My pop,
two good friends and I headed out Friday, Oct 26th
for our final jaunt into the timber. My buddy Carrie held a doe tag,
my pop and Bro both general season rifle tags. I also had a general
season rifle tag, but got lucky this year and drew a doe tag as well.
In Oregon, the 600-series doe tags are any legal means tags, and I
was set on trying to fill my tag with a bow. It was my first time
hunting with a bow I was pumped!
The
first day opened slow. I did see a spike, but he spotted me at the
same time. I tried to stalk him, but hunting ghosts after you’ve
been busted usually doesn’t work well, and this one didn’t
either… (I should note that my tag was for spike or
antlerless deer)
The only
other deer spotted was a nice buck, but by Carrie, the guy with only a doe
tag. Go figure.
I did
flush a couple of ruffed grouse in the afternoon!
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Sunday
was slow, and Carrie had to head home.
Monday I
hunted an area we’ve come to refer to as Sorority House, due to the
many, many does we’ve seen in the area over the years. The spot we
usually focus on is a narrow open path between two heavy stands of
timber near a cut. The critters will usually head into the timber
from the cut, and can be caught passing between the two timber stands
throughout the morning. Right at legal light I had a deer give me
a broadside shot just at the end of my effective range (~40yds)! Hart
thumping, I drew, but in the dim morning light something just didn't look right. I determined it was a fawn
and let down my draw. After a short hesitation, the fawn bounded away,
collecting mom somewhere along the way.
I saw
two more does that morning, but one was well out of range, and the
other I jumped.
That
afternoon I dropped Bro off at a ditched road that didn’t have
vehicle access, planning to pick him up at the other end sometime
after dark. I headed to a parallel ridge to hunt the evening.
Early on I heard a shot from the direction Aaron was hunting!
Score!? Got nothing on the radio so I finished my hunt and swung
around to pick him up. About thirty minutes after dark we made radio
contact, and sure enough, he was on his way – a long way away –
with a deer in tow! I hiked up to meet him and help with the drag.
Ug. What a haul!
Bro certainly put more into it than I did, but it
wiped me out nonetheless. Still a worthy effort for fresh backstrap!
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Despite
getting back to camp late and drained, I managed to get up in time to
get back into Sorority House the next morning about ten minutes before
light. I set up near the cut, but saw and heard nothing, and decided
to move further into the timber about a half hour after sunrise. It
wasn’t long before I heard movement. Again I was too far out and
watched a doe cross swiftly outside of range. As quietly and quickly
as I could, I made a stalk on her, and to my surprise found her over
a small ridge looking back at me at just under 30 yds! She was
initially facing away from me, but took a few steps forward and then
to the right, giving me a very slight quartering away shot. I judged
her at 35 yds, drew, centered my pin, and relieved my release of its
weight. Just as I was releasing she started to move again! No!!!
With the
poor light under the canopy I couldn’t see precisely where the arrow
impacted, but knew it wasn’t optimal. This was not the way I
wanted things to go down. I crept away and fretted and chastised
myself for a couple hours for letting a poor shot escape me.
To make
an already long story a little shorter, it took me another 40 min
after returning to find the blood trail. It was there – I had just
missed the first turn she made. Another 30 min of slow and
deliberate tracking and I was notching my tag. She had gone what
appeared to be a little over 100 yds. The relief of finding her was
immense, and despite a sub-optimal shot, I’m exceptionally proud to
have taken a Blacktail doe with from the ground with a bow. It was
an incredible learning experience and something I’m keen to try
again.
Both
deer were sent back with my pop Tuesday afternoon when he left. With
any luck he’ll retire in the next few years and be able to spend
the full week with us. It always leaves me feeling a little empty to
watch him drive away with so many days left to hunt.
The rest
of Tuesday was spent relaxing. Bro and I both felt that our
seasons had been a success, and I didn’t feel the need to attempt to
fill my rifle buck tag that evening. Time for some good food and
drink.
When the
alarm sounded Wednesday morning I was reminded of just how few days
were left in the season. Time to move! I dressed quickly and headed
to a finger ridge holding multiple rubs that we had scouted earlier,
but this time I carried my boom-stick instead of a bow.
I had
hunted this ridge in the evening once before this season, and several
times in years past, but never in the morning. They must be moving
through here in the morning I reasoned. Of course, I also thought I would
see the buck of a lifetime while I was hunting archery hunting doe,
and that never happened either (whew).
The dry
weather made it slow going, and it was near to sunrise before I had
finally crept to the area where I wanted to sit my stand. I noticed
several new rubs on the way in. It was definitely getting to be
“that time of year!”
Settling
down, I waited while the forest continued to wake up around me. As
is my tendency when sitting a stand, soon my mind drifted to
who-knows-where. Off in my own little world. Just me and that buck
walking towards me. Just – wait a minute! There’s a buck
walking straight towards me!!
In a
flash my rifle was to my shoulder (well, almost to my shoulder, but
I’ll get to that). The motion
of raising my rifle froze him. Not a moment to waste. I looked at
him through the scope. Horns still there? Check. Neck shot? No
dice – his head was too low. I brought the cross hairs down to
just below center on his chest and.. BOOM!
Ouch!
In the instant that followed I watched him spin and dart away, me
left wondering if the shot had been as solid as it appeared, and pondering how I
could have been sucker-punched by deer 45 yds away?
Turns out I had
sucker-punched myself by not properly seating my rifle, and the
recoil had sent the scope straight into my nose. Ouch. Ouch, ouch,
ouch! And several other four letter words. Still… ouch!
I
radioed Aaron, let him know I had one down, and went to get
him to begin the search together. About an hour later and just a few
yards from where the buck was hit we found the blood trail. The shot had
all but severed the heart from the aorta, so tracking took only a few
more steps before we found him piled up. He’s no monster, but a
Blacktail all the same, which makes him a trophy in my book.
He has a
small brow tine on his left side, and after checking the rubs in the
area, we could see its' distinctive mark. How cool is it to get a picture
with your buck in front of one of his own rubs?
The
pack-out went slow, mostly because we were both out of energy. The
next day we spent exploring and grousing (no birds bagged) before
heading out Friday morning. All in all, it was another great year.
As for
the dim-wit that can’t shoulder his rifle? That’d be me. Thanks
for the glamour shot Bro...
Cheers,
-c2
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