After basically being a nature photographer on all my out-of-state hunts this fall, blackpowder season in VA showed with a nice high pressure-induced cold front. Saw only one little 2.5 year old six point in the morning, who appeared to be limping. Sucks being the new guy.
Figured I'd get in nice and early for the afternoon. I'm not the kind that usually does six hour long sits- I think the quality of your hunt tends to degrade after a certain point- but it was opening day and conditions were nice. So, I grabbed my climber and hiked into my spot around 1:30. As I hooked it to my tree, I remember thinking what a bright day it was, and how few deer I had ever seen that early on days like that. Got about a third of the way up and took a little break to let my noise signature relax a little. Was watching a Pileated woodpecker when I heard a crashing about 200 yards off. It was loud enough that I assumed it to be a large branch falling from the wind the night before. Then I heard footsteps. It was kind of like one of those movie scenes where a character suddenly gets hit by a very salient, scary realization.
I hunt with my layers in a little day pack, and hike in with just a light layer on top to keep from sweating during setup. In this case, I was wearing nothing but a short sleeved T shirt. I also realized my rifle was unprimed right about when I saw the doe. She was running towards me, looking behind her. Yikes city. I was fumbling for the primer I had in my cargo pocket when I saw his rack coming through the scrub brush. More yikes. All I could do was sit still, wearing my stupid T shirt, about 6 feet off the ground. He got closer and getting a good look at him made things much worse. 100% shooter. She jogged by me with him hot on her trail, about 25 yards away. Pretty wild to have two completely oblivious animals pass that close to you.
I got my primer in as they were beelining away and kicked myself about a thousand times for not being ready sooner. A few minutes passed and I was starting to fight the mix of depression for missing the shot and stoke on how cool it was to see. Then, my dude from the a.m. showed up- the gimpy little six. He trotted right over to their trail and grunted a few times. That was it. The doe and her suitor both came back, and as soon as he saw the little six point, he peeled off to go ruin this thing's day. By this time I was ready... and it was about a 30 yard shot.
Every year I hunt, it becomes more of a profound gratitude and appreciation than fist pumping success. This was no exception. Thankful for a really beautiful, incredible animal and the opportunity to experience the amazing place he came from.
Figured I'd get in nice and early for the afternoon. I'm not the kind that usually does six hour long sits- I think the quality of your hunt tends to degrade after a certain point- but it was opening day and conditions were nice. So, I grabbed my climber and hiked into my spot around 1:30. As I hooked it to my tree, I remember thinking what a bright day it was, and how few deer I had ever seen that early on days like that. Got about a third of the way up and took a little break to let my noise signature relax a little. Was watching a Pileated woodpecker when I heard a crashing about 200 yards off. It was loud enough that I assumed it to be a large branch falling from the wind the night before. Then I heard footsteps. It was kind of like one of those movie scenes where a character suddenly gets hit by a very salient, scary realization.
I hunt with my layers in a little day pack, and hike in with just a light layer on top to keep from sweating during setup. In this case, I was wearing nothing but a short sleeved T shirt. I also realized my rifle was unprimed right about when I saw the doe. She was running towards me, looking behind her. Yikes city. I was fumbling for the primer I had in my cargo pocket when I saw his rack coming through the scrub brush. More yikes. All I could do was sit still, wearing my stupid T shirt, about 6 feet off the ground. He got closer and getting a good look at him made things much worse. 100% shooter. She jogged by me with him hot on her trail, about 25 yards away. Pretty wild to have two completely oblivious animals pass that close to you.
I got my primer in as they were beelining away and kicked myself about a thousand times for not being ready sooner. A few minutes passed and I was starting to fight the mix of depression for missing the shot and stoke on how cool it was to see. Then, my dude from the a.m. showed up- the gimpy little six. He trotted right over to their trail and grunted a few times. That was it. The doe and her suitor both came back, and as soon as he saw the little six point, he peeled off to go ruin this thing's day. By this time I was ready... and it was about a 30 yard shot.
Every year I hunt, it becomes more of a profound gratitude and appreciation than fist pumping success. This was no exception. Thankful for a really beautiful, incredible animal and the opportunity to experience the amazing place he came from.
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