Deer Camp 2005
November 11, 2005
Every year, my brother and 5 or so other friends head to a slice of heaven in Southern Indiana for opening weekend of gun season. My brother and I usually get down there mid day on Friday before opening day to hang stands and set camp. This always gives me an opportunity to bow hunt that last day before.When I first started hunting with traditional bows, I wasn't completely committed to it and wavered often about the compound. In 1999 I was still wavering when I shot and wounded a small buck. I missed bad, something I hadn't done in a while with the compund. So the next hunt I got out the compound again and killed a doe. I haven't killed a deer since then with a bow. In 2000, I made the switch to traditional bows only. My switch coincided with a move to another state, the birth of my third child and a burgeoning career. Hunting opportunities are rare. But I keep at it and since then I've never had the thought to switch back to compound.
I'll be the first to admit that I am a meat hunter. Therefore I kill many more deer with a gun than a bow. And to be honest, it is a more natural way for man, in his intellectual efficiency to kill animals. But this story isn't about that.
I went to hunting traditional because it was closer to the first steps man made into using his intellectual efficiency to kill more animals. I went to making my own bows because that was even farther down the engineering efficiency path. I went to primitive bows because it was even farther. I have no problem with compounds or even crossbows for that matter. We have plenty of deer here in Indiana. And it is tricky to draw a line in the engineering sand and regulate it. But this story isn't about that.
Being a meat hunter, I kill the first deer that gives me a shot. I am not a fan of trophy hunting at all. The path it has taken our hunting heritage down is far more dangerous than any anti-hunters or crossbows ever could be. I have actually had fellow hunters criticize my choice to kill young bucks. "Let 'em grow", they say. "Grow what", I ask. But this story isn't about that.
This is actually a hunting story. One that ends happily as you can plainly see if you scroll down a little. But the story didn't always look that happy. My experience in 1999 left a lot of doubt about the efficacy of my bows. I knew they would kill but I didn't really have any confidence. So, back to the story.
We got in around 3:00 and I promptly got out to hang a stand. We have a lot of hunters on this property this weekend so it's always tight. But we're all safe and respectful and rotate the "good" spots with an unspoken rule. It's more about the camp than the hunt or the kill. And this property is placed so that there are always plenty of deer so there are no bad spots. I had found a little spot that no one ever seemed to hunt that looked realy good to me so that's where I hung my stand. I got settled in around 4:30 after running an drag along a couple trails. My spot overlooked a fairly heavy trail and the creek bottom that was the natural conduit for traveling deer. It is a beautiful spot a well worth it just for the view. A few years earlier, I had seen a female bobcat and 3 kittens (fairly rare sight in Indiana) within 50 yards of that spot.
Maybe 30 minutes after settling in, I hear a deer in the creek bottom. It takes me a few minutes to identify a small buck in the bottom about 100 yards away. My view through the binoculars shows that he is testing the air heavily for scent. He seemed to smell me or the doe pee I had dragged. He was very close to the trail I had laid down. He was meandering excruciatingly slowly towards me. I had several squirrels making a racket behind me and he kept staring my way at them. I just knew he'd see me but luck was really on my side on this one. He took his time but eventually got fairly close. He was feeding on some acorns and greenbrier less than 30 yards away. I won't shoot more than 20 but I was sorely tempted many times. It had been about 30 minutes since I had first seen him. Eventually he mosies up the hill 20 yards to my right. I turn and find a spot through the branches. As soon as I get my chance, I pick a spot, get to anchor, and release. My anticipation made me want to see where the arrow was going to hit him before it had even cleared the bow so naturally the arrow went left, right into his rump. It was a moment that I almost lost my memory of the Second Commandment. I got good penetration though and as he ran off, I felt that there was a chance. He was staggering a lot and having trouble for sure. I hoped I got into the guts or maybe got a good artery. Still I was doubtful.
I waited 30 minutes and got down for an inspection. Blood was evident fairly quickly and I got a lot of it pretty soon. It wasn't hard to follow at first, even in the failing light, so I starting gaining some hope. He ran down the bottom and crossed the creek. It was a difficult climb and my hopes started to fade. I had trailed for about 30 minutes and maybe 125 yards. As soon as I got up the bank, a lot more blood started to show but again, faded quickly. I trailed another 40 yards and the drops were smaller and spaced farther apart. I decided to give it up and come back in the morning.
In the morning, I was planning to hunt until 11:00 or so and then go try and find him. About an hour into this hunt, a doe shows up and takes my shotgun slug willingly in her midsection. She ran off a little but I knew she was dead. I got down a little while after and first blood showed liver so I was pretty confident. The blood stopped after about 70 yards though and the last smidgen I could find was 40 yards up the creek from where the buck had crossed the night before. So, more than likely, I had 2 dead deer just on the other side of the creek. I suspected the guts had plugged up the exit wound on the doe so I didn't really worry about her but I had serious doubts about the buck. I headed back to help another guy with a deer and then went to the barn for a coffee and to wait for my brother to help me trail the deer. One other guy scored a doe.
About 12:00, my brother and I head back. The doe was quickly found in the creek not 20 yards from where I had left the trail. We left her there and looked for the buck. We went 200 yards up one hollow and then decided to take care of the doe and then I'd look some more. We got her dressed and dragged to an easy access for the 4 wheeler and headed back to camp. On the way was the other alternative the buck could have taken so we decided to look some more. Not 50 yards from last blood, my brother found him. He'd died on the run staggering up the creek bank. I was overjoyed. The shot had entered the right ham and exited center left, passin beneath the spine and hitting a big artery. He'd died quickly after all. Not textbook but effective.
Here's how we found him.
Here's the exit wound.
Me with the buck and my sinew backed osage static recurve. I used cedar arrows and a Ribtek 190.
Here's the doe. She was later aged by the DNR at 6.5 years old! She was definitely on the decline as I've killed 1.5 year olds bigger than her. She was still 120 pounds. The buck was about 150. A 1.5 year old.
