then to continue a very steady walk down the main trail towards me. Having had an arrow already resting on my bow shelf, I slowly moved the arrow onto the flipper arrow
rest and positioned my finger tab onto the string. By the time I looked up again at the deer he was about 20 yards from me and still walking down the main trail, uninterrupted with its nose glued to the ground. I then noticed that it was a small racked deer(probably a four or maybe a six pointer) that was now 15 yards from me. With its head still to the ground, I drew my bow back, aimed, and followed the buck for another five to six yards and released while the buck was still walking. The arrow entered perhaps four inches further back on the deer's left side than I would have preferred, probably because I didn't lead the deer slightly as he was walking towards me. Although the buck turned around and ran down the main trail, it looked as though I managed to marginally puncture the left lung.
The sprinkle was turning fast into a light rain. Although I would have liked to wait at least an hour before tracking my deer I knew I had no choice but to begin tracking immediately,
otherwise I was sure to lose the blood trail. The blood trail was very heavy for the first 100 yards, and I was then convinced that I struck a lung and the distance between the buck and me would quickly shorten. After about 150 yards of blood trailing the light rain turned into a heavier rain. The blood trail was still visible in the rain after about 200 yards, but was beginning to taper off. The buck apparently was beginning to clot. It was then I realized that what I thought was a swift and lethal hit to the lungs may only have been a hit to a major artery or vein. The rain was not helping the situation either. The buck had now proceeded about 250 yards on the main trail, then decided to follow a lesser manmade trail to the left down the mountain. After about an hour finding nothing more than a few sporadic drops of blood which took me only about 150 yards down the lesser trail, my worst bowhunting nightmare came true. I had up to that point pain-stakingly tracked the blood trail nearly 400 yards total, only to be standing there in the rain without a quarry beneath my feet. I had lost the blood trail, and was mentally devastated.
I sat on a wet rock for about 10 minutes asking myself "why"? Why am I going to lose this deer? Did I practice
enough? Did I rush the shot?(it certainly was a high percentage shot to take, the buck was only 9 yards away from me!) I finally came to the conclusion that although the buck was only 9 yards away, I should have led him a little when aiming to compensate for the fact that he was moving. If I would have led him about 3 to 4 inches I would have had my arrow in the vitals zone. A moving target was one scenario I did not practice for simply because I always want to avoid such a high risk shot. Evidently I had made a bad judgement call that assumed that such a close shot did not require a lead aim. Live and learn.
After I finally stopped feeling sorry for myself, I knew I would now have to search all day(and perhaps tomorrow) for my wounded quarry. This way at least if I didn't find the animal, I would have somewhat of a clear head that I tried as hard as I could to recovery the animal. It was hard to get motivated. I had no snow cover for hoof tracking and I've lost the blood trail. Even if the buck began to bleed again the steady rains would erase what little blood I may have been able to work with.
I decided it best to go back to my ground stand where I left my gear, pick it up and then head for the 11:30 meeting spot with Don on trail <a href='/tags/2' rel='nofollow' title='See all tagged subjects with: #2'>#2</a>. It would be very, very tough trying to find the wounded buck's trial alone, so I figured Don would be willing to help. Don was an expert woodsman which would essentially double what little chance I had to find my deer.
I arrived at the meeting spot around 10:15. After about two minutes I couldn't stand to just sit there for a hour and wait for Don, so I decided to walk out on trail <a href='/tags/2' rel='nofollow' title='See all tagged subjects with: #2'>#2</a> to look for Don hoping I would find him and not mess up his morning hunt. After about a swift 15 minute walk I got lucky and saw Don. Perhaps now I could get a little earlier start again on my search. I filled Don in on my situation and he was eager to begin the search. I took Don to the spot I had last marked the blood train with an arrow stuck feathers-up in the ground. The mission now was to search not necessarily for a blood trail, but perhaps a spot or two of blood to indicate what direction the deer might be headed. The ONLY thing I going for me was the fact that the buck was apparently headed down the mountain. I knew that a wounded deer would not travel up hill if it had a choice. The arrow had initially penetrated deeply into the buck, and since I didn't yet find the arrow I assumed it was still in him. With the arrow probably still in him I knew it would continue to cause internal damage and bleeding every time the buck took a step. This lead me to think that the deer would want to lay down as soon as possible to restrict its movements. From the quantity of blood I knew the buck has already lost, I was somewhat confident the buck would not survive the day. It was now not only a search for a clue to indicate the path the buck took, but also a search for the body of the deer as well.
Don began searching for blood and clues down the mountain, while I continued for about 40 minutes on my hands and knees checking every leaf for blood stains within a 30 yard circle from my marking arrow. Totally frustrated after searching for clues with nothing to show for my efforts, and not hearing at all from Don, I decided to essentially give up my search for blood stains and concentrate on the deer itself. I searched for another half hour or so in the immediate area looking for the body of the buck but still came up empty handed. I knew it would be a waste of my time re-searching the area I knew Don was looking for clues, so decided to then search one last direction downhill I figured neither one of us has searched out. Until I was satisfied that I (with Don's help) had roamed-around all of the area downhill from the last blood stain I would continue the search for my buck. I could not sleep until I knew in my own mind that I did everything I possibly could to find my quarry. As I proceeded in the new direction downhill, again I asked myself "why"? Why me Lord? Why did it rain when it did? I had no control over the fact that it was raining. I just knew my woodsmanship would likely have recovered my buck if only the rains would not have washed away my blood trail.
After wandering down the mountain side another 250 yards from where I last saw the blood trail, I stopped and scanned the terrain in search for a deer I expected to be lying down somewhere. I took a step and glanced down at my feet, and there laid my arrow!!! Bent in the middle but still in one piece!!! What a sight to behold!! You'd think I'd just won the lottery! Finding the arrow itself to me was an invaluable clue, and was located only approximately 30 yards from a flowing stream. It told me that the buck was still headed downhill, and there was an excellent chance that the buck would be following the stream. Hope had been rekindled in my mind. For what ever reason, I now experienced a very strong feeling that I was actually going to recover my animal. Why else would I have had this tremendous stroke of luck in having literally stumbled-across the very arrow that struck the buck? I could only have compared it to finding a needle-in-a-haystack. I was very excited and optimistic to say the least. It was now about 11:45.
I anxiously shouted repeatedly for Don to tell him of the good news. Between the two of us I knew that we could find my buck. After showing Don the spot where the arrow had laid, we put our heads together and decided to fan-out with a distance of about 30 yards between us, and proceeded with watchful eyes downhill while straddling the south side of the stream. I figured that we would either find the buck already dead on the ground, or would at least jump the deer from him resting place and then carefully pursue. Don decided to walk along the stream itself, and I parallel to him through a stand of tall pine. We no sooner traveled less than 50 yards when Don shouted music to my ears! I can't remember exactly what he said, but it was something along the line that he'd found my buck lying on the ground. The weight had finally been lifted from my shoulders. I stood there admiring my buck which carried a small but symmetrical three-by-three rack. Although most would consider it a small six-pointer, as a bowhunter it was truly a big and special trophy in my mind.
After thanking the Lord for my find and admiring what a magnificent animal I had harvested with a bow and arrow, Don assisted me in taking a few photographs of my prize. After dressing out the deer we began the long, half-mile drag back up the mountain to our vehicles. Although the drag was quite the physical effort, I didn't seem to mind one bit. This bowhunt would be a adventure I would never forget.
Special thanks to my huntin' buddy "Don" doing what he loves best...enjoying the outdoors.
"Lunch along the lake"
