Whitetail Hunting. (continued)
I have had the opportunity throughout the years to be a "guide" for my dad's
elk hunting experiences. We have had a lot of fun and a few near successes. All
the while, Dad has been encouraging me to come back to my home state of Iowa
and he would return my guiding favors. The time finally came this year and
I was given the chance to travel to Iowa during the Thanksgiving holidays and
try my chance at whitetail deer during that time.
Dad reported several times during the weeks leading up to the hunt with the numbers and sizes
of the deer that he has seen. It was all very encouraging. He even promised that
I would get a shot at one. I take those promises with a grain of salt as I
have gone on a number of "sure thing" hunts in the past
only to come back disappointed. The so called "sure thing" seems to be a sure thing to
everybody except for me. Nevertheless, I was looking forward to this hunt, not only for the chance to shoot a deer, but also for the hunting experience. So when
the time for the hunt arrived, I packed by trusty recurve bow, the few arrows that I made,
and headed towards Iowa.
The first night, I headed for one of the tree stands that was in one of the prime
spots. After sitting
there for a half an hour or so, I saw my first whitetail of the hunt. It was a doe that
was staying just out of shooting range. I don't know if I would have shot her,
since
that would have ended my hunt so early, but I didn't have to choose since
she never came into
range. The only other thing that I saw was an opossum that walked underneath my stand.
The next morning I moved to a different tree stand and I saw a few deer off in the distance. They were too far away to see
what they were. The only creatures that came close to me were several squirrels and
a lone coyote. The next evening I didn't
even catch a glimpse of a deer. It was
beginning to look as if my hunting experiences were going to continue as they had in
the past. But there was a lot of hunting left to do and things could rapidly change.
I climbed up into a different tree stand the next morning and rotated between sitting and standing
trying to ward off the cold. There are few things that chill one more than staying motionless
in a tree stand. While standing, I noticed some movement about 75 yards from where
I was standing. Expecting to see a squirrel, I turned and noticed three deer walking towards
me. If they kept moving the direction that they were coming, I would have a perfect shot
at less than 10 yards. In accordance with my hunting history, the deer turned off the
trail before they provided a good shot. Had I been left handed, I would have had a nice shot
at about 15 yards.
But there is not much room to manuever in a tree stand so it was not
possible for me to rotate around. The deer went on their merry way and I was left wondering
if that was going to be my only chance for the season.
The next evening, I climbed into the same stand and was preparing to make a practice shot
when a deer started moving towards me at less than 50 yards away. The unfortunate part of
this circumstance was that my practice arrow was a blunt and I had to exchange it for a
broadhead. I performed this exchange, but not without being noticed. This caused the
deer to alter her course. She almost gave me a shot about 30 yards or so, but took a
different course. I saw nothing the rest of the evening and wasn't able to go out the
following morning. The end of my hunting time was nearing and my success possibilities
were becoming less likely. I, however, was not dismayed.
That evening, after not hunting in the morning, I set up in the same stand that I tried the previous two outings. Both of those times, I have seen deer within
relatively close proximity. This evening turned out to be no different.
After sitting there through most of the shooting light, I heard the
sound of movement that was slightly different from the sound the squirrels make. I slowly
turned my head and at about the same place that the solo doe came from the night before,
were three does. I was able to slowly get myself in position and wait for them to come
to me. Then a small six point buck came out from behind them. They were all oblivious to
my presence and continued to move toward me. After waiting for a few minutes
with the light fading quickly the little buck moved into position for a nice shot at about 25 yards. Unfortunately for me, I had an anterless tag and had to wait
for one of the does. But that didn't matter
because one of the small does started walking down the trail that was leading right next
to my stand. She stopped and gave me a perfect broadside shot at about 15 yards. If you
read my last article, I was having some difficulty shooting the egg that I was using for
target practice at 15 yards. Sure at 30 or 35 yards I shot right through the egg but
not on the shorter distance. I drew back, aimed with what looked like a perfect lung shot,
and released. You know that feeling you get when you prepare for something for a long
time and when the opportunity finally comes about you completely mess it up. I distinctly
remember the feeling of ultimate failure as I saw the arrow fly over her back. That shot
caught the attention of her and the three other deer and they began to wander off. I have
heard stories of people getting more than one shot off at an elk, so I thought that maybe
something like that can happen with whitetail. I carefully load another arrow and watch as
the deer make their way out of range. One of the does was substantially larger than the
others and as she moved out she stopped at a narrow opening in the branches around 35 yards
away. That distance
was nothing for the egg in my backyard, how about a whitetail. I drew back my bowstring one more time and aimed such that if felt just right and let the arrow
fly.
Instinctive shooters know the feeling of a perfect shot. When you draw back the bowstring and release a perfect shot, it seems as natural as a pitcher throwing a strike without a batter to contend with. Although it felt
good,
I didn't think that I hit her until I saw the arrow sticking out as she turned to run.
When I went down to place where she was hit, I could tell by the amount of blood that it
was a good hit.
We rounded up some friends to help us look. It didn't take us long to follow the trail
and we found the deer, my first archery kill, no more than about 75 yards from where she was hit.
Dad's promise of a shot came to pass. I am sure happy that it turned out to be two shots.