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A quick note for posterity:

I'm proud today. I bought my three month old son's Lifetime Sportsmans' License from the Town Clerk. In a few more months, I'll have saved enough to purchase his Lifetime Bowhunters' License.

Here's to hoping he's a hunter...


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My current view: a laptop, a desktop screen, a bowl with the leftover smears of yogurt and granola, a coffee mug, a phone.  In the background I hear the hotel tradeworker union protest on Albany's State Street, and keyboard clacking from my co-workers.  The furnace kicked on and the air smells like stagnant dust.

My mind, though, is miles away tucked neatly into the dream of a run-and-gun stand sit on the mountain this Friday afternoon.  The weather forecast is showing me preferable, if not ideal winds from the west, and decent temps.  Well, decent temps for what we've experienced to-date.  I plan to hunt a buck I've named Home Boy.

While the morning will be perfect, and I have all day to hunt, I haven't decided on where to hunt the morning.  I can't get my mind off imagining the afternoon hunt.  I'm going to head in a little after mid-day, say 2 pm, and come in around my neighbor's barn and house on the west (my only decent access point), dip into the ditch/gully, and walk until I cross Home Boy's trail.  At that point, I'll cut south, downwind of his trail and walk parallel for 30 yards towards his point of entry into the woodlot.  There's a few hemlocks before the dip into the ditch, and I'll pick a tree within them to hide my outline.  The trees are mostly bare up on the mountain, and most of the leafy trees are now toothpicks.

If my plan holds true, and Home Boy cooperates, I'll see him hang by the edge of the woodlot and then trot across pausing just before he heads down into the ditch to cross over into some thicker cover and down to a creek.  It's at this point that I imagine letting an arrow fly about 20 yards.  I can already imagine a crashing sound in the thicker cover, an easy blood trail, and the elation of coming up on him.

Let's see if that dream materializes in anything remotely close.

A sip of coffee, and it's time to pay attention to my email...

Edited by Rebel Darling
Grammar
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So cool when dreams become reality. You'll see what I mean this Friday.  You got this my friend. You are more than good enough to pull it off and make it happen!  Good luck and best mojo coming your way from here!

Nice to know I'm not the only one who dreams of hunting, while at work!!!

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33 minutes ago, grampy said:

So cool when dreams become reality. You'll see what I mean this Friday.  You got this my friend. You are more than good enough to pull it off and make it happen!  Good luck and best mojo coming your way from here!

Nice to know I'm not the only one who dreams of hunting, while at work!!!

"The Live from the Woods" thread has mostly been "Live from Work, Dreaming of the Woods, and Jealous of Those Who Actually are in the Woods."  Ha...

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I am exhausted.  After a weekend of late nights, friends, and a ton of music in both Woodstock and Saratoga, the power dropped out during Sunday's wind and rain.  Fortunately, the wood stove was already cooking as my buddy and I unwound over a few beers.  My first thought in the darkness was of the sump pump, and I spent the entire night waking every forty minutes to bail out the sump and preventing the basement from flooding.  That lasted through most of Monday, too.  I still have to cut up the tree that fell.  Fortunately, it fell alongside the driveway, not across it, and not on the wood shed.  I am exhausted.  I am researching generators.  I am not hunting today.

Friday night's hunt was a bust as far as Home Boy is concerned.  He was a no-show, but right as light started to fade, I heard deer running through the woods, and instead of getting down, I focused in with the hopes of a shot within the dwindling minutes of legal light.  Just a few doe chasing each other through the woods.  They came right up to my stand, clearly drawn in by the Evercalm.  The lead doe seemed agitated by the new scent in her home woods.  The other two were merely curious, and eventually wandered off.  That lead doe, though, she investigated every inch, and visually checked me at 20' up a few times.  I was still.  She never spooked.  20 minutes after legal light, she decided she'd had enough and loped off to meet up with the other two.  It was date night, and I was late, so I hurried down and paid less attention to my surroundings than I should have.  I'll have to let that spot cool off for a while before hunting it again.

I had shots on each doe.  I passed on each of them.  The plan is to get myself up on a buck and to challenge myself to learn as much as possible about the necessities involved while making mistakes - I'm going to make them.  Hell...  I hope to recognize the mistakes.  That's the first necessity.  At that point, I can learn more.

I think I need to get tighter into tree cover, and the climber doesn't really provide me with that option.  With the climber, I not only need a perfect, limbless tree, I need a perfect, limbless tree within a group of perfect cover trees, near the right deer sign.  Too many variables without obsessive scouting, and I don't have that kind of time this year.

To get in tighter, I think I have to dedicate time to familiarizing myself with the climbing sticks and getting the hang-on stand set up and taken down while on them.  I'm really not looking forward to lugging more gear around (including the sticks and linesman's belt), nor am I looking forward to dedicating more time and thought to what I really need while in stand.  But I need to lighten the load in any way, and get lean and mean.  Oh, and fast, so I should just get over it and deal.  With the power back on, maybe I can start to do that this evening.  But man, I am exhausted.

Edited by Rebel Darling
Grammar
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  • 3 weeks later...
On 10/20/2017 at 4:01 PM, Rebel Darling said:

A quick note for posterity:

I'm proud today. I bought my three month old son's Lifetime Sportsmans' License from the Town Clerk. In a few more months, I'll have saved enough to purchase his Lifetime Bowhunters' License.

Here's to hoping he's a hunter...


I'm all thumbs when using Tapatalk

I wish they discounted the bow and muzzleloader when you bought them for the little ones. My oldest 2 years 10 months has his lifetime courtesy of his great grandfather I wasn't expecting him to do that it was a great surprise. No doubt you will figure out real quick if they are into hunting my 2 year old loves every second of hunting videos, walking around the woods putting up cameras the whole shabang. That is all my oldest talks about. My youngest is 9 months and his great grandfather said he is buying his, and likes watching hunting shows too. I'm going to go broke buying them all their gear and guns.

Edited by chas0218
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Tuesday, November 14.  It was just after 9:00 a.m.  A snow flurry kicked up into a squall, and made its way into the woods.  The sky was a blanket of grey wool, and it was a great time to be sitting in the stand.  It was an awful time to be cold.  I was texting with a buddy about frozen toes, and getting ready to pack it up, climb down, and check the trail cam, when I peered over my right shoulder.  It was an effortless, instinctual movement.  I don’t know what prompted it.  I don’t think I even realized what I was doing until I set eyes on a lone doe wandering down the hill.  She wasn’t on any worn path, and if she had moved 20 yards to her left, she would have winded me long before she stepped into bow range.  She didn’t, and I remained undetected from her best defense.

The hillside behind me is an understory of young beech trees, so I had a short while for her to walk past a hemlock and down to the old logging trail.  I set  “The Doe Stand” near that trail.  It was there I’d get a shot.  I stood slowly, lifted my bow off the hanger, and tracked her movements right down to her twitching leg.  It was during this time I committed to the hunt.  But even as I did, a voice in the back of my mind spoke up, and said, “you know, a buck might be following her a ways back, it’s the rut,” but that voice faded.  I committed.  I decided that I would take her life, if presented with the gift and the offering.

For the first time as a hunter, I felt totally in control while also knowing that I had no idea how this deer would move.  All of my preconceptions and anticipations disappeared.  I was learning, through this moment, how to dissolve my expectations from my reality and to live only in the hunt.  My heart raced, but I knew I would control my movements, despite the blood and adrenaline rush.  

As she stepped closer, I hoped that she’d walk to the left side of the hemlock.  She didn’t, and put the trunk between us.  I then had to hope that she would step into the five by five foot window I created when I trimmed out a few limbs last season.  I was at full draw before she decided.  My pin hovered as she walked passed the trunk.  It was a shot I’ve imagined dozens of times, and I now found myself drawn, ready to realize its execution.  She did.  She entered the window.  I took a quiet breath, let out half, and held the rest.

I knew I’d have to stop her, something I hadn’t done before.  I set the pin.  “Meh.”  She tensed up, quartered away at 18 yards, and I pulled the trigger on the release almost instantly.  It was a natural reaction, as natural as her tensing, and I tracked that arrow through the sight.  I watched a dark spot on her left side deepen and spread, damn close to where I wanted the arrow placed.  The seconds strung themselves out in slow motion, and I knew it was a lethal shot.  It was over.

After my call and the arrow, she bounded about 30 feet, then stopped and looked around.  My eyes were open wider than hers.  She clearly had no idea that she’d been shot, walked a few more feet, and scent checked the trail.  Seconds after that and a few more feet, she stopped, slowly hunched her back and flicked her tail three or four times.  Then she just fell over, toppled and kicked for a few seconds.  She stopped moving.

I was calm.  The woods were calm.  The Mountain Chickadees sang out as they flew across the woods.  I was attentive.  I stared at her through the trees for what seemed like a long while, but was likely only a couple of minutes.  I sent a few text messages, and that same joy of harvest I’d experienced less than a month before returned to me, and I was grateful for it.  I hung up my bow.  The season was over.  Two does for the freezer.  I sent a few more text messages, and replied to the congratulatory ones rolling in.  In my excitement, I coughed, and she kicked in response.  I went silent.  A few seconds passed, and I stared at her, in part out of fear.  She kicked again and tried to get up.  My heart sank.  “I only wounded her,” I thought.

I collected my sprawling thoughts, lowered the bow, packed up, climbed down, knocked an arrow and started walking towards her.  I found the spent arrow buried in the ground, the fletching covered in bright red blood.  Evidence of a good shot.  I crept closer, knees on springs, neck craned, wind in my favor.  She was always in view.  I stepped lightly on the dry leaves trying not to disturb her.  I came around her far side, and saw her eyes, wide open, clouded as if Death placed fresh cataracts in the eyes of the recently passed.  I let out a breath and felt relief.  I returned the arrow into the quiver and put the bow down.

On my knees, I looked her over and saw the exit wound, just behind her right leg.  I made a good shot, but she fought hard to hold on.  I placed my hand on her chest, and thanked her for the honor in her struggle, and for the gift of life she now offered my family.  I stayed that way for a long while, and felt a calm joy seep into my body.  I didn’t want the hunt to end, and it took me a full 30 minutes to compose myself long enough to begin field dressing.

Looking back on the hunt while staring at the doe hanging in my garage, it became easy to see that this doe was special, not only for the meat she’ll provide my family, but in that she represented a change in my approach to bow hunting.  That change has been a result, in part, of this forum.  This forum has influenced me in a variety of ways, and over the last week of bow season, posts from moog, Belo, and reeltime, and advice from grampy mixed together into two general realizations: 1 - I haven’t worked hard enough to deserve a shot at a mature buck.  2 - At this stage in my hunting life, it is too early for it to even be about the buck.

When I saw reeltime’s post, a short while before I saw that lone doe, I immediately knew that I needed to invest more of myself into strategic setups, and more rigorous scouting in order to deserve a buck.  grampy has gifted me an active and promising spot, but I need to work harder to deserve the buck that’s in there.  I suppose showing up and placing myself in the right position with the right wind is the majority of that work left for me, but how I came to that knowledge, well, it feels like I’m cheating.  Don’t get me wrong, I’m probably going back, if I get a chance, but that realization hit me hard.

moog and Belo’s posts about harvesting the right deer have sat with me since I read them, and I think that they made me realize that I was losing focus on why I was in the woods.  I was there to provide my family with meat, and since I hadn’t put in the proper work to get up on a buck, antlers and those extra pounds should wait until I deserve them.  It couldn’t be about the buck. I didn’t deserve it.  So when I saw that doe hanging from the rafters, I saw her for what she was when she first appeared in the beech understory.  A gift.  An offering.  A special hunt influenced by so many, and experienced by only she and I.

So thank you, folks, and have a happy Thanksgiving!  I’m putting some of this doe out for the family to enjoy.

 

Edited by Rebel Darling
Grammar
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  • 1 month later...
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  • 6 months later...

This year is going to present a new challenge for me up here in 4L. For the past few years that I’ve lived here, we’ve had good acorn crops. This year, however, I’m going to have to learn more about other food sources because the acorn crop was slight, and early. I’ve noticed an activity drop off on trails that were regular these past few years.

I’m thinking that the doe are heading over the ridge regularly to mow down the food plots the hunting family has cultivated, this changing up their pattern in light of a lack of fresh food sources on this side of the ridge. All the apple trees dropped in early September, so that won’t hold them here either.

One good thing is that the marsh at the back of my property line places me between primo buck bedding and the food source I mentioned. Maybe this year will be the year I tag a buck. They’re going to have to travel longer distances between that bedding, food and doe.


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  • 3 weeks later...

First time out in over a week this afternoon.  For one reason or another (no point in going into detail here), my hunts kept getting cancelled.  I missed four scheduled hunts, in total.  Time has been tough to come by this year, and I'm a little nervous and frustrated that I have yet to harvest a doe for meat.

Got in the woods later than I had hoped.  Sat an area on my neighbor's property that I'd only sat once before, during the second week (maybe the first?) of November last year.  I saw some chasing through the trees then, so I figured I'd give the spot a closer look and a sit.

Saw no deer.  Got pelted and wet in the hail storm, but both my outerwear and base layer kept me pretty warm.  The outer layer is definitely better suited for spot and stalk hunts.  I was on the ground this afternoon, due to the storm rolling through.

Right before the storm hit, I watched several turkeys at about 40 yards (no comfortable shot) and then roost about 60-70 yards out.  I'm thinking I should go back before dawn tomorrow and set up to catch them off the roost, heading down the hill to water.  I've never really hunted turkey before, so I'm a bit clueless here, but it seems like that's the right strategy.  But...  They're real close to the property line that I'm allowed to hunt, and I'm concerned that they'd be off the property before official sunrise.  I'm torn on whether I should try the bow, or shotgun...

The spot looks promising for deer.  There are some old rubs in the area, and there's a fairly well established deer trail.  Since all the leaves are now falling, it's hard to tell how fresh the sign is; it's being covered up throughout the day.  Since I saw action there during early November, I'll likely sit there again.  It works well for a south or southwest wind. 

 

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Was only able to hunt a couple of times this past week, but I learned some.

On Wednesday morning, I had hunted a spot I normally reserve for afternoons.  I got in pretty early, because I had wanted to see or hear something cutting through this pinch point, figuring it'd be before shooting light.  Well, I did hear something coming through, but it was right around my entry trail, behind me, and to my left.  Footsteps, and then...  Nothing.  When I got down, I walked the same trail out, and there was a real fresh and large pile of scat on my trail.  It was still greenish and shiny.  I'll take that as a message from either the buck I've hunted these past couple of years, or another: "find another entry, friend.  I'm onto you."  So there's that...  Ha.

That afternoon, I scouted / still hunted a new spot in a community forest, and found some old (maybe last year), monster rubs.  Like...  2.5 feet tall and a few inches wide.  There were a series of them leading in and out of a marsh area with tall cattails and thicker brush.  There was one scrape that looked fresh-ish - only one or two leaves in it, but that was a bit of a ways away, and I had my doubts as to whether it was natural, or man-made.  I didn't find any other scrapes, nor fresh rubs, and it didn't look like there were any hoof prints in it, so I'm thinking that there's another hunter in there.  By the looks of it, he hasn't gone as far into the area as I did, which may mean that I've really pissed that hunter off, potentially blowing out his target.  I hope not.  I also hope to have time to scout that area and approach from a more intelligent path next time.  The onX maps have been a huge help in locating potential spots, and marking them up while I'm in them.  My memory is pretty damn good, but that'll change, and this saved data won't.  That topo map, aligned with the property lines gives me a somewhat difficult, but accessible path with a Northwest wind.  I'll have to send up milkweed along my planned route to make sure that the hills ain't playing with my scent.

Yesterday, I went turkey/small game hunting with a buddy on state land for a couple-few hours.  We lost a squirrel who fell into a hole in a tree after my buddy shot him.  We probably spent 20-30 mins trying everything we could think of to get this dead maple on the ground, or get one of us up it.  Unfortunately, the tree was too strong to topple, and too rotted to climb.  We had to give up on the squirrel, and that dampened the mood a bit.

We perked up a bit when I came across a large, fresh buck bed.  Each leaf was matted down, and it was all by itself at the intersection of thick maple and beech saplings, an oak ridge, and a patch of hemlocks.  It lay on the opposite side of the ridge to which the wind ran over.  Classic positioning.  We found his rub line, with a few fresh ones, and I mean fresh.  Like he had just run his tines over the saplings for the first time kind of fresh.  We both had to hike it out not long after that, and I wasn't able to get the time to hunt it that afternoon.  I'm looking for a southeast wind to hunt that ridge bed.  Man...  I wish we had been deer hunting instead.  We could have set up over it.  It wasn't to be, though, so I'll have to call on that if I can and when the conditions are right...

I think I can get out for an afternoon hunt tomorrow.  I wish I could hunt the morning.  I didn't see any deer out on my way home this evening, so I'm betting they'll be in and out of feeding late tomorrow, after/around sunrise.  It'd be nice to be out there waiting for them.  Maybe they'll get on their feet tomorrow evening too...  Gotta find those does with regularity, but it's tough up here these days.  They're definitely traveling longer distances than I've seen them in years past.  Damn acorn crop...  Ha.  Gotta find them soon...

Edited by Rebel Darling
grammar
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  • 2 weeks later...

I missed a doe this evening at 26 yards.  Man...  Should have been cutting up a deer right now.

Before I headed out, I let a few arrows fly to make sure I was comfortable to 30 yards.  I was good, but my nerves got the best of me, and I pulled the shot low.  Clean miss.  No wounds, nothing.  That is the biggest relief of missing the mark: missing clean.

The hunt went well, though.  I noticed the two doe and a fawn coming out from the pines the border a creek at about 3:30.  They took their time making their way across the wood lot, but never presented me with a shot, and were behind my tree.  The doe, and her fawn headed up and away, but the solo doe kept walking parallel, but at 45 yards, or so.  Once she crossed to the other side of my tree, I let out a couple of bleats to stir some curiosity.  She took note, but didn't appear interested.  I lost sight of her in a group of hemlocks, and figured she'd keep walking that line across the woods and away with my chances.  I was wrong.

At about 4:05, I noticed that her curiosity got the best of her, and she was at my left at 30 yards scanning for the source of the bleat.  I wasn't ready for a shot, so I got ready in case.  After a bit, she circled in front, and presented me with a 26 yard quartering away.  It was in the climber, and had an awkward time trying to position myself so that my draw arm wasn't knocking into the tree behind me.  I situated myself, let out a "meh", and released.  I could feel myself trying to watch the arrow even before I released it, pulling the bow down and away.  Bad mistake, and it cost me some good meat in the freezer.

Luckily the doe never made me, and she just bounded off a bit before checking her surroundings.  She never blew out.  After a few second surveillance, she bounded off deeper into the woods, and I waited until dark to get down.

I learned a lot this evening, but clearly, I need to learn a lot more.

Edited by Rebel Darling
Grammar
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