Out There - Rebel Darling's Journal

[Rebel Darling]

I ain't been around on the forum much, nor on the Internet generally, and it's with good reason.  While I've been practicing bow, and hauling and chopping wood to stay fit for hunting season, I spent most of my spring and early summer preparing for the arrival of a different sort of creature.

On Saturday, July 15 at 2:02 a.m., we welcomed Jackson Rose Poulopoulos to the world.  Weighing in at 6lbs, 11oz, the fella is light on his feet, and will be up and down trees for bow season in no time.  He has a sharp eye, and discerning character, as you'll note in the photo.  I'll purchase his lifetime license once I get his birth certificate.

The wife and I are smitten, and, surprisingly, not entirely exhausted.  He's pretty chill, but for the 9:00 - 10:30 p.m. stretch.  After that, it's a matter of getting him fed and his diaper changed, and we're back asleep for a few hours.

G-ma will be taking over day-time baby duty come mid-October, and I've been encouraged to get more venison in the freezer this year.  I'm excited by the prospect of putting more food on the table, and even more so to introduce my boy to the natural world, and a lifestyle that aims to live within its provisions as best we can.

That news aside, I'm pasting a link to my 2016 Journal, just so I have it handy as I transfer over to this general thread topic:

 

 

 

Cheers, Everybody!

Edited July 26, 2017 by Rebel Darling
Grammar

[grampy]

Congratulations!!!  He already has the hunters stare!  Enjoy every second, time does fly by so quickly. These really are some of the best days of your life.

[doebuck1234]

Congrats!

[bugsNbows]

What...not a camo paci?  LOL. Fine looking little guy. Congrats. 

 

 

[Tughill Tamer]

Congratulations!

Sent from my XT1650 using Tapatalk

[turkeyfeathers]

Congrats Rebel Darling !

[Rebel Darling]

Thanks, all! 

[NYBowhunter]

Congrats

[TACC]

Congrats

Sent from my SM-G900T3 using Tapatalk

[DirtTime]

Congratulations!

Sent from my XT830C using Tapatalk

[Rebel Darling]

Yesterday afternoon, I set up a pair of cameras on the property.  The first is by the stand from which I arrowed last year's doe, and that camera should show me a fairly consistent stream of does in both the morning and evening as they make their way to and from bedding and food sources.  I plan to hunt this stand mornings unless the camera shows me reason to do otherwise.

I hung the second camera from a tree in a location I have yet to hunt.  It's down near the property edge, by the marsh.  There are clusters of pine saplings, and a few of them have rubs from this past fall.  It's tight and thick in that area, so I had to look around for a while to find a climbable tree in a location that would provide one or two shooting lanes.  I'll likely hang a stand with a ladder if the camera shows me bucks moving through.

I don't really know what to expect from this second camera.  While there are rubs close by and some cris-crossing trails with piles of fresh deer scat on both sides, I'm skeptical that I'll see a buck older than a yearling at this point in the year.  The way I'm learning the property (only 2 years in...), is that the older bucks don't show up until the pre-rut and rut start kicking in.  Mostly, this property and the series of connecting properties, mostly lots of 10 - 20 acres, hold does in and close to a large area of red oaks and beech (s a side note, I think this year is going to be a good year to hunt near beech).  Those does bring in the bucks as the rut approaches, and I think they bed in the marsh thicket.  My hope is to catch one on his way home, or on his way out for the evening.  If I'm lucky, I'll catch one cruising in the mid-day hours.

Gotta run...  Fussy baby, and a morning presentation to prepare for.

[Rebel Darling]

The itch is strong. Had to drive to Long Island today, and decided to roll down the Taconic and through some prime deer country. The woods are inviting, almost beckoning, when I choose to ignore the deep-seated thoughts of Columbia County ticks.

It's only an hour down to the Taconic State Park, and it's 700 some odd acres (I think...). If I get a moment, I'm going to give it a walk around in the next few weeks to see if I can learn some on where the hunters hang, and to then head a bit further back.

The itch is strong, and it's almost time to spray down the camo with permethrin to avoid unwanted itches while satisfying others.


Sent from my iPhone using Tapatalk

[Rebel Darling]

I didn’t get his name as I moved into the aisle and walked off the plane.  It didn’t feel right to ask him for it.  Names are for the offering between men.  I handed him my business card.  I think he said his name aloud, though, low on the breath as if to hide it from anyone who might be listening, but I can’t be sure; I was already fidgeting with my pack, and focused on imagining a barstool at my favorite Midway breakfast and beer joint.  We did shake hands and exchange warm smiles.  That seemed to be the limit of what he would express in the cluttered hurry of de-boarding, and likely the limit of what I was able to retain at the moment.  Breakfast beer is for the first to arrive between men.

We chatted for the first half of the flight, initially chatting about work, but quickly latching onto hunting as a shared interest and passion.  I don’t know why he mentioned elk hunting.  It seemed like he knew I was a hunter.  He uttered the sentence as if adding additional butter to a recipe, understanding that I was the only other soul in the kitchen.  For work, he’s established himself as a contractor with at least 40 full-time employees at all times.  He’s in large-scale industrial maintenance, and payrolls an employee spectrum of engineers to unionized mill workers.  At first, I thought it may have been a euphemism for custodial duties, but it ain’t.  Guy works in placing 100-plus ton equipment on spot, dealing in 1000ths of an inch.  Shit.  I only ever dealt in 16ths, and cunt hairs thereafter…  Judging by his properties in Idaho and Ballston Spa, he’s doing well for himself and his family, and more power to the guy.  As a veteran of the Navy, he gets his tax breaks after putting up his name and body on government contract, but it’s clear he’s added to his life’s richness post military service, and ain’t basking in some notion of glory days.

As for hunting, he’s hunted moose and grizzly in Alaska, and a generous host of other North American big game species on and near his Clear River property, which butts up to federal and state lands.  Whitetail, mule deer, wapiti, black bear, mountain lion…  He’s hunted and harvested them all.  One specific story he shared involved moose hunting on Athabaskan land with the village chief.  Spotting by helicopter is legal on native land, so they’d wait for the radio call, and then hop on the ATVs, or in a truck and head to the given coordinates.  Boom.  Moose down.  Didn’t seem like much sport to me, but he seemed to relish the experience of hunting with Athabaskans, however in the hell they chose to harvest.  “Sure is efficient,” I told him.  “They live off it,” he told me.  He built them a bridge.

He also mentioned that the Athabaskans send boats out on the lake, loaded with cases of shotgun shells, manned with hunters.  The boats would disappear around a bend, or reduce their image over distance to pepper flakes, and as that happened sustained reports of shotguns would bounce across the water back to the docks.  He said that the hunters would drive their boats through flocks of fowl resting on the placid water, which flushed the birds up into the air while the hunters knocked them down with lead shot.  Once the low, shell inspired thunder reached the village children, the kids would hop in boats of their own and return not long after with hundreds of ducks.  Retrievers, and likely jealous of the older hunters.  There’s pride in advancement yet.  The remaining village members would meet the kids at the docks and start to feather and divvy up the birds.  “It’s all legal on native land,” he reassured me, though I required none.

As we continued chatting, it became clear that he stayed true to his military roots, hosting crews of veterans through Wounded Warriors on his Idaho property for hunts.  He worked directly with Wounded Warriors, which is both admirable and honorable, in addition to being worthy of additional accolades.  Fella helps out, ya know?  He mentioned that he’d bust the Army guys’ balls “over being Army,” and I reminded him that recent news provides plenty of ammo for the Army guys to shoot at his this season.  He smirked quick, and moved on faster.

“My daughter’s an Olympic Shooter,” he said.  That statement hit its mark.  “Yeah, she’s 16, and competed out in Colorado.  She also took a buck this past Fall at 260 yards.”  So at this point, I’m taken aback, and pretty enamored with this fella’s situation and lifestyle.  I think he picked up on my excitement to share hunting experiences.  Armed with that knowledge, he gave out a practiced yawn, pushed his chair back, and closed his eyes.  I imagine the first phrase he thought on before he fell asleep was something along the sentiment of, “Mission accomplished.”  Indeed, Sir.  

Safe travel to Vegas, man.  See you around…

[Rebel Darling]

I checked my trail cameras this past weekend, and saw exactly what I expected to see: does, fawns, and spike and fork bucks.  Nothing worth depleting Internet data to post.  After two and a half years here on the property, I’m almost certain that the property, and those that adjoin and sit near it hold no mature bucks until the rut approaches.

Adding to this year’s challenge, is my neighbor’s untamable imagination brought to life.  This year’s project, which, true to form, is immense in scale, is clear-cutting and clean filling a few acres for a grass lawn, and a driveway that prevents a view of his footprint (which is also immense in scale) from the road.  On this side of the stone wall, it’s been less than a peaceful summer.  Aside from all the machine activity, which includes a regular thud-thud-thud from the excavator’s hydraulic hammer and the crash from the front-end loader pushing over trees, the clearing interrupted a major deer trail that brought the does onto my property.  While I’m still getting deer on camera, their travel is irregular in both direction and time.  This season is going to be fun on the property.  I mean that.  I'm looking forward to the challenge.  In the long run, though, the deer are going to love visiting that lawn in the evenings, and there are established rutting buck beds along a creek on backside of his property, which I have permission to hunt.  That property is going to be pretty sweet in a few years.

With Jackson around, time is both short and vanishing.  I missed planting Whitetail Institute’s Bowstand seed by two weeks, and the shelf at Agway was empty when I drove there last weekend.  Exhausted and preoccupied, I simply spaced on planting.  I picked up and threw down some Throw and Grow instead, but am still a week late for the ideal planting time frame.  Two weeks behind, if you factor in the lack of rain this week.  Fortunately, the clover came back up this spring, and is still around, but the deer have already chewed their way through a good deal of it.  I should plant more of that next spring and summer.

Now that I’m on the topic of my little, 1/8 acre food plot, I want to write out a lesson learned last season.  I hunted the food plot stand only a few times last year, and each time I saw deer, they wouldn’t walk into the opening.  I consistently had the wind in my favor, but they trotted the edges and never set foot onto the clover.  This frustrated me throughout the season, but reflection over the past few months revealed the reason, and my error.

The food plot trail camera placed does and fawns, and later bucks, in the plot around 4:30 am and then throughout the day.  In dimwitted moves, I repeatedly decided to climb into the stand prior to daybreak, right at the time the deer were feeding.  I now realize that I effectively ran off all the deer as I got into the stand.  Looking back, it’s no wonder that each time I saw deer, they trotted the edges, just behind cover.  Basically, I told them I was going to be there all morning, and they got the message.  I’ll now use that stand exclusively for afternoon and evening sits.  Maybe a mid-day sit during the rut.  That is, if the Throw and Grow sprouts and there’s something for the deer to eat.

With all the change and activity on my adjoining neighbor’s property, I might head over to the neighbor’s across the street to start off the season.  They mentioned that does eat up their garden, and have repeatedly granted me permission to hunt their property.  I helped them cut up some logs this summer, so I don’t feel as bad about taking them up on their offer.  I also alerted them to a new ladder stand set up at the end of last season.  There’s only two of us that have permission to hunt that property, and neither one of us set up that stand.  

At any rate, their back property line rises up to and runs a ways along a ridge, which will likely be a good spot to hunt late October and early November.  Below that, they have a section that they logged a number of years ago, and the does like to feed there and walk through.  I think the best bet is to set up along a trail leading out of that area prior to dawn and hope they choose that trail to head to bed when I sit.  I’d like to “help them out” so to speak, with a doe harvest.

In new hunt-able property, a buddy of mine bought 100 acres in the Little Hoosick River Valley.  The entirety of the property is sloped up to a ridge, which is on his side of the line.  The base of the property has tall grass, an old apple orchard and leased land for corn.  Sounds pretty ideal, but I just got his okay to bow hunt early season there, and haven’t walked it.  The deer must be there.  I bet I bump into someone who's used to hunting that lot.

I haven’t bought much in gear this year, and didn’t need to buy any arrows or broad heads, not yet anyway.  I did purchase some mid-season ScentLok pants, and will pick up a jacket of the same model, Taktix, once I get a proper fit.  The reason I bought the pants and will pick up that jacket is to get a set of Realtree camo, which blends well with the woods type hunting I do most often.  My current gear is Mossy Oak, and that’s fine for down near the marsh, but the pattern stands out when I’m not in the dark, thick stuff.  I guess the purchase is more for peace of mind than anything else, because if I’m set up well it shouldn’t matter too much.  Hell, in the two seasons I’ve bow hunted, I’ve harvested four deer.  The camo can’t be that bad…

One issue I’ve had purchasing hunting clothing is that nothing off the rack ever fits me.  It's a size offered issue.  In most clothes, a medium fits me true.  In hunting clothes, though, and it hasn’t mattered which brand, I can swim around in a medium.  Pants fall down, sleeves bunch up and slack.  It’s a poor situation for bow hunting from a stand.  I’m a slender framed fella, and require a small in pants.  No one seems to carry clothing in small, though.  In fact, Neither Cabela’s nor Field and Stream sell it on their website, and least not the ScentLok.  ScentLok’s company page, however, sells clothing in small, so I bought the pants direct from them.  I hope they fit well, because I’m not going to want to pay the shipping to return them. 

Well, all this bow hunting writing has given me the itch.  The wife took Jackson down to Grandma’s, so I’ll send a few arrows at the target, and then head to Field and Stream to fit up that jacket.

 

 

[Fletch]

Seems your getting the itch like some of the rest of us lol. That new spot sounds interesting. Good luck this year!!

[Rebel Darling]

Seems your getting the itch like some of the rest of us lol. That new spot sounds interesting. Good luck this year!!

Likewise!


I'm all thumbs when using Tapatalk

[Rebel Darling]

Sunday, 10-2-17

First day of bow season crossed off the calendar.  And no one likes October mosquitoes.  No one.

Sitting in the stand from which I harvested last year’s doe, wildlife filled the morning, but the only deer I saw was a 1.5 year-old fork buck.  At first I thought he was a doe, and my heart accelerated.  I reached for my bow.  Once I saw those antlers appear out from under a beech sapling, I released by grip on the bow, and let it hang.  He never came within range anyway.  

At first light, I heard a crew of barred owls hooting it up, and a coyote yipping in celebration.  He was the only successful hunter on the mountain whose story I heard.  Later, I saw a bluejay harass a hawk, and a barred owl perch, likely one of the earlier partiers, just 20’ behind me.  Staring into the morning’s horizon, I initially thought it was a red-tail, but once it swiveled its head, there was no mistaking the bird.  It surprised me by staying put on a limb watching the same squirrel I watched with anticipation of a predation.  The owl was mostly interested in my slow movements, though, and I imagined my bow season ending with a fight of arms vs. talons.  

It was strange to see so much green, and feel the cold, 34 degree air.  The woods felt one way, and looked another.  It was like being in one place and peering out a window at another.  Despite that strange feeling, the excitement of deer season repeatedly crept up on me in waves, and warmed my core.  The anticipation is over…  Deer season is here, and hopefully the preparations pay off.  The somewhat distant, knowing nods from the wife have started.  “Do you care if I head out to hunt for a couple of hours this afternoon?”  She didn’t, so I did.

I chose a spot on my neighbor’s property across the street, and headed in around 4:30 p.m.  He was out running his mower, and we chatted for a bit.  The does are eating down his garden, and they were there around 10:30 a.m. this morning.  I’ll choose that spot during that timeframe soon.  I’m hunting over there with the hope of taking out a doe for them, and instilling some fear in those that remain.  I set up on an inside corner of an open hard wood stand.  I hunted the spot last year, and it’s remarkable how similar the two hunts played out.  

About an hour and a half before sunset, I saw a large bodied deer cut cross the center of the wood lot at somewhere around 200 yards away.  I’m pretty sure this is the deer that I was trying to get a bead on last year.  I know he runs that line right through the middle of the open area, cuts across a little gully, and then heads down the mountain and into the tighter woods.  Does bed down that way along a creek bed.  I don’t have access to that property, though.  One of these days, I’ll set up on that line and actually get good look at him.  Hopefully that happens before rifle when the trespassers stomp around.  Hopefully I’ll put an arrow through him.  Hopefully.

I ended up seeing the does, but it was in the moonlight as I was on my way out.  They hugged close to the lawn, and I set up about 200 yards inside the woods.  I should have known they’d be checking out the fresh cut grass.  I spooked them, but they didn’t run far, and they never winded me, so I’m not worried about hunting there in the next week or so.  

Long-term game is to get set up on that buck at the tail end of his trail across that wood lot.  I think I’d be too exposed setting up a stand in the wood lot because it’s pretty open, and any movement would be easy to see if he’s hanging out at the edge before walking in.  I think my best bet is to wait for a clear day with west or southwest wind, somewhere later this month, or in the first week of November, and head around my neighbor’s house on the backside in the afternoon - maybe a 9:00 am ambush (that would give feeding deer time to leave the woodlot after dawn and give me time to set up) would work, and allow me to see if any other bruisers are using that trail checking for hot does during the mid-day.

I’d head down the gully which is rocky, and while probably hard to walk, it will be a less likely trail for deer to pick up my scent.  I’d be crossing his trail leaving the wood lot going this way, but I don’t have access to come up into the wind proper.  This is my best option without crossing his trail before he enters the wood lot.  I’ll come up on the back side of that lot, and use some hemlocks and on old logging trail to my advantage, and set up just inside of the thicker tree line.  

But for now, I’ve got to find a way get up on those does.  Oh, and I still haven’t made the time to walk my buddy’s property.  I should do that early next week, maybe on Monday, and bring some reflective tacks.  I wonder if the farmer cut the corn...  I wonder if the apple trees are holding fruit...  I wonder.

Hunting’s more of a personal challenge this year with Jackson having joined us, but I think I’ll get into a good groove in balancing the responsibilities.  I admit that it was hard to be 100% “in the moment” while in stand knowing that the little fella’s back home, but I hope I’m aware enough to see and hear any deer coming my way.

Hunting later this week.  Boss is in town for the first half.  He ain’t a hunter.  Good luck and safe hunting to all afield.

 

Edited October 2, 2017 by Rebel Darling
Grammar

[grampy]

Seems like you have a solid plan in place to put some meat in the freezer, for your family, and some antlers on the wall, for you and your son to admire. Best of luck to ya out there!

[Rebel Darling]

7 hours ago, grampy said:

Seems like you have a solid plan in place to put some meat in the freezer, for your family, and some antlers on the wall, for you and your son to admire. Best of luck to ya out there!

Likewise, Grampy...  Hoping to hear about a harvest from your neck of the woods in a bit!

[Rebel Darling]

I still have to catch up here, and get an entry written down for my doe harvest.  It's been a busy, busy few days. 

Yesterday, my buddy Adam and I honored his dad by recording a song he wrote for his old man with a songwriter named Hal Ketchum.  We then honored him all the more by sitting for a bowhunt last evening. 

I hadn't heard / played on the song but 1 time through, but Adam liked the feel of this take, so we kept it.  I think I missed the mark, but I can't argue with the man here.

Later, during the evening sit, Adam was surrounded by deer for hours.  A couple fawns came my way, and they got the pass.  Right before sunset, Adam let an arrow loose at a buck, and missed him clean and low.  "I can see my dad laughing his ass off at me now," said Adam.

We had a great day.  Here's Adam's words on what the day/song meant for him, followed by a link to the video:

---

"Tomorrow morning, the morning of October 16th, marks 5 years since my father passed away. So much has changed in those five years that sometimes it feels like a lifetime has passed... yet, often there are moments that take me back so vividly that it feels like he never actually left. That happened today, and it was beautiful...

About a year or so after my dad had passed I got a phone call from one of my favorite singer/songwriters of all time, Hal Ketchum. Hal and my dad were close friends growing up and after somehow coming across some of my music, he tracked down my number and called me up. He told me some great stories about him and my dad as young guys just starting out in the world and I filled him in on the more recent years. We also talked a lot about music and at the end of the conversation we decided to collaborate on a song. What we came up with was a tribute to my dad. What I've always found most interesting about the song was that it was written from two completely different perspectives and it came together in a way that perfectly summed up who my father was, how he lived his life and the impact his presence in this world made on those around him from the time he was teenage boy until the day he died.

Today, my friend Michael Poulopoulos came over and spent the day in Cossayuna. We ran through this song about one and a half times as Carl Anderson set up his camera and then we played it again all the way through and never looked back. Carl also managed to capture much of the rest of the afternoon on film and when he got home he put together this cool video. While he was doing so, Mike and I capped the day off with a peaceful evening of deer hunting, which ended in me flinging an arrow directly underneath a 3 point buck right before dark. I could almost hear my old man laughing about it as I walked away from my tree stand flustered and in disbelief.

All in all the entire day was a fitting tribute. I'm glad it all happened the way it did and I'm glad to have good friends to share it with and help me capture it in such a way."

---

 

[Fletch]

Very well done Thanks for sharing!


Sent from my iPhone using Tapatalk

[Rebel Darling]

10/13/17

I saw her before I heard her.  She walked down the same trail I walked in on, head down, nosing the line of Evercalm I left with my boot lugs.  I was about 30’ up and 25 yards out, a hemlock between us, when she veered to my right, off the trail and tacked for a group of beech saplings growing beneath some oaks.  Last year’s doe came in on the same type of day, same wind, similar temperature.  She had veered to my left, though.  

Snap.  She stepped on a twig, paused, looked around, flicked her tail, and bent for acorns.  I knew she would walk into a shooting lane in just a few steps, but the distance would be either 15 or 25 yards.  She chose 15.  I was already standing, full-draw.

Moments earlier, I had been thinking that the day just didn’t feel deer lucky, and I looked around at the woods collecting its gold of mid-Fall morning.  It was cold enough to feel alive, and warm enough to not feel like I was going to shiver off the seat.  Perfect for a tree stand sit, marveling at how the songbirds and sun work together in delivering the day.  I snapped a pic, posted it on the Live from the Woods thread, and as I put my phone away, I saw her peer around through the hemlock branches.  My heart jumped.  

I should have stopped her. I should learn to do that in the thick and tight woods.  She was slightly quartered to, and took a step closer as I released the arrow.  10 yards, 25’ up.  I made a second mistake.  I picked up my head instead of watching the arrow through the sight.  Stupid mistake.  No follow-through.  Inexperienced eagerness.  She grunted out a breath as the arrow cut into her.  A lung, I thought.  She turned and bolted away, and I saw the arrow sticking out of her.  Shit, her spine, I thought.  But she didn’t immediately drop.  She ran close to a tree, and the arrow snapped.  I hadn’t heard that sound before, and it startled me.  Through the leaves, I saw her bed down, tail flicking right before she did.  I think that’s a good sign, I thought.

I waited a few seconds and then ran the scenario through my mind.  I was confused.  I knew that the entry point would be high because of the proximity, and back because of my lack of follow-through and her step forward.  There’s no way the arrow hit her spine because she took off running full-bore.  I didn’t break her back.  There’s no way.  I decided I’d made a poor shot of some sort, and would have to wait an hour to get down slowly, and try and stalk up on her bed with the hope of a kill shot.  At least the wind was in my favor.  I knocked another arrow out of habit and sat down.

At that moment, another doe came along, cautious and curious.  She walked into the same shooting lane.  She chose 25 yards.  I was still seated, ruminating on my poor marksmanship.  I’ve done enough damage today, I thought, and watched the scene unfold, hoping to learn something.  Like Grampy told me, “Let the deer teach you.  The deer will teach you.”

The second doe meandered down the path the arrowed doe ran, looking up and ahead every few steps.  When she arrived near the bedding spot, she stood for a few seconds, turned her head a few times, and walked back towards the way she came.  She was alone now.  She never looked back.  That other doe’s dead, I thought, and started to think I had made a better shot than I initially thought.  I got excited about a good harvest on my third hunt of the season.

Four turkey pecked their way across the woods, following the second doe.  Damn, they’re slower than a grandma at the market, I thought, and decided I’d wait for them to wander away before I lowered my bow and climbed down. In the end, they spotted me 20 minutes later from 80 yards away, They hurried off in a line, and I doubt they’ll be back any time soon.

On the ground, I stalked over to the point of impact and scanned for blood.  A few drops about 10’ away started me on her trail.  I crept along, an eye on the blood trail and an eye on the area I saw her bed in about 50 yards away.  No movement, so I went on.

At the tree where the arrow snapped, the blood trail widened and was easier to see.  No arrow after a quick scan.  About a minute later, I saw her white belly, and legs extended out.  She was dead.  I knew it, but crept towards her all the same.  I nudged her backside with my foot, and after she didn’t respond, I pulled off my face mask, stowed my spare arrow in the quiver, and got to work.  First a photo, some text messages, another forum post, and then field dressing.  I felt relief.  She went down quick, and didn’t suffer.  I thanked her for her offering, and allowed the joy of harvest to spread throughout me.

When I moved her for better positioning, I noticed an exit wound on her opposite side, low and back with stomach matter coming out.  This surprised me.  I thought the broad head had lodged somewhere in her skeleton.  The angle from entry to exit made sense, but at this point I became really confused.  All my prior deer kills were complete pass through shots from similar distances with the same set up.  Same fixed blades, same bow setup.  I must have lost energy somewhere, but I couldn’t, and still can’t figure this one out.

After field dressing, rinsing down, and packing with ice, I went back to the blood trail to search for the arrow and broad head.  I found the back piece of the arrow about 15’ from the tree she broke it on.  It had blood on it up to about 5 inches from the fletching.  Better penetration than I thought.  I walked the trail for an hour longer, and didn’t find the broad head.  It wasn’t in the gut pile.  It wasn’t in her body cavity.  It had clearly penetrated her hide on the other side, but I didn’t find it.  I spent an hour and a half on Saturday looking for the broad head, and haven’t found it yet.  I’m concerned by a three-headed razor sitting out there.  An animal, or a person is likely to step on it someday, and my imagination takes me to a scene in which Jackson’s out there playing and he steps on it.  I’m thinking about buying a metal detector…

The other mystery is trying to determine why the arrow slowed down upon entry.  I can’t find any evidence that suggests I nicked or hit her spine, and I’ve not yet had trouble with rib bones.  I’m pulling back 60lbs, and every shot prior to this one buried the arrow in the dirt on the opposite side.

Here are some thoughts on the why, and if I ever find the broad head, maybe I’ll discover the answer:

- The broad head was dull.  This is unlikely, but I guess it’s possible.  The arrow has been placed in the quiver numerous times.
- The broad head wasn’t screwed on tight.  This is unlikely.  I’m also unsure of what this might do to arrow flight path.
- Something is wrong with the bow.  I think this is unlikely.  I’ve not made any changes since the bow’s initial shop set up when I bought it in 2015, and it had killed four other deer with complete pass throughs.
- Her stomach was full and thick with grass, leafy browse and acorns.  Maybe this tight pack slowed the arrow down.  I’m thinking this is possible.
- The broad head hit a rock on her opposite side which absorbed all the energy.  Judging by the point of impact, this may have happened, but I think it unlikely.  The broad head will be a tell-all on this theory.

The mystery aside, I’m very pleased with and honored by the doe harvest, and consider myself very lucky on the retrieval.  In the end, severing her aortic artery is what did her in.  Her body cavity was flooded with blood, and I think I smashed up one of her kidneys, and clipped a lung.  I lost a few inches of her right backstrap.  I should have stopped her, and brought myself to better focus upon release, but I was much more deer lucky than I had thought I’d be right before I saw her.  I might not be so lucky next time, and better get back to form and focus when flinging arrows at the target.

 

[Fletch]

Congratz on the doe and the well written tale of it all.

[Rebel Darling]

Thanks, Fletch!  I've got a lot of learning to do...  Man, it keeps getting better.  The challenge evolves.

[grampy]

The song with your friend, and the story of the doe hunt were excellent Mike! Enjoyed them very much.  Nice work on both!  So good to have a hunter be able to express himself in a contrite, modest and caring manner. And not the "smoked em" fist pumping that is seen on TV. Of course after meeting you, I already knew what kind of hunter and guy you are. A darned good one.  Congratulations my friend.

Edited October 17, 2017 by grampy