Mini-Brown Down

The day grew light, wind was in my face, the forest floor laid quiet with faint sika stag bugles in the distance. Josh and I had entered the forest at o'dark thirty and crunched our way across the woods. The trail was lit like a major highway with the abundance of trail tacks from other hunters. The boat ride was smooth and brisk. I can say that the additional lights installed on the boat provided a sense of ease while traveling the marsh creek in the dark. Even with our hunting gear, the boat leveled out and made for a 2 mile ride to the forest edge, located in the middle of the marsh,

Last year's season was lit with moonlight overhead like someone upstairs leaving the nightlight on. This year was different, as the moon didn't provide that opportunity. Two fog lights and a handheld spot light later, we arrived safely without hitting those darn sandbars. This was only the second chance for me to utilize my new climbing tree stand. Surprising it went well, once you get your technique worked out. Before I knew it the forest began waking up, with birds chirping and squirrels rustling under the leaves in search of food.

The initial hike and climb up the tree had got my blood pumping and worked up a bit of heat. By utilizing my layers and a few unzips I was able to cool off effectively. Okay, its game time, face paint check, slim jim for breakfast check, and a bottle of coke to keep awake for the next few hours, double check! I faced the trail we walked in head on, the marsh to my right, and some where further in the forest Josh to my backside.

This section of forest allowed clear view of multiple shooting lanes and at great distance to detect movement. It wasn't long though, A spiked stag had almost followed our footsteps toward my stand. I couldn't believe it was going to come together so fast on the first day of the hunt. Pulling up my rangefinder, I waited for the stag to stop and provide a shooting stance. Just prior to arriving to my stand location, he turned to my left and stopped. Range finder read 31 yards and my crossbow said shoot.

The bolt made such a hollow sound when it struck his mid section. The shot was solid and the bolt passed through laying behind his trail away from the crime scene. Call CSI because that little booger is going to be piled up somewhere. Excitement began to fill my body and with a quick press of my SPOT gps, messages were sent out to my wife and friends to let them know a deer was down. About 20 minutes went by as sitting in the stand felt like an hour,

Enough was enough, the climbing stand shimmied its way down to the ground and the search began. Where to start, well being I didn't see the deer fall down in my view then I turned to the place of impact. My crossbow bolt was sticking out the ground. I picked it up and inspected it closely. No blood lay on the bolt surface but more of a greasy film. Well maybe the bolt passed through so fast, blood wasn't able to be generated?

Well I started the general trail toward the direction of where the animal exited my view. Before doing that, I left arrow at the point of impact to reference it if needed. It only took about 15 yards and the blood trail began. Good size blobs were being dropped and easy to follow. With my head down I followed it quickly when to my surprise the sika was sitting by a tree watching me follow him. I could see the wound and he had only gone about 80 yards from the point of impact. I loaded another bolt and put a clean shot on his front shoulder. This arrow hit home in the honey-hole and again the sika took off.

It wasn't another 30 yards as he turned right toward the marsh and laid down under a tree. I knew the shot was in the vitals and turned away to let the animal expire in peace. This was the moment that truly emulated that I had harvest my first sika stag. They have been referenced as the marsh ghost and eluded hunters for years. Well sign me up with Jennifer Love Hewitt as I took a ghost out of the world.

Until next time, hunt hard and dominate the woods!

Little Red October

This morning felt more like a typical fall hunting season, dew on the windows, seeing your breath in the air, and that absence of sound before the forest wakes up. I left at o'dark thirty from the house, with the full moon being, I figured I could catch the deer while they were still moving. As I drove the windy road to the local hunting spot, I saw a pair of doe sitting at the edge of a traffic intersection. So close to the road that when the light changed green, the deer changed to green as well.

I stopped at the little church just up the road from my spot. This gives me a chance to make my final preparations before stepping into the woods. It provides the opportunity to make noise there and not near my hunting spot. The full moon was shining so bright, I didn't even need my headlights on. I slipped out of the car, tossed by back pack on and grabbed my bow. The deer path is like a little super highway, just follow the path until my exit past the fallen tree and turn right to ground blind. The entry door is left open so quietly get in and settle down.

The forest floor was lit almost like the aisles of a movie theater. The trees were dropping leaves and kept my ears in tune for animal movement. A couple of sounds though echoed that of deer movement. With the grunt call in hand, I made a few light and short calls. These were just enough to say, "I am here, is that you Bob?" Well the deer didn't answer back, instead a nice eight point stepped right past the ground blind. This took my normal hunting pattern and turned it upside down.

The usual entry into the woods goes well until I step on the only loud cracking twig. Then a deer snort here and there and they vanish like dust in the wind. Today, I took my time, slowly walking down deer central station and even posed for a picture at the trail camera. Halfway down the path and a few short blows on the grunt call to mask my foot steps to that of a meandering deer. Before I knew it that hour long sit in dark was over.

So back to the close encounter with the 8th kind, the buck was cruising up the trail so fast that it startled me. I quickly pulled my bow up and began to point. The bow arm hit my tripod and the deer turned 180 and trotted a few steps before coming to a stop. While repositioning the bow to the other window of my ground blind, I slowly took the safety off, laid my eye through the scope, and pulled the trigger. The deer took another couple of steps and stopped like nothing happened. The arrow sounded like it landed about 30 yards away, how could this be. When I peered down the scope prior to shooting it was literally filled with deer body.

This lead to a long sit in the chair wondering about the shot. The shear physics of the miss were mind boggling. The forest grew lighter, blacks and grays now showing up as colors. There is was, the reason the arrow acted out of sort. The mosquito netting through the window had caught the broad head. I knew it was time to check the area for blood but knowing that none would be found. Well at least I can talk about the encounter and take the lesson learned with me. I will take a mosquito bite any day if mean harvesting a big buck.

Until we meet again, little Red October walks to see another day.