On November 5 I got into my chair around 3:30 PM to get ready for the evening hunt. It was my eighth sit of bow season. I put on my dark camouflage Mossy Oak sweatshirt, my lucky Mossy Oak beenie, my Mossy Oak facemask while dad attached the Carbon Express Intercept crossbow to my wheelchair. Then as usual I have him cock the bow and I am ready to head to the blind. The hunting blind is only 80 yards from my bedroom. That doesn't suck. Very handy.
It was a really slow night. I believe the temperature was 60° when I got into the blind. I didn't know if the warm temperatures were going to keep the deers from moving during daylight hours or not. But with the rut to just about start you can never tell what they are going to do. It was also pretty windy. The wind was around 15 mph coming out of the west, with higher gusts. This is a perfect wind for where I am sitting. Well any wind from the west or northwest is perfect because I am south and east of where the deers usually come from. This is the same spot I have shot my last three bow bucks. This location is either hit or miss but eventually stuff and things happen here. Especially during prime time, when the bucks are roaming looking for standing heat.
This night was different because there was nary any vermin. There were no rabbits. There were no squirrels. And there were only a couple annoying blue jays squawking around to entertain me. As I was waiting for that golden half-hour when the deer usually move, I decided I would text my sister Shelie. I sent her a text at 4:43 PM asking her, "How has it been going?" She responded at 5:11 PM with, "Need to hang with you one of these nights." Sunset was at 5:09 PM. If something was going to happen it was going to happen quickly.
I was just about to text her back when I heard some branches breaking to the north of me. I could tell it was not a squirrel or other vermin. Where the noise was coming from is kind of a jungle of trees. All of a sudden I saw antlers making their way through the brush. This buck was making his own trail through the small saplings of undergrowth below the tall trees. He looked like a 5 x 5 when he was making his way through. He looked big and I knew if he gave me a shot I was going to take it. It took him a while to get through the belt but I knew he was coming directly towards me. When he got out of the belt he was only 10 yards away. The problem was he was facing me. I wanted to wait for a broadside shot. He was calm and collected. He wasn't anxious or excited. I knew if I was patient he would give me a shot. The wind was from the west and he came from the north, so he had no clue where I was. I was south of him, looking north/northwest. All of a sudden there was a gust of wind from the west and he raised his head and looked in that direction. His backend came towards the south and he was almost perfectly broadside. Just a little bit quartering towards me. I had him in my scope already waiting for him to make his final mistake. I aimed right behind his left shoulder and pulled back on the trigger. The next thing I knew was I saw his back legs kick high in the air and I heard the crack of the arrow busting through him. As soon as he was hit he ran directly southwest, which is very rare. Usually they bust straight west or straight north after they are shot. I listened but I did not hear him crash. I heard him bust through some old tree growth but I never heard him do the crappie flop.
Now the waiting starts. I knew it was a good shot. But even sometimes if you know it is good shot, stuff and things happen. And sometimes those stuff and things that happen are not good stuff and things. But I was pretty confident with the whole scenario that just took place. I try to follow the arrow when I shoot at a deer but it is pretty hard to follow an arrow that is flying at 365 feet per second. My Carbon Express Intercept crossbow makes things happen not slow, especially when your target is only 10 yards away. Giggity.
It is so hard to wait. But you need to do that in order to make sure that the game expires and you do not push it. So I decided to text my sister back. This is what I said at 5:27 PM, "I was going to respond to you right away but then a buck came in and I shot it so that's what just happened. Cross your fingers. That we find it." She responded, "Holy! I hope so too!"
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| The tall 4 x 4 that came in second. |
I next called my mom at the house and asked her if she could bring out some water because I just shot a buck. She knows if I call during daylight something is up. I could tell in her voice she was excited. She said, "Was it big?" I told her to wait about 10 minutes or so. The next thing I did was I called Don B. He answered with his usual suspicious hello when I call him when he knows I am bow hunting. I told him what happened and he said he would call our friend T-rav and head on out. They are my tracking and gutting crew. Don also told me to have my mom make him a sammich because he was, "STARVING!" So like a good boy I did what I was asked. So when I got off the phone with my mom about the food order I heard some more noise to the north. All of a sudden I could see antlers coming, this time through the path that goes through the shelter belt to my north. I could tell it was big. Not small he was. Bigger than the buck I just shot. He came into the same spot where the other guy was standing. It was the tall 4 x 4 I have had on a couple different trail cams all year. He is a doozy. He stood in front of me for maybe 30 seconds. Even if I didn't shoot that other one earlier, I still didn't have a shot at this guy. He was anxious and jittery. He was either looking for a fight or another f-word. But he was so rutiful, so beautiful. But he strutted right out of my dreams. I hope he makes it through the season. Because he would be another shoulder mount.
The next thing I knew he walked to the west and I heard the house door close. Mom was on her way out. All of a sudden I heard another noise in the trees. The noise was coming from the north again. This time it was a little basket rack 4 x 4. He was standing in the same exact spot the two others stood. But his attention was quickly looking straight south towards the opening where my mom was walking. He wasn't too freaked out but he ran to the west. It really sucks that my trail cam did not take any pics during all of this. It is crazy that there were three buckaroos in the same exact spot within fifteen minutes probably. When she got to the pop-up blind she lifted the front of the blind and I drove out while I told her the story. She said she heard that last buck and saw it run away when she was walking up. We then made our way back to the shop to wait for Don B and T-rav. It wasn't too much longer and I heard a pickup pull-up. It was them. My dad also pulled up right behind them. So we made our way back to the scene.
On the way to the scene Don B munched on one of the ham sammiches that Deb thankfully made. He even let T-rav have one. When we got back to the crime scene I reenacted what the buck did. We looked around for blood on the spot where he was shot. There was nothing. Then they both looked for my arrow in the trees behind where he was standing. There was no luck. We wanted to see if there was a good blood on the arrow. Could not find the arrow. So we decided to look for blood in the direction where he ran. There was no blood where he ran either. My heart dropped. That is a sucky feeling. Then Don B made a plan that T-rav would follow where the buck ran to, he would circle around and see if the buck came out the other side of the trees. It wasn't more than a couple minutes later and Don B yelled, "Here he is!" I was relieved. Because it is never a sure thing.
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| Picture taken at 5:57 PM. |
As I was making my way down the path Don B said, "He is a good buck!" I was getting excited as I made my way to him and there was no ground shrinkage when I finally spotted him. He was a 5 x 4. Evidently I counted wrong in the excitement earlier. His neck was all swolled up and he stunk. He was definitely in rut. We decided to pull him back to the opening where he was shot to take some pictures. They both grabbed a side of the antlers and drug him the short distance. T-rav said as we were making our way, "I would not have passed up this buck. Congrats buddy."
From where he tipped over from where he was shot was probably 25 yards. That is good stuff. I think I've only had two other deer that traveled less distance after getting shot. The weird thing about this guy was that there was very little blood anywhere. It would have been a hard track if he made it farther but good thing my Muzzy Trocar 100 grain broadheads did a lot of internal damage. The arrow was not in him and it was a clean pass through, through both lungs and part of the liver. The inside of him was a pool. No wonder he did not make it very far. I saved the heart and liver so I can eat like a king. But before we gutted him we took some pictures. They even turned out pretty good. Well how could they not with the three of us…
After they got him gutted, my dad came out with the Bobcat and they put him in the bucket. That worked pretty slick. Thought about hanging him in the shop overnight but with the warm temperatures I decided to bring him to the meat locker in town. Dad drove the Bobcat towards my pickup and he lifted the bucket perfectly so we could slide the buck right into the pickup box. I told the boys after we get the deer to the locker we are going to hit the Spare Time for celebratory libations and to raise a little hell. They agreed after I twisted their arms. On the way to town I called Kevin, the owner of Maple Valley Meats to tell him what the plan was. He told me congrats and to send him pics. I also called Sarah to tell her the good news. Plus I had a conversation with Uncle Joe.
Once we got to the locker it didn't take long for dad to get everything done. Easy peasy. It pays to know people. Good people. After that we walked over to the Spare Time and met mom. I ordered the first round of drinks and pretty soon my sister Shelie and her husband Brad were there. Also Tito and Mr. French showed up. Mikey and Randi were also part of the celebration. The rounds were plenty and often. It was a good time. There was a lot of stuff and things that were talked about. But I knew I got in the chair at 3:30 PM and I didn't want to stay out too late. I try to keep my chair time below eight hours a day. Plus it was a school night for the other people that are not retired. I believe we got home around 11 PM. By this time I was starving and needed something to eat. I didn't get an earlier sammich. But I got a huge bowl of chicken tortilla soup that did not suck. I then proceeded to go to bed. Some might call it passing out. To each their own.
I didn't hunt that much this bow season but the hunts that I did do were good stuff. I have hunted some prime land on the Red River and Sheyenne River, plus my home base. Thanks everyone who made these hunts possible. I want to thank everyone who helps me do what I love to do. Without all of you I don't know what I would do. You know who you are. Thank you.
Soon the freezer will be full of perfect, tasty deer meat and every time I take a bite I will remember. I will remember this hunt. Every hunt has a story and every story becomes a memory. I love these memories. It is what I live for.
Next up is a North Dakota mule deer buck tag in unit 4C. Stay tuned…
Thanks for reading, Clint.
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