Marginal Madness - My Biggest Bow Buck Yet

It was the start of another hunting season and the excitement filled the air. Everyone gathered in camp ready for a great season. We are blessed to hunt a beautiful low fence Texas hill country heaven that has plenty of great game and great bucks for everyone, every year. 

For the last 2 years I had killed my 2 biggest bucks growing in size each year. This year would prove to be no different but with a grand jump up in size presenting a superb surprise. 

I had only seen Unibrow once in front of me and I didn’t shoot him as my focus was on a management buck that peaked the interest of everyone. The following weekends proved to be difficult with either no shows or more frequently, bad winds. 

This past weekend (October 17-20) proved no different with the wrong winds for the setup he frequented. Finally, on Monday night I was able to make my way to his hangout area. The spot was also home to some groups of hogs and does and I was ready and willing to shoot any of them or all of them!

I settled in and nearly immediately had a lone lady skirting around the area. She didn’t want to commit to bow range and just when I thought she had settled down enough to come closer, the cows moved in right in front of me and her! The margin had closed on her quickly!

I could only laugh because if you have ever hunted a place with cattle, they WILL mess up a hunt for you guaranteed! So, as the slab of beef moved directly in front of my blind, completely blocking any shot at the doe, I sat back and relaxed and waited. This wasn’t my shot. 

As the hunt continued I noticed off to the far left not only a target management buck and a doe, but also Unibrow...my target buck! I watched as he lifted his head to a licking branch and scraped beneath the tree. He was in charge of the area, the dominant buck, and was in no hurry to move in closer. 

After some meandering around he started working his way in closer, as well as numerous other deer that had shown up. My heart started racing as I tried to calm myself and avert my eyes from his gorgeous rack and prominent face markings. 

I kept praying asking for God to guide my arrow, calm my body, enhance my skill, and to basically help me through this because I tend to doubt my skill level on nearly every hunt. Like I’ve said before, bow hunting is hard, and there have been many lows that shatter my confidence and soul and the climb back up is difficult. 

Unibrow came in to bow range, 19 yards to be exact, but there were multiple other deer blocking him or too close for comfort to thread the needle, especially those closer to me than him. They would react first and change his reaction as well. 

Finally, they cleared enough where I felt comfortable and he seemed calm as well. I drew back and began to settle the pin, breathe, lower, breathe....he lifts his head and turns away from me. So I held. There was stifling silence and I knew letting down would break the sound barrier and send them running. 

So I held. He never moved his back legs but turned his head almost completely around reminiscent of an owl rotating their head. I held. Shaking. I held for what seemed longer than I should but was merely a few seconds. My hands were sweating. My eyes began to sink into tunnel vision. I held on longer.

He turned back to broadside and I resettled my pin and as everything seemed to become blurry, I released. I released the arrow, my breath, my heart and my anxious body. It hit. Not where I was hoping. It was forward. And the arrow was hanging out of him as he ran. Oh my. What just happened? Did I just mess this up?

I watched as he acted like a running dead buck in his body language but my eyes and the arrow provided much deception. As he neared the edge of the hill I saw something disappear as well as the rest of the deer that were around darting and vanishing over the hill. Did he just fall over or did I just lose sight of him over the hill? The margin of error was the worst it could have been. Dead or a fatal wound I might never find!

If you’ve followed any of my adventures, you are aware of my poor vision and I truly wasn’t sure what I had just witnessed, but I had to get a closer look. I abandoned the wait rule and got out of the blind with my bow just in case he was wounded and needed a follow up shot.

I saw blood. Good blood, but no arrow. Daylight was fading so I hurried past some blood to look if my eyes had deceived me or not and there, right there, about 70 yards away, he lay under a tree with his back to me and gorgeous antlers on display. I dropped to my knees in the middle of the rocks and cried. I couldn’t even go up to him right away. I sat and cried because I knew he was grand and I needed to be ready to experience that moment. 

After I stopped crying, well after the crying slowed down to be honest, I stood up and walked over to him. As I circled around behind him I was facing West and the sunset was magical. I knelt down and thanked God for guiding me through this hunt because once I saw the shot placement I knew God was 100% in charge. 

The shot was forward and actually went through his leg near his elbow, into his cavity and punctured lungs. My fixed blade broadhead was another blessing to blow through his leg bone and still manage enough penetration into his vitals to execute a deadly shot and quick expiration. Another margin that could have lead to completely different results between heartbreak and healing my soul. 

There was a moment of beautiful solitude that resonated in my soul as I knelt down and touched him. There was a connection that existed between him, myself and God and I will forever remember that moment and feeling. 

Texting, photos, congratulations, skinning, and all the necessary procedures commenced. It was late and I have never worried much about the score of a deer, so that process was pushed until the following morning. 

We scored him. And I didn’t believe it. So we measured everything again, triple checked our math and confirmed he was my biggest buck and one heck of a deer with his long tine length and incredible mass. 151 was the magic number. A Texas Hill Country free range/low fence deer that grew to be my proud moment, meat in the freezer, and memories to last. 

Captain Hook

New place, new deer, new adventures, new successes & recognizable heartbreak. Captain Hook was a deer with a unique rack. Most would scoff at his antlers but he became one of our only hit list bucks on the new lease because he was an older deer & it was clear his rack wasn't going to change.

He was scarred up, his ears were cut & it appeared he was a fighter. We watched him in velvet at the water tank; his unmistakable right hook curling out of his brow tine were clear in all the trail cam pictures. We watched him at the protein feeders during the heat of the summer & decided he was a 'target buck'.

Opening weekend of bow season presented my husband with a few opportunities but it never came to fruition. We hunted him for over a month watching as he moved from spot to spot without much pattern to his actions.

The morning of Thursday November 10th he came into my set. I was nervous, shaking, breathing heavy, but I had time; he was calm. It wasn't quiet shooting light yet so the dance began. As the sunlight increased, his presence calmed me (well enough to focus) and I waited. Waited for the perfect shot that every bowhunter waits for. Hook was unaware of my presence & I drew on him twice.

But he danced & eliminated that little window of hope so I let down. A doe & button buck joined the dance calming him & elevating my nerves. 2 more sets of eyes to see me & ruin my shot. After 20 minutes of this, Hook finally took a step of his last dance & I released an arrow right into him.

It felt like a heart shot. It looked like a heart shot. He kicked like a heart shot. His legs buckled like a heart shot as he stumbled through cactus. The camera footage confirmed what I felt & although my arrow stuck in him I was confident I had done enough. I was shaking, uncontrollably shaking & breathing as if I had been holding my breath for minutes (I might have been the last few seconds).

I texted my husband & sent him the video. His response: 'heart shot, dead in 30 yards' along with words of congratulations. We waited over 30 minutes before we met to follow the blood trail. He couldn't be far so we started to film the tracking.

We found blood immediately on the cactus he barreled through & began following a bright red blood trail. That trail continued for 2.5 hours. We walked, we tracked, we pushed thru brush never losing blood for more than a few yards. His tracks were heavy in the mud. The arrow had punctured both sides & blood was heavy on either side of the track. After an hour the sickening feeling in my stomach started growing.

How is he not dead? What did I do wrong? Where is my arrow? How has it not come out? Maybe just around this turn or through this brush he will be laying there right? These are the questions I'll never have the answer to because after 2.5 hours the blood stopped & my tears started.

I tried to stifle them & be strong but now we had to make the heart wrenching decision to start walking back. I just stood there hoping for a miracle; maybe I would find more blood or him & I would get that overly elated feeling I wanted to feel so bad. It had been 2 years since I released an arrow on a whitetail & now I was hanging on a cliff emotionally.

We turned to leave & I fell off that cliff. Tears pouring as I walked blinded by the pain. My husband stopped & turned & embraced me & I just cried. The tears are here now as I write this less than 24 hours after it happened, in the same spot I shot him from. It was a purposeful torture to go back but it was the best place to write. It's fresh, it's raw, it hurts, its sickening. We made it back with confusion, disappointment & heartbreak weighing heavily on my exhausted body.

After breakfast (or almost lunch) we reviewed the footage again on a bigger screen. The shot still looked good & my confusion was still high. I have made many bad shots; as a bowhunter you will mess up, make bad shots, and fail miserably; it's just part of it. When I make those bad shots I know it, I acknowledge it, I learn from it & I fix it the best I can; but this has made my mind mush & it hurts.

After all is said & done the only conclusion I have deduced is my shot was too low. The downward trajectory forced it out the brisket & somehow I missed the pump station on the entrance. He didn't jump the string, he didn't' hunker down like 90% of all deer I've hunted do & maybe that was the missing puzzle piece all along. All the signs were there; the reaction of the deer, the blood trail. I'll never know if that's the answer but it's the only solace I have to tell myself to render this hole in my heart.

It's never been about buck or antler size & it never will. The feeling remains the same for any animal not recovered. I am physically & emotionally sick writing this & it truly breaks my heart. I can only pray that I missed vitals & he will somehow continue to be the fighter he was & survive this & I know I will have to do the same.

I've said it before numerous times & in a previous blog, this, all of this...it heals & it haunts & this one will haunt me for quite a while as I replay it over & over in my head.

UPDATE: I shot the buck on Thursday morning at 7:52 am...we hunted until Sunday morning & never saw buzzards anywherE.


UPDATE: On November 18th I went to hunt hogs & about 7pm (after dark) Captain Hook showed up at the feeder!!!! I could see his unique rack under the red hog motion light & stared in disbelief! He had a slight limp in his right side (arrow exit side) but was eating & seemed fine!

Wolf Premium Oil Review (All in one Gun Cleaner & Oil)

 

So let me be honest here…I hate cleaning guns. I know it’s necessary and important but I almost always find a way to “let” my husband do it for one simple reason-the smell. The solvent we use is intoxicating and overwhelming. I usually have to leave the house because it will lead to migraines and then the smell lingers for days inside. Cleaning them outside is pointless with all the dirt and dust flying around so I just have to suck it up and do it.

The first thing I did when I received the oil was open it up and smell it. I tried to smell anything but couldn’t. WHAT? You mean I will be able to clean my gun without my eyes burning or getting a headache? But would it work?

I decided to use the gun oil and cleaner on my Savage 25-06. It doesn’t get used often, maybe once or twice a year during doe management at the end of the season and I wasn’t even sure when it had last been cleaned but I knew I used it a few weekends ago on a doe. Previous reviews have said to use your original cleaner first and then try Wolf Premium Oils but after the aforementioned smell issues I had to pass on that and go straight for the Wolf Oil.

For a ‘clean-ish’ gun with only a few rounds fired in the last few years I wasn’t expecting much. I was impressed with the consistency of the oil; it wasn’t too thick but it also didn’t spill everywhere or get all over my hands when I was applying it to the cleaning patches. It absorbed well on the patches and didn’t require much oil. As I ran the patches down the barrel I was surprised to see the amount of dirt that kept coming out of it. 

 

After 7 patches I finally got a nearly clean one and was very satisfied with the lack of oil over everything around me. Sometimes things can get messy with spilled cleaners or solvents but even the 3 times I knocked over the bottle I didn’t spill anything so that was an added bonus in my book! The oil not only did its job cleaning the inside of the barrel and action but also helped remove all the build-up on the outside as well. 

Bottom line – the stuff works, it doesn’t smell, it isn’t messy, it’s Made in the USA and now I am actually excited to clean my guns without a getting a headache or passing out from the smell! Bravo Wolf Premium Oils, bravo.

Check them out here: www.wolfpremiumoils.com

Meet Colleen - Hate Love Relationship with Hunting

A short while ago I ‘met’ someone on Twitter and began a conversation with her. Her name was Colleen and she said something to me that I have never heard a hunter say. She said she HATED hunting. I have heard a lot of women say they disliked it, didn’t know much about it, or just say “it’s not for me” but from her Twitter profile she looked like a hunter in love with every aspect of it. Of course I wanted to know more because there had to be something behind such a strong HATE of hunting.

She sent me her story because I knew I had to get this out to everyone to read and possibly relate to, learn from, and most importantly support her. I’ve read over her words numerous times trying to figure out how to present this on my blog to everyone and realized this - it is not my story to tell, this is hers. I can put it in my own words, edit it or change it to a Q & A session but I think the true meaning and emotion would be removed from her words.

So instead of me writing about her and her story, I think it’s best to let her tell it for you. Please be kind to her words because this was her pouring her emotions and thoughts out and continue to support her the way you always support me.

 

 

Meet Colleen and her Hate & Love Relationship with hunting…

I grew up loving the woods, loving nature, always outdoors, but never ever having anyone in my family hunt. We were the family that would feed bambi & I never understood people that would hunt deer; it seemed inhumane to me. Fast forward to my freshman year in college 11 years ago when I was first introduced to hunting. I started dating this really cute football player who was fun, outgoing, made me laugh, but a hunter, & not just your typical hunter. This guy was into it, his family hunted, & all his friends hunted. We would go to parties and hunting was always a topic that would be brought up, there would be stories about deer camp, talks about who has shot the largest buck, etc. We started dating in the middle of hunting season so one of our first trips back to his house, his friend called and said he shot a monster & wanted us to come down & see it. We pulled up to his friends and out & hanging from a rope in his garage was this adorable buck. My facial expression must have said it all because my now husband looked at me and said, ‘bet you have never seen anything like this before.’ I looked at him and said ‘oh this is cool’, but in my head was like what is wrong with these people, what did this poor animal do to them?!

Needless to say that was just the beginning, as mid-summer came around Derek would always go out to take walks in the woods to look for sheds, put out trail cameras, set stands, & find that tree with rubs around it that looked like it would be a great place to hunt. He would spend hours upon hours doing this kind of stuff, which to me I was thinking ‘why don’t you want to spend time with me, all you have to do is go set up some stupid stand and wait for a deer to come by.’ He would be so excited to go back out & look at the pictures on his trail camera; again something I did not understand, basically none of it ever made sense. 

Fast forward to hunting season, the season I would proclaim I was basically single because all he did, talked about, dreamed about, and thought about was hunting. It was so annoying & bad to me one year that I made him dress up as a deer & me as a hunter for Halloween because I told him that was the only way I would ever get him to notice me. If we argued it was always about hunting, how he would spend Friday nights in so he could wake up early to hunt all day Saturday, how he would come back from hunting all day & then we would have to go to his cousins or friends to see what they shot.  We would walk into these garages, where a bunch of guys were gathered around this deer that was dead, high fiving one another, drinking beer, laughing, telling stories, & just having a good time. I would usually look at these people and think to myself you have got to be kidding me, they call this a sport, and this is a joke & a shame. I was even at a hunting show one time & had 2 men approach me asking if they could tape me hunting; my response was ‘um hunting is dumb, I am only here because my husband hunts, sorry.’ That’s a moment though I now regret more than ever.

Needless to say for NINE years this was my mentality when it came to anytime Derek spoke about it. In 2012 though that all changed. We were out one night & Derek said to me, “want to go hunting with me, I really think you would enjoy it, you can see what it is all about.” I quickly responded with my typical, “no, why would I want to do that?”  But then said you know what I will go with you, just to prove to you how dumb it really is. He got this big smile on his face & said ‘I am telling you, you are going to love it.’  We woke up that Saturday morning, it was 20 degrees out (I hate the cold with a passion), he gave me his hunting clothes, so of course nothing fit right, his hunting boots, which made my feet look like clown feet & was spraying me down with this stuff so deer couldn’t smell me.  I remember it being 5 am and thinking, oh my God why did you wake up for this, just go back to bed, but I went though.

It was the first Saturday of rifle for PA so we went into the woods in the pitch black & finally got to our ground blind.  I just remember how calm it was sitting there in the woods with the sun coming up & the woods coming alive around us & thinking hmmm this is pretty cool. Turkeys were walking by, squirrels everywhere, beautiful birds, & of course a few deer.  This was the day I started to understand what hunting was really all about. Even though Derek did not have any shots at any deer that day, his pap sure did! Derek got a call saying “pap got one, pap got one” from one of his cousins who was also out there with us that day.  We left the ground blind and started walking through the woods to meet up with all his cousins, uncles, dad & pap to go search for this buck. His pap was so excited he could barely catch his breath, it only took a few minutes to track & once we found it, it all clicked. Everyone started high fiving, hugging, congratulating his pap, & then his pap was sitting there taking pictures & telling the story on how he shot it; which from listening to his story I learned it was the first buck at age 78 that he ever shot with a rifle. To be a part of that moment and see a family come together like that & to have everyone be so happy for him was amazing. It showed a moment to me that so many families in this world now lack & that is being together & being happy. I even got to take a picture with this deer just because I was there that day, it was just so cool to have the opportunity to be a part of.

Throughout that year I would continue to go with my husband every Saturday to hunt, it was such an awesome experience & that’s when I decided maybe this is something I wanted to actually give a try too.  I started talking to a great friend of mine who is a hunter too who really encouraged me to start hunting as well; she gave me a push & support I would need to really give it a go.

I told my husband that I wanted to try archery hunting, so we went & got me a bow (with no pink, I hate that color) & got it all set up. When the man at the shop showed me how to shoot it I was like, oh wow what did I get myself in to? It was insane to me how much goes into archery hunting & how hard it really is; I thought you pull the bow back and shoot, but needless to say that is not the case.  Every day after work I would go outside with Derek & practice, practice, practice. I even practiced when he wasn’t there; it was such a challenge & being the first & only female hunter in a family where if you are a guy you literally start hunting the day after you are born, I had to make sure I was ready to go when I got the opportunity. 

2014 was my first year of archery hunting & without the support of my husband & my friend I wouldn’t of had a clue what to do. My husband helped with hanging tree stands, showing me how to do the little things like put a bow holder in the tree, making sure I actually had clothes that fit & kept me warm, because I get cold when it is 50 degrees out.  We went spotting and would walk in to check the trail cams, look for rubs & scraps, we definitely put our time in. I was so excited for the first Saturday of archery I could barely sleep the night before, I felt like a kid the night before Christmas. 

Now came the part that made me respect hunting, I spent 4 weekends in the woods & did not see one deer, no does, no bucks, no nothing. Very quickly it put it into a reality to me that this was not going to be some simple task where I climb up into a tree, & get the opportunity to shoot a deer.  I was really understanding at that point why it is such a sport; not only do you have to hope that you are in the right spot at the right time, but you have to hope that the deer don’t smell you, that they don’t see you, that you actually see them; basically it is not so much harder than any person who has never tried it could ever realize. 

 

It is mentally wearing at times, but so amazing & worth it when you see another hunter finally get their chance to kill a deer.  You know how much they went through, the time they put in, & how things finally worked out in their favor that they got that opportunity,  It is a sport that I have grown to love & respect more than I ever thought possible.   It is a sport that I feel everyone should at one point or another really try because I think a lot of people who feel like I used too would see it like I do now.  See it as a sport, that is time consuming, mentally & physically tough, but oh so rewarding in the end.  It is a sport that can help to bring families together & really help to give people direction. It something where kids can be kids & learn to follow their parents in their guidance in it, something that is not inside & gives them a chance to dedicate themselves too. I did not get a deer this archery season, I actually never even had a chance, but even though I didn’t I really took so much more from it then I could have ever imagined. I can honestly say I love hunting, I love to hear the stories, I love to wake up early to go in my tree stand, I now can’t wait to see trail cam pictures, & want to be the first one to high five whoever’s deer we are going to see. Remember this is all coming from the girl who made her husband dress up as a deer for Halloween & she dressed up as hunter, just so she could be noticed during hunting season for once!

 

FOLLOW HER ON TWITTER @CBrletich

My MacGyver Moment

 

 

I always try to be as safe as possible when I am in the field, but sometimes things just happen; whether a pure accident or a result of my mistake, someone else’s mistake, or just me being clumsy. This moment happened during the 2011 deer hunting season. There were 3 of us hunting and the John Deer Gator we were driving truly only held 2 people up front comfortably; so since I was the first to be dropped off, I decided to ride in the back of the gator, while the warnings clearly say not to.

 

My ride was short to my drop off point, so it didn’t seem like a big deal. I rode in the back sitting down, holding my bow and my husband’s bow so he could drive. As he stopped he got out and I handed him my bow for some reason so I could climb out. I put one foot on the mini tailgate to step on and jump out, but the tail gate was not closed properly. This led to it opening and me falling towards the ground. All I could think about was I had my husband’s bow in my hand and I couldn’t let it hit the ground. If I dropped it he might have to re-sight it in, or I might break it. So as I fell toward the ground I raised my right hand in the air with his bow in it which only left me one hand to break my fall.

Instead however, my right knee absorbed the full impact being the first thing to hit the ground and luckily for me, my knee landed right on a rock. As I hit and rolled over on my back wincing in pain, I was still holding my husband’s bow high in the air. He asked if I was ok. My response….I said is your bow ok? He kept saying his bow was fine and checking on me. I looked at my knee and saw a hole in my leaf suit but only saw dirt on it. I said its hurts, but I’ll be fine; I just wanted to get my stuff and get to my stand. They drove off and I began the walk to my tree climber.

It became apparent that because my injury was on my knee, every time I bent it and took a step it opened the wound even more, causing more and more pain. I had on shorts (it was hot) with my leaf suit over the top which was causing more problems. The mesh from the suit was sticking to the wound. So I pulled the leg of it up over my knee to keep walking. I got to my tree climber and realized I was in for more pain. To climb the tree, I was going to have to bend my knees over and over to maneuver the climber up the tree. By this time, the dirt had worked itself out of the wound and blood was streaming down my leg.

 

All I could think about was getting in my stand and then I would figure it out there. So I climbed in pain and got settled in. As I set up all of my gear, I realized the first aid kit was in the Gator. Again not the brightest moment of not having some first aid gear in my backpack but lesson learned. I began to inventory the contents of my bag and put my MacGyver skills to work. I found a lens cleaning cloth that was in my binocular case which would be the wound dressing to absorb and stop the bleeding, at least of a while. Next I found my old back up head lamp that had an adjustable elastic head band. I removed the light and adjusted the band around my knee to press and hold the cloth onto my wound. It became my  homemade band-aid. I was able to pull my leaf suit leg over the bandage and was pretty much good to go.

 

The only problem was I could not elevate my leg sitting in the tree climber so my knee throbbed the entire hunt, but at least I stopped the bleeding. I still have the scar on my knee from that horrible fall, but I was a great wife by holding my husband’s bow in the air and saving it, even though my knee suffered the consequences. If that’s not dedication and awareness I don’t know what is haha!

Heals and Haunts

I mentioned in my previous blog “Baby Brows ‘Bout Time Buck” (http://camocandace.blogspot.com/2014/10/baby-brows-bout-time-buck.html) that I was working on a more ‘poetic’ version of the extreme emotional response to taking this buck…but to understand the highs, the lows must also be felt. In honor of the pure unfiltered bliss and bluster a hunter’s journey travels through I present this…I hope you can relate. 

  

Hunting; a consuming love triangle between me, my mind and the woods where learning how to fail is a staple of the journey.  It is a sickness that heals and haunts me, that brings me to the peak of my being and plunges to the depths of my soul. 

Before reaching a culmination of supreme perfection I press my face against the foundation of rock bottom where the cold, hard reality of heartbreak in the woods exists. Unfortunately this is not truly failure but a necessary moment each must turn and face at some point; however, in my mind and many like it, these are logged as failures long before a retrospective view is forced that ultimately leads to another scratch on the experience tree. There are moments where the bridge is burned solely to force a turnaround to face what you may have been avoiding or failed to see.

There goes my heart falling, falling, falling to the chasm created inside from a mistake, a misstep, or an uncontrollable moment only Mother Nature could create. When it hits, it hurts. It wrenches inside a pain that burns me, crushes confidence, ignites doubts, and envelops every thought. The world stops as a glimmer of self-pity sneaks in and weakness threatens to haunt me. I stagger and stumble through my mind in a cloud of disbelief, ambiguity, and empathy for any affected by this moment. It is a battle; it is hell on my mind, body and soul. Words cannot rectify it, comfort is out of reach and it is my solo internal struggle. Time, determination, dedication, and the inability to deny the fibers of my being will regenerate me and harmony will be restored; even if only briefly to carry on to witness the perfect moment we all seek. Unfortunately the return to heartbreak is nearly inevitable but it is the challenge, the moments, and the indescribable feelings inside that will always bring me back.

 After pure suffering through the dark moments of defeat, there comes a light that will shine brighter than ever before and blind the doubt that existed in my mind. With success comes renewed ambition, promise and confidence that the path I am on is deserved, honest, and merited. A successful shot is followed by a complete adrenaline release, uncontrollable shaking, tears, and a constant replay of the matter at hand. If the reward does not fall within sight all elation is stifled, just barely, by questionable ambivalence teetering on the brink of insanity followed by prayer. My heart is on the line, living in danger. Yes, no, good, bad, what if, please Lord.

But when that moment of confirmation arrives there is nothing, I mean nothing that can contain the passion, intensity and spirit of seeing the animal down. Typically I freeze in disbelief as my heart leaves my body and soars to the Heavens with gratitude and the tears continue to drain all logic from my mind leaving only emotion. It is raw, pure, unfiltered euphoria; a high like no other. As I move to feel the concrete evidence of my success and sustenance, the smile spread across my face can be seen for miles and is broken up with intervals of laughter as enthusiasm continues to exude from my body; in all forms of tears, laughter, dance, and embrace I am there in that moment and nowhere else. It, all of it, has come together. Perseverance, affliction, endless days and nights, Mother Nature, the intellectual warfare, physical complaints, and barraging battles unique to their own, all have collided in that moment and it cannot and will not be taken away…at least until the next meeting with the foundation of rock bottom starts its vicious cycle again.

It heals and it haunts…

Baby Brows ‘Bout Time Buck

 

 

*If you haven’t read my “Bittersweet Buck” blog, take a moment to go read that one before proceeding. It will help explain why Baby Brows is my ‘Bout Time Buck and add more meaning to this one. Here is the link: http://community.deergear.com/Article/BittersweetBuck I haven't updated it on my blog yet but its still currently up on the Legendary Whitetails page.

 

It was a typical weekend in the Texas Hill Country with rain forecasted which always seemed to happen when we headed there to hunt; it never failed it would rain at least one day but it was a hot Friday; Texas hot. We were hunting ground blinds in thick cedar (as much as I love being in a tree this area was not prime for tree stands, climbers, or even tripods so we had to forgo the hot boxes). It was 94 degrees and we sat in different areas; my husband, best buddy, and me, sweating, in shorts and snake boots waiting for the last possible moment to put on face masks or face paint. Rain was on the way the next 2 days so we were hoping for a successful hunt on Friday; It didn’t happen. We saw some movement but nothing legal or old enough.

 

 

Saturday morning it poured rain as we sat in our ground blinds listening to the pitter patter on the roof, watching a few drips come through, and hoping for it to let up and the deer to get moving. It didn’t happen. With a full moon and rain the odds were stacked against us but a cool front moved through with the rain and dropped the temperatures down to 59 degrees. The cloud cover from the cool front had blocked out the bright moon and Saturday afternoon looked to be the most promising for activity. We all made it to our stands early and I saw some movement about 4:00pm but nothing legal or mature. I was just happy to be in rain boots and pants instead of shorts and sweating!

 

 

A text message showed up on my phone about 6:30pm that our buddy shot a doe and he could see her laying about 20 yards from where he shot her. I texted back my congratulations and looked up to see a buck walk out of the brush. There he was standing broad side but with the antler restrictions in the county we were hunting I needed him to look at me or away to check his rack size. *The antler restrictions are for a 2 buck county where 1 buck must have one unbranched antler (a spike, 3 pt, or freak) and the other buck must have an inside spread greater than 13 inches, usually at the tips of their ears when alert. He finally turned to look in my direction and I confirmed he was big enough, a beautiful 9 pt. (The final measurement was 15 3/4 inches).  My heart began racing…

 

Trail Cam pic from the week before of Baby Brows

I was already in disbelief that this buck was even close enough to shoot. We were hunting a low fence, low deer population area with some of the most skittish deer I have ever hunted. They are definitely always on high alert compared to the deer I have hunted in South Texas and spook very easily; in 5 years of hunting this place the quantity of deer taken was low, well deer taken with a bow. The neighbors are content rifle hunting and shooting young deer or being reckless with their kills so our management of passing on young, although legal, bucks was in constant battle with those around us without the same management ideas. Regardless of what others were doing though we stayed true to our morals and ethics over the years and passed on young bucks more times than I can count hoping we would be rewarded.

 

As my heart started beating in my ears I made the decision of using my 20 yard pin. He was standing about 25 yards away because I had ranged a group of cactus in front of him at 22 yards and a group behind him at 28 yards earlier when I first got in the blind. I try to range landmarks early instead of waiting until the deer is in front of me to range distance so I can eliminate unnecessary movement. As I began to lift my bow, I caught a glimpse of another set of antlers in the brush so I pulled out my binoculars to look. He was a much younger buck but now I had another set of eyes to potentially bust me. My buck was now alternating between looking forward at the other buck and in my direction at the blind. I was completely blacked out in the blind with a long sleeve black shirt and black face mask but as I mentioned before, these deer are always on high alert.

 

I was trying to calm my breathing as I picked up my bow to draw. There wasn’t a breath of wind and the woods were dead silent so I knew I was going to have to be extremely stealthy and make small movements. I drew back but it was the slowest I had ever drawn my bow making it the most difficult. The adrenaline was pumping and as I lowered my pins onto his shoulder they went black. No longer could I see the fiber optics of my pins of green, yellow, red etc; instead my tunnel vision took over and I watched my top 20 yard pin hover over his shoulder. At this point he had turned in my direction and was looking at the blind. I watched the muscles in his shoulders for any type of twitch that would indicate he was about to run just as I released on him.

 

He didn’t jump my string and as my arrow slammed into his shoulder I heard the beautiful ‘thwack’ of the hit. He turned and I saw about 4 inches of my arrow with the lighted nock stick out. My arrow had passed through, although not a complete pass through, but I knew I had made enough penetration to drop him hopefully nearby. I could only watch him run a few yards before he was out of sight because the cedar trees are extremely thick; so I listened. I thought I heard a crash but my heart was still in my ears and I was shaking so bad I wasn’t sure what I heard. I fumbled for my phone to text that I had just shot a buck. Now the hard part…wait. I waited for about 30-45 minutes and my husband crossed the ranch to meet me to start tracking.

 

It was now dark and the ground was still wet from the rain and visions of my Bittersweet Buck danced in my head for fear of the same situation. I found blood at the impact site and both pieces of my arrow 5 yards behind there covered in blood. It resembled a lung shot because of the air bubbles so I knew the blood trail was going to be more minimal than a heart shot. We began tracking a small blood trail, marking each last spot with my lighted nock before moving forward. The positive of the wet ground was the imprints of his tracks as he ran and dug into the ground. We had only tracked about 30 yards when we saw a large pile of fresh deer droppings and a larger pool of blood. We both smiled at each other because that was a great sign! We both shined our flashlights up and there another 10 yards was my buck lying against a tree.

 

 

From where I stood I couldn’t even see his antlers but I didn’t care. I immediately burst into uncontrollable tears (yes ladies probably the ugly cry) from joy, years of hard work and never giving up, accomplishment and gratefulness. I just stood there holding my hands over my mouth as 100% pure unfiltered emotion took over. I grabbed my husband as he gave me a big hug and I cried. He walked over to him first because I was still frozen and ensured he was expired and grabbed his antlers. I finally followed and was able to see my buck as I took a huge deep breath. It is so hard to explain in words that exact moment and feeling especially after years of heartbreak and frustration; it was ‘Bout Time!!! (and if you couldn't tell the name Baby Brows came from his super small brow tines but they had character because he had green moss/tree leaves on them from rubbing - which I also found a fresh rub while tracking him!)

 

 

I filled out and attached my tag, loaded him up and then headed to pick up our buddy’s doe he had already tagged and field dressed. We headed back to camp to take a few pictures and hurry to get him cleaned and on ice. Although it was a cooler night, the temperatures still required us to get him cleaned, quartered and on ice as soon as possible. We decided on a European mount for my buck and wrapped his head up for transport. I was on cloud nine for the rest of the weekend (ok... I still am) and could barely sleep that night with such a big grin on my face! The entire hunt from start to finish was an out of body experience that I replay over and over in my mind that I will never forget.

 

I am working on a more poetic version of the feelings, emotions, sights, sounds and overwhelming joy in an attempt to explain that moment from my heart in a way that I feel will capture it to the best of my ability.

 

 

 

   Also I want to give a huge shout out to Deer Creek Cover scent who not only personalized my dirt foam soap, bar soap, after shower body spray, and scent cover field spray but kept me stealth in the field! This ground blind ninja is one happy huntress!

Doe-Licious Delight & Coyote Chaos

 

 As much as I love to bow hunt whitetail I encounter situations that require me to pick up a rifle. These are rare moments, especially when hunting deer, but that was the case this past January. An opportunity was presented to conduct deer management on some property in Deep South Texas & with over 5000 acres to cover in 3 days & plenty of tags to fill I knew I would have a rifle in my hand. There wasn't time to scout or set up good bow blinds and the land owner needed some doe herds thinned out. The land was going to be leased out for the following season & who could pass up an opportunity to fill our freezers & feed our family!

 Most of the hunting was done down long senderos and hitting up water sources so we tried to increase the challenge by taking long shots, usually 200+ yards each time.
 

Over the next few days we were able to put 6 doe in our ice chests & another friend filled his with 3 doe as well. Knowing we would be keeping some of the meat but also filling our parents & families freezers was very rewarding and being able to help out the land owner in the process. 9 doe may not be a big dent in the doe population but it could only help.



The 3rd doe I shot was  in the early afternoon and the weather was warming up so we field dressed her immediately so we could continue to hunt (this was actually one of the bigger doe I shot but the angle in the picture below made her look smaller-we were keeping her in the shade to keep her cool as well). We left the gut pile and headed out to finish checking senderos. We were making our way back to the area of the gut pile when we saw a big ol bobcat run off from the pile! It had not been more than an hour since I had shot the doe and the bobcat found his own dinner quickly and during daylight hours! We tried to get a shot on the cat but he was too quick for us!

In between filling ice chests we were always on the lookout for predators, pests, pigs and javelina to hunt. While driving around midday we headed to one of the water sources for some action. When we drove up over one of the damns we all spotted a coyote devouring an animal carcass.

The first shot from our friend was a miss but then my husband took a follow up shot while the coyote was on the run and he hit him. We quickly made our way over to him. This was turning into a team effort and since he was still alive (broken back) I then put two .40 rounds into his head. Dead coyote. As always I wanted pictures (have to share with y'all) so I drug him out of the brush & proceeded to take pictures. 

 

 As I laid him back down I freaked out! He started breathing and moving his mouth. At first I thought maybe it was just his body reacting to the shots and being held upside down but when we put a boot on his stomach he pushed it off with this breathing & started moving! A few more rounds in him finally led to his expiration. I would have thought 2 shots to the head would have sealed the deal but apparently I was wrong!

 

 This was one tough coyote & here I was holding him up taking picture while he was still alive!! The only comfort I had was that I had on snake boots that came up to my knees and 3 bottom layers of clothing! As you can see from the picture his gnarly teeth were well within range of latching onto my leg and leading to a whole mess of problems! Not the smartest moment I have had in the woods! 

 

 

The last morning of the hunt hubby and I were sitting together watching a sendero when we saw 2 doe come out. They were calm and relaxed and it was his turn to shoot; as he was getting set up for a shot at 180 yards we both noticed something else in the distance.

 Sneaking up behind the two unsuspecting doe were 2 evil conniving coyotes. We were about to witness them carry out their plan of attack from behind on the smaller doe and we were not about to let this happen. The doe had no idea the coyotes were sneaking down the road. As much as we wanted to get another doe on ice and meat in the freezer, we knew taking down these predators and saving the doe and future fawns was more important.

 So hubby turned his sights of his .270 to the coyotes and took a shot at 200 yards and dropped the first coyote in his tracks. He moved quickly to try for a shot on the second coyote but it had already made its way into the brush. The doe scattered as expected but we were happy to have destroyed that coyote and ruined their plan of attack!

 

 So yes the coyote in this picture was shot by my husband and not me, but he isn't as excited to take pictures as I am haha! However, that coyote was very smelly and my hands stunk for quite some time afterwards! 

 It was a great weekend trip of filling freezers, managing the doe population, taking down some predators and I even did a little javelina stalking with my bow that came up short. Now all of those doe are in our freezers and the freezers of our family. The land owner thanked us over and over but we were the ones who were extremely grateful for the opportunity to hunt, feed our family, and make memories to last a lifetime!