Archery Deer Season 2012

I'm well overdue for updating my blog with any sort of outdoor adventure... However, with a successful end to the 2012 deer season, I still wanted to write the story, even if the only person I was writing it for was myself.

While my 2011 deer season ended successfully, it was still a total disaster. I fought trespassers and poachers the whole season long. I seriously contemplated taking a break in 2012. Was it even worth it anymore? What's the point in hunting if it no longer holds any excitement or joy?

However, as the months passed and summer slowly turned into fall, everywhere I looked it seemed deer hunting was the topic of choice. Twitter and Facebook were filled with posts from people out hunting or preparing to do so, the numerous catalogs that started showing up in the mail, and of course, seeing deer every morning and night on my commute (all 3 miles) reminded me of what I loved. As the weather cooled, the excitement of the hunt filled my veins.

a couple of obnoxious does

I pretty much ignored the first part of the season. The hot weather and the thought of ticks, poison ivy and snakes failed to excite me. I didn't even really contemplate hunting until the start of November. Regardless, the 2012 deer season turned into the best hunting season of my life. I didn't get the biggest buck, or even one of the biggest that I saw that season, but it was by far the most enjoyable and memorable seasons I have experienced.

I picked a new spot to sit this year, wedged between a couple of old trees that had fallen. (For those that don't know, I was hunting from the open ground, meaning no blind and no tree stand... because I'm scared to death of heights.) From what I could gather it was an active crossing spot as the deer went to feed and then back to the river and down to bed. The first night at my new spot was incredible! I had deer coming in from all four directions, most of them actually coming from behind me and within 10 yards, some came so close that I could have reached out and touched them. There were several bucks and so many does I couldn't even keep a decent tally, and I did nothing that evening but hold my breath and observe. That first night was exactly what I needed. It reminded me of what hunting was really about, and it renewed my love for the sport.

Every afternoon the deer were as predictable as the setting sun. The only variables were the chasing bucks. One night, just as the sun had set, a large basket rack 8 point and a wide 10 point followed the does into the area. Having limited time to actually hunt this season, and the opportunity in front of me to take a gorgeous deer, I drew my bow back intent on taking the larger 10 point. I pulled the bow back and patiently waited for the buck to step past the tree that was hiding his vitals. Off to my left I saw some movement and caught the sight of moving antlers; actually more like a deer with a walking brush pile on his head. Slightly annoyed that he couldn't have shown up two minutes earlier, I let my bow down and relaxed, waiting to see what would happen. If he continued on the same path, he would be well within range and all I'd have to do is make the shot. Of course, it's never that simple. He stayed just out of range, giving me absolutely no opportunity for a shot. I watched him lumber down the path and across the wide open pasture, the epitome of a monster whitetail.

sneaking in...

Even though rut was in full swing I never saw that monster or the10 point again. Thanksgiving came and went and I spent most of my time in the field. With limited opportunities, and the approaching rifle season, I wanted to make the most of the time I had left. The Saturday after Thanksgiving I decided to change things up just a bit, and I'm so glad I did. About an hour after getting comfortable, I had a small fork horn come in from the south, but he moved on rather quickly. Not ten minutes later I glanced behind me, catching sight of some horns moving through the thick pasture grass, headed towards my general direction. He entered the tree row about 60 yards to the east of where the does had predictably come through every night. From my first glimpse I thought he was a nice deer, but I couldn't really get much of a look. From the way he was headed, I thought he would enter the tree row and follow a path taking him in the opposite direction of where I was sitting. I didn't give him much thought, but I didn't disregard his presence either. A few moments later I caught some movement out of the corner of my eye. He was headed straight down the path in my direction. From the few glimpses I had, my initial thought was that he was a good deer with an interesting rack. Out of all the deer I had previously seen this season, this was my first glimpse of this particular buck, and he looked mature with a thick rack and interesting tines. I decided I wanted him.

Initially, I was planning on standing and pulling back when he passed behind a large cottonwood tree. However, as I stood I realized he was coming in at an angle that I wasn't quite prepared for, leaving too many opportunities for things to go wrong. I refuse to take a shot that I'm not completely confident in, and failure is simply not an option. So, I quickly sat back down. Apparently if I wanted this deer, I was going to take this shot while sitting... in the open... at 15 yards.

How many bow hunters do you know that practice sitting and shooting? Probably none to zero... I know I never have. Yet, that was suddenly my new plan. By this time, he had passed the cottonwood tree and was within 15 yards, perfect shooting range. He had his head down and I fought to pull the arrow back from my sitting position. My efforts were somewhere between amusing and completely comical. In fact, as the buck looked up from the slight movement, all his senses on high alert, it was all I could do to keep from laughing out loud. I knew I could very easily lose my opportunity at this deer, but I simply didn't have the strength. It never fails that I find myself in the most unexpected and absurd predicaments while hunting. Eventually, though, the buck relaxed and even looked the other way as several does appeared at the top of the ridge. Knowing I had only a few days left before rifle season, and hardly any time to hunt, I told myself I had no choice but to really do this.

With everything I possessed, from the tips of my fingers to the tips of my toes, I gave it my all and grudgingly felt the string give and pulled the arrow back. At the sudden movement, the buck turned and stared me down, trying to decipher the sudden danger. I focused the sights and let the arrow fly, sure that I saw a small spot appear on his side where I had been aiming. He darted up and behind some brush, not more than another 15 yards, and stood there and snorted... then snorted again. My heart started to sink. I just knew I had made a good shot. I knew it, yet I couldn't help the fear that sunk into my bones as I realized he was still standing and acting completely normal.

my arrow as I found it

The one thing I struggle with most is the thought of wounding and losing a deer. My greatest fear is not being able to track or recover it, and fail in completing the harvest. While every hunter hates that this opportunity exists, and that in a lifetime of hunting it probably will happen, it's still a huge disappointment. For me, the thought is soul-crushing. I don't know if it's from being a female, or a mother, or just a highly emotional creature, but the thought of failure and death without reason, wounds me to my core. It doesn't help knowing bow hunters who have wounded and lost deer after deer, year after year. From the depths of my heart, if I lost this deer I was putting down my bow and walking away from it forever.

At that moment, I heard him drop... the unmistakable thump of his body hitting the ground. Pure exhilaration raced through my veins, with complete satisfaction knowing that I had taken a beautiful, mature deer, in the complete open, from the ground, and at only 15 yards. (Yes, I'm proud of that.) I waited impatiently as I called for help, trying to enjoy the other deer still roaming about and the last rays of the setting sun.

my first glimpse

I didn't really know what to expect as I actually walked upon him, but I was pleased that he didn't shrink in size or disappoint up close. We loaded him up and got to the business of showing him off. I didn't get many photos of the actual deer, and only one with me in it. My family isn't one for photos anyway. Once a deer is harvested, it's dressed and hung before anyone can even find a camera... I don't care though, because this one is definitely going on the wall somewhere.


I know that being an experienced hunter and still fighting many old school ideas that this is a man's sport, I probably should not openly reveal my fear or my mistakes, or that I had seen a monster that most people will never have the opportunity to see with their own eyes while hunting. Most hunters, especially those that people look up to in the hunting industry, will never reveal all the mistakes they made, or even the number of deer they've lost. No one talks about it because no one likes to show their weaknesses or reveal that they aren't perfect. However, that's a whole other blog post.. or series of blog posts. Hunting is not predictable (if it is, it isn't hunting), and it's definitely not about the horns or trying to make yourself out to be a badass. It's a never-ending lesson of discovering yourself and learning about the outdoors.