The downside of this is analysis paralysis, which is exactly what happened on opening day. That had been my first, and up until last Wednesday, my last encounter with a deer in 2014. I kicked myself in subsequent sits for not even trying to act on opening day when a doe walked into what could have been the perfect shot- broadside 15 yards on a calm animal. The result was talking myself into a different attitude- one of purposefully entering the woods as a predator, not as just an observer- reminding myself of all of the practice and hard work I put in during the summer to make sure that my shooting is accurate and reminding myself of previous seasons' hard lessons.
Last Wednesday, I headed out for what would be a really short sit. After work that afternoon, I calmly took my time and headed out to my tree on a cool grey afternoon. There was rain in the forecast, but only a slim chance. I put on my rain gear, but because the temperature was hovering around 60, didn't put on any insulating layer underneath. I didn't get into my treestand til after 4:00, with a 5:55 sunset time. By about 10 after 5, the rain had started, along with a steady wind. I started to feel cold, and it didn't take much for me to talk myself into climbing down early. It was the middle of the workweek, and I didn't want to end up sick. So I climbed down and got about 5 steps from the base of my tree when I saw movement out of the corner of my eye. I instantly knew what was going on, because as my dad says, Murphy has a law. Luckily for me, I had this new mental attitude that prepared me for such an occasion. With a degree of deft that I had previously lacked, I stepped behind some cover in the form of a clump of birch trees and nocked an arrow.
At this point, I started to make some mental notes of nearby trees and their approximate distance. In previous years, I spent a lot of time estimating yardages and pacing them out, but I had stopped doing that in favor of just measuring a ring around my tree when hanging a stand. I did the best I could. I had a plan for which way one of the 4 deer- 2 does and 2 skippers (last year's fawns) could approach and how I'd take a shot, all the while reminding myself that "there are no mistakes, and I'm here to kill a deer." I should add the caveat that there are no mistakes as long as I've done my best to practice and prepare, and I'm not going to do anything careless or make any stupid decisions that would result in another lost deer. My fear last year was being spotted, busted, or spooking deer because all I wanted was to observe, observe, observe. Now I figure if I spook one, at least I tried. I believe that I can actually get away with more than I think I can in regards to movements and whatnot related to attempting to take a shot.
Moments later, a doe was in front of me. It all came down to this moment.I had peeked at the watch strapped to my safety harness, and it was 5:15- plenty of time before the end of legal shooting hours. My 20-yard guesstimate tree was in front of said doe. I can shoot alright out to 30 yards, but greatly prefer 20 or under, but this was it. I was already at full draw, what felt to be about 5 minutes, but had to be much much less. With the deer's eyes hidden by another tree trunk, I raised my bow. She took another step in the direction she was facing, and remained broadside. When I was certain that my form was good, and I had a clear shot, I released and tried my absolute hardest to follow through and not try to take my eye off the arrow in favor of glancing at the deer. She took off like a crack of lightning, along with the other 3 deer. It was really grey and raining steadily, plus I had a rain hood up and it was difficult to hear. I did not see my arrow shaft sticking out of her side, nor any blood as she bounded off. That was a relief, because at least I had not made a poor shot, or so it seemed. Again, summoning every ounce of calm and patience left in me, I reminded myself not to move. Stay put, wait, don't rush things. I tried to call Naomi to let her know what was going on. She didn't answer- that's ok, I don't want to be talking in the woods right now.
After about 5 minutes (I wanted to wait longer, but I HAD to know at that point) from exactly where I had been standing, I started pacing out to the marker tree the deer had been standing by when I shot. I had aimed at 30 yards, and she had been looking in my direction- not great. I got to the marker tree- 25 yards- not good. I looked and looked but no blood. No arrow either. At that point, I was second-guessing myself, and I was REALLY cold. Then I found a bit of hope in the form of a tiny tuft of hair where the doe had been standing. I took my practice arrow out of my quiver, the one with just a field point, and stuck it in the ground to mark the spot. Then I decided to sneak back to the house, get Naomi and her good eyes, and a flashlight with a strong beam to trace from where I shot in the direction the deer had been standing in hopes of finding a clue. The arrow that I had stuck in the ground was really helpful- there's one to remember for the future. Naomi finally found my arrow, about another 40 yards past the hair clump. I was still looking for blood, but finding nothing. When I met up with Naomi and the now-found arrow, I inspected it for blood- definitely none, but also for the whitish goopy fat that is sometimes on there when shooting straight through a squirrel. The only thing stuck to that arrow was a few stray hairs, and lots of mud and wet leaves.
At that point, I felt confident enough that I had done nothing but give that doe a haircut. As she was running away, she had also been blowing at me as if to say "what are you?" I'm not sure, but I think they don't do that when injured. As Naomi and I walked back to the house, I felt very relieved that I didn't hurt that doe, but also really satisfied with myself that I didn't just sit back and let another opportunity slip by as I had done so many times in 2013. As of yet, I haven't seen any evidence of any rutting activity, but it finally started getting actually cold this weekend. I'm eager to get out again. I feel like I'm out of a slump I was in.
P.S.- I'm not the only hunter in these woods. We had another visit from a bobcat today. I was in the garage reorganizing some things, when I heard the chickens making a huge racket, so I went out to see what was going on. The bobcat was right next to the chicken run, and it turned to walk away as it saw me. I managed to catch a few pictures with my phone. My presence wasn't enough to deter it from sticking its head into the gut bucket from yesterday's chicken harvest. It walked away with more of a "guess the party's over" sort of attitude than a "get me out of here!" one. Only time will tell about this, too. Naomi was out earlier this evening and said she saw not one but two dead bobcats on the exit ramp down the street. I wish our infrequent visitor no harm, especially not from a moving vehicle. I will definitely be sad if that was our visitor, but I have no way of knowing for sure.
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