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!

A Love Story

I wish I would have met you sooner had I known how much you would change me. You gave me life and a new perspective on the world, something I never knew existed at such a level.

You were a challenge from the start; to learn your characteristics, your methods, and your tiny quirks, yet you still challenge me every day as I continue to learn, grow, and progress with you.

You have granted me the most intense heartbreak, consuming joy, and emotion filled days, nights, and years that could never hold a price.

We have been many places together, experiencing some of the most breath-taking views, adrenaline-filled nights and heart-stopping moments.

You have never failed me, never broken, never waivered; but I have misunderstood you, failed to trust you, or doubted myself with you. But those moments have to lead to growth.

Your artistry and refinement are systemic as you bend ever so delicately, yet maintaining intense strength and power.

As my hand grips around you, I pull you ever so slowly to me, and hold on just for a moment before the most perfect release. The rush of the flight is a spectacle to witness day or night as it collides in pure exquisite elegance.

Through you I see things differently, more focused and aligned, diminishing all the outside world and for that I am forever grateful.

Happy Valentines Day to my love...my beautiful bow!

My Furthest Bow Kill

It was a Monday night, January 18, 2016 to be exact, and I felt compelled to go out searching for hogs because I was unable to go on the weekend. I met up with Jackie, one of the girls who worked on the ranch, and we set out stalking for hogs. As we walked down the road we saw 2 big black spots running across the field in the dark; we tried to turn to cut them off but they linked up with another group of hogs that came into range before we were ready. Frozen in an open road with no cover and less than perfect wind, I stood and watched their movement. We couldn’t advance forward so we crouched and watched. Unfortunately they started to scatter, I stood and began to draw on one but they crossed a small hill and headed downwind of us eliminating any attempt of a shot.

As we made our way back down the main road towards the target feeder I saw another large group of hogs crossing the field. Once again we stopped and I watched them cross the road. This time we had good wind but they were splitting up and moving away from us. I was conflicted between continuing on to the hog at the feeder and trying to stalk this group. As I stood and contemplated, I watched the hogs; the group had stopped nearly 80+ yards away and 3 solo hogs had broken away from the group and were now parallel to us and the road. I ranged one of the solo hogs at 48 yards.

I was unsure of the shot at that distance. I practice out to 55 yards, mostly for elk hunting, but this was at night, in tall grass, on a smaller target, and out of my comfort zone. The hog I ranged moved away but another one nearby was still standing and feeding in the field, so I drew and decided to take the shot. My hope was that if I missed it would be a clean miss and the group would spook slightly, move on and we could continue to stalk to the hog at the feeder. The red light on my bow was dim at 50 yards so I took a few extra looks outside of the peep. I put my lighted 50 yard pin on the hog and released.

Although I have increased my draw weight to 47-48 pounds, at 50 yards there is still some time to watch my arrow get there. So as Jackie and I stood in the dark watching my blue lighted nock fly through the air I heard it hit! Not only did the arrow hit on the hogs left shoulder area, but it squealed, completed a 180 turn and dropped right in her tracks! As I began to freak out, Jackie was just as excited. Jackie is a hunter, but has never been involved in bow hunting and as she expressed “that was the coolest thing I have ever seen” I responded in disbelief by saying “I am not that good, they never drop like that!”

I ranged the hog again to confirm I wasn’t completely insane and it said 48 yards. Jackie tapped me on the shoulder and said “Candace, you were standing back here next to me”. Apparently I had taken a few steps forward after I shot to anticipate the hog running and I needed to keep my red light on her for as long as possible. So I took a few steps back to where Jackie was still standing and ranged again. 50 yards! I nearly fell over from disbelief but still had to finish the job.

As a bow hunter typically the only time an animal will drop like that is due to a spine shot which requires a follow up shot. With my pistol on my hip and my AR-15 in Jackie’s hands, we slowly made our way over to the downed hog. I told Jackie, if she gets up to run shoot her! As we approached I looked for my arrow in her spine but couldn’t see it. She wasn’t trying to get up but still breathing so I told Jackie to put a bullet behind the ear for our safety and to ensure faster expiration because I was unsure of where she had been hit. As we flipped her over to see my shot I found my arrow broken and bloody, lying under her body. To my surprise there was a broad head hole right in her lower shoulder where I had pierced her heart!

The rainbow effect of my arrow at 50 yards created a perfect downward angle right behind her shoulder and it had created just enough penetration to knock her down. I was completely baffled and stunned that I had just made that shot! Everyone told me I should have just said “yeah I am that good” or “I do that all the time” but my over-excitement clearly showed that didn’t happen all the time!

I practice shooting my bow quite often, I practice out to 55 yards, I even practice in the dark, but to see it come to fruition with a witness by my side, I was in heaven.

We drug her to the road and weighed her on our hitch hoist at 133.5lbs. It was officially my longest confirmed kill shot ever with a bow and one of the few shots where tracking was not needed!  I was impressed with her extremely long Russian snout and the smile on my face could not be erased for days!

Tina’s Thanksgiving Thriller

About 7 years ago I met Tina at work and we instantly bonded over our love for the outdoors; her passion for fishing and my insane addiction to hunting led to hours of conversation and story swapping. After years of listening to my incessant outdoor adventures I guess she decided to try it out. At age 50 Tina bought a rifle (a shotgun and a mountain of hunting gear) and decided to start hunting. The following year she told me she wanted to learn to bow hunt & I was elated. We made a trip to the bow shop, got her all set up & she began practicing. She killed a doe and some hogs with her rifle but never had many bow hunting opportunities that year. You should know that Tina is one of the most dedicated new hunters I have ever seen; researching, reading, practicing, and participating in every part of the hunt from start to finish learning as much as she can and it was about to pay off in a big way.

Fortunately we were able to make a trip to a favorite place of mine in South Texas. My husband and I are always blessed to go on doe patrol (doe/herd management) and even more so to bring Tina with us. I knew the opportunities for her first bow kill would be abundant and it would be a trip to remember.

Upon arrival we set up a ground blind and stalked for hogs that night; I chased a javelina with my pistol, but no luck on either. Thanksgiving morning as we were walking in the dark to the ground blind we spotted a hog. As we stood in a line next to each other, my husband, Tina & I waited for this hog to come into range. Tina’s comfort zone was 25 yards or less and as I ranged him she prepared for action. With our red lights on him he made his way closer but was facing us eliminating a good shot. At 18 yards Tina started backing up getting a bit nervous, but I was able to get her to stand her ground. At 16 yards he turned, Tina shot and we watched her lighted nock dart off into the thick South Texas brush. Everyone was so excited and I could see her smile even in the pitch black of night! She had just arrowed her first hog!

The shot was good, just a bit high in the lungs, so after a quick look we decided to give him some time and set up in the ground blind for more hogs. Still beaming with joy from her shot, I was now in the shooters seat ready and waiting when a group of hogs started feeding in. I could hear them grunting and eating on the corn but didn’t have a visual yet.  Finally, a boar came into view at 12 yards and I launched my arrow. He squealed and ran down the road, then 20 more seconds of squealing, followed by the squeal of death! My face lit up because I knew he was down! Tina changed seats with me hoping for more hogs but with possibly 2 dead hogs around the odds were against us.

We finally exited the blind and immediately spotted my hog lying in the road; my first full blondie hog! We took pictures while my husband and friend made their way over to see our kills! My husband had already shot a javelina with his bow that morning too. We started crawling through the thick brush to look for Tina’s hog, and after about 60 yards of getting stuck and stabbed by the brush we found him! The excitement of her first bow kill will be a moment none of us will ever forget. As she walked up to him all of her hard work and hours of practicing were validated; it was also a very special moment for me. I was there for the ignition of the hunting spark, helping her get her first bow, providing the little knowledge I have, and standing beside her as she shot and recovered her first animal with a bow…I was a proud and overjoyed friend and fellow hunter!

As we loaded up the hogs and made our way back through the ranch we spotted a group of javelina. Perfect! Tina had her bow in hand as I ranged the group at 35 yards. As we started walking toward the group 2 more javelina ran into the road at 26 yards. We stopped and she shot! Immediately upon her arrow slicing through the javelina she let out a squeal of her own followed by laughter and high fives from everyone! It was another moment I will never forget because she was able to see this shot in full daylight and watch him run just a few yards before expiring. She has just notched 2 of her first bow kills in one morning, Thanksgiving morning! What a great start!

The evening hunt and next morning hunt didn’t produce much but the trip was already a success in my book! We set out for doe patrol with our rifles and Tina and I each helped out with herd management and putting meat in our freezer with 2 deer down.

The weather was nice so we continued to search for javelina. Tina took a shot on her second javelina; a protective female who wasn’t giving up without a fight. The shot was a complete pass through and a bloody arrow was found but as we were tracking she made her presence known with the popping of her teeth (a sound that will definitely make you jump if you have never heard it before). With my pistol drawn during the tracking process because of the low visibility & maneuverability of the thick brush and a possibly wounded animal I was unable to get a clear shot on her. After a short standoff we were able to get a better angle and put a finishing shot in the javelina for a quicker expiration and Tina had her second javelina & 3rd bow kill down!

We sat back in the ground blind that evening waiting on the anticipated cold front; however, it arrived many hours earlier than expected. Tina and I were on the opposite side of the ranch and the plan was to stalk towards where my husband was for hogs and javelina, but as the front arrived with high winds, freezing rain, and a 40 degree temperature drop, our plans changed and my husband was already making his way to pick us up to get back to camp. As we drove back in the dark, pouring freezing rain and winds we shivered in the Polaris but as we made the turn onto the last road everything changed.

There in the road through the wind and the rain, illuminated by our red light was a large group of about 20 hogs feeding in the road. Tina had her shotgun loaded with buck shot so the hunt was on. As we stepped into the road we were slipping and sliding in the mud making too much noise, so we stopped and stood. With the freezing rain stinging our faces the group of hogs slowly fed down the road to us. The wind was perfect and muffling any noise as Tina steadied her shotgun. She fearlessly let the group of hogs approach to less than 20 yards and shot, and then shot again and again. As hogs scattered and the adrenaline was pumping we saw 2 small hogs laying in the road; a boar and a sow. We checked the area for any other wounded ones but didn’t find any more. Our frozen bodies were soaking wet but had warmed up just enough from the adrenaline to enjoy the moment, take pictures in the rain and load up the hogs. One was quartered up and the small sow was left whole for a nice BBQ dinner! Tina was beyond excited with this crazy impromptu hunt and my heart smiled as I listened to her back at camp recount the stories over the phone to her family.

The rain continued through the night leading to a long day of hunting in mud, drizzle, and cold, but we weren’t going to just sit at camp! As we made our way to one of the fracking ponds we spotted a coyote running across the damn and my husband quickly grabbed the rifle for a shot. At 140 yards on the run he was able to hit both back legs of the coyote and a few follow up pistol shots led to one less predator on the prowl. Successful team effort!

The evening hunt was slow until dark when my husband dropped a hog and we added another round of pork to the cooler. Everyone was having success!

We stalked for hogs into the night and set up for one more morning hunt. With no luck at first light we began stalking for javelina when I was able to get one down with my bow to end the trip with another animal down.

With 5 hogs, 4 javelina, 2 deer and a 1 coyote down, it was one of our most successful hunts in south Texas but not because of the animal count; this trip was all about Tina. Not only was she able to get her first bow kill (and second and third), but she gained a vast amount of hunting experience, confidence in her own abilities and made memories to last a lifetime. This trip was exponentially greater than anything she could have read, researched or been told because experience in the field is priceless whether an animal is killed or not.

I am so proud of her and her accomplishments and knowing another hunter has the passion and knowledge to carry on our hunting heritage is phenomenal. Whether you are a 10 year old child or just starting to hunt at age 50 like Tina, all that matters is that you are in the field hunting legally, ethically, and enjoying each moment. Carry on the passion and let it shine so others see it; you never know who you might be inspiring!

My First Elk

Welcome back to Colorado. It was only our second year hunting elk; all DIY, all public land. We had drawn either sex elk (and mule deer) tags for the units we wanted and the hunt was on.

It was the third day of the hunt and we had seen a elk in a few different spots but all about the same elevation. We climbed up to a spot next to a narrow but deep ditch that continued to the bottom of the mountain. The hope was if the elk came from one direction it would force them up and over right into my lap. I set up right on a game trail seriously contemplating my spot and if I should move. My husband was set up 30 yards from me to call and our other buddy another 30 yards past him so there wasn't anywhere else for me to go.

After a few series of calls it remained quiet. About 6:30pm an elk calf jumped over some brush and stood on the trail 7 yards from me. It caught me off guard, but I just froze and watched. She crossed back above the ditch and all was quiet again. My husband called but not much response.

Finally at 7:15pm we heard a call back. A few chirps back and forth and I was convinced it was another hunter. I had never heard an elk in the wild (only on videos and calls) but it sounded too perfect; I was ready anyway standing with my bow. A few more chirps back and forth and then some heavy rustling around in the brush. There was no way this was a hunter!

My heart started racing as a million thoughts went through my head. Will they cross over, will I have a shot, what will it be, will they present a shot before it gets dark, stop shaking, dang it! my release came out of the D-loop, how far was that tree, and that tree...what are you worried about 90% of the shot windows are 20 yards or less, stop overthinking it, remember the vitals, remember all the practice...wait...is that an elk head?

As I stood shaking in complete awe of the vocal conversations going on between my husband and the elk, I was growing more excited. A huge smile was already on my face to be witnessing a magical moment of my husband talking to the elk! As I looked up I saw a cow elk head grabbing Aspen leaves with her mouth and ripping them off. Her ears were huge out to each side and I just prayed she kept moving into view. I didn't have a shot because only her head was visible. I saw the calf jump through the brush behind her and knew this could really happen.

Daylight was fading and I was trying to force my eyes to adjust to the mountain light and shadows. The cow slowly exposed herself from the brush and I drew knowing she was about 20 yards away. But wait...no it wasn't good. The grass and brush was so tall shooting upward and I didn't feel I had a clean shot. I held for a few seconds but knew it was wrong and I wasn't comfortable. Trying to let down slowly I hear my husband softly calling to her and she started walking again.

As I let down my adrenaline got the best of me and it happened too fast. My arrow fell off and hit the dirt beside me! Oh geez, I am about to mess it all up and ruin my chance! As she stepped behind a pine tree I saw my chance to grab my arrow and get set again. Luckily my husbands calls had kept her pre-occupied on him and not on me. As I watched her slowly come into view from the pine I drew my bow back again shaking and trying to calm myself.

She stepped between two aspen trees just wide enough to frame her vitals and then it was a blur. I don't even remember aiming, releasing or the impact. I heard my arrow hit...something...but it was so close and happened so fast I was unsure of what my eyes had seen. With a lower draw weight I don't always get complete pass throughs (especially hunting hogs with their tough shields) so it's not uncommon to see my lighted nock sticking out of the animal as it darts away. I guess I was expecting the same thing but I never even saw my lighted nock!

The final distance of the shot was an incredibly close 8 yards! There wasn't much chance of missing her but I could have made a bad shot which is much worse than any clean miss.

After the loud thwack the woods came alive like I've never seen or heard! This massive animal was breaking trees like twigs and her heavy footing broke all silence surrounding us. She ran about 30 yards straight to my husband where he said he could have reached out and touched her! He was so nervous she was going to trample him sitting under the tree he leaned back and she caught his movement causing her to run up another 15 yards.

As I am standing in my spot in disbelief wondering what just happened he said he could see my great shot placement and hear her struggling to breath as a typical lung shot will cause. I was so excited but confused of everything happening so fast, I left all my stuff and made my way to my husband. He confirmed I made a good shot and we just needed to wait for her to fall. Daylight was nearly gone and our buddy slowly made his way to us. We could barely see her as she took a few steps back towards my spot and then we heard the sweetest crashing and rolling noise my ears have ever witnessed!

Still in disbelief and scared of pushing her up the mountain we waited a few minutes longer. Animals can do crazy things and I was not about to push this beautiful elk any further up or around this mountain knowing we would be packing her out. Finally, we started by following the blood trail just to be safe and within 30 seconds our buddy spotted her first! Before I could even walk up to her I turned and embraced my husband with tears already flowing, the biggest smile ever, and complete euphoria and disbelief.


The moment I saw her will forever be frozen in time; her massive belly was its own mountain and the sheer size of her took my breath away. She was up against a tree and we needed to move her for pictures and to hopefully roll her down the steep slope some. Luckily we were able to roll her a short distance and then set up for pictures. Her head was so heavy and covered my entire body. Her hide was gorgeous, her face serene and I thanked her for her sacrifice and her meat.

We were able to roll her down a little more before we reached a path of no return. As we rolled her my arrow came out still in tact! I had punctured both sides of her but it stayed inside. (For size relevance my arrows are about 26 inches long and the entire arrow was inside her meaning she was much wider than that!) We had to stop and start quartering her up or risk losing her in the deep ditch and risk our safety. So the long process began in the dark of getting her valuable meat into game bags and down the steep, nearly 30 degree incline to the ice chest in the truck. We also found my glowing nock inside her while cleaning her! Although the distance to the truck wasn't miles the brutal hikes up and down 4-5 times was harsh.

Nearly 5 hours of quartering her up, packing her meat and falling down and up the mountain with just flashlights and faith, our rookie team of 3 had officially called in, shot and killed, and packed out a beautiful cow elk. I can honestly say it was one of the toughest and most rewarding moments of my life. Everyone was truly in beast mode pushing themselves beyond their limits. The falls, the sudden stops by trees, the 'just tuck and roll' or 'go with it' moments, the cursing as your frame pack hangs up on a tree, and the entire body exhausting process will humble you.
 

Final Words: WORTH IT!

P.S. I will have a special blog coming up about the custom calls we used and why they mean so much to us & the maker of them!

 

 

 

 

A Dandy Dirty Doe

2015 started off with a trip to Deep South Texas for a hunting trip with some friends. We had hunted this part of Texas before but never this exact spot so we took 4 pop-up blinds to help keep us mobile for changing deer patterns. Most of the set-ups already there were for rifle hunting so we needed to be prepared. The forecast was for rain, rain, cold, and more rain.

On New Year’s Eve we made our way south nearing the Texas/Mexico border; the rain had made the roads extremely sloppy and our trip took a nasty turn when our truck and flatbed trailer with the Gator on it slid off the road into a small ditch. It was a mess. We had to unload the Gator to use it to pull the truck and trailer out of the hole, all while it was 36 degrees and raining. Needless to say after a lot of messy, muddy work we finally made it to deer camp, completely soaked and covered in mud, but still excited to hunt.

 

The next morning we headed out to scout a few spots for blinds and found a some senderos that looked promising. After a few hunts with no success we moved one of the blinds to a sendero with a feeder on it. The brush in South Texas is extremely thick leaving only small roads or senderos to hunt, therefore baiting is almost necessary. Regardless of hunting over bait, this wasn’t going to be an easy task. We set up the ground blind in the new spot and brushed it in completely. I knew these deer were going to notice this new “bush” in the road but had to take my chances; leaving only a tiny opening for a shooting window I had to be as concealed as possible knowing these deer would be on high alert. I was 30 yards from the feeder and we had thrown out more corn in the road to help.

As I watched birds scurry about it was 5:15pm when I saw a very large doe step out into the road 17 yards away. The brush is so thick you cannot see the deer walking toward you or if they are in your area unless you are elevated in a blind rifle hunting. The trees aren’t tall enough to put stands in to bow hunt out of but the brush is just high enough to cover the heads of deer. The windows of opportunity bow hunting here were slim. As she stepped out, she immediately looked at my brushed-in blind and walked back in the brush. My heart started racing because for the brief moment I saw the front legs and chest of this doe, I knew she was a big, mature doe and was ready. I steadied my bow and waited for her to calm down and hopefully make a return appearance.

 

As I tried to calm my breathing and nerves she came back out into the road and headed to the corn. I decided to give her a little time to get comfortable (animals are always more alert when eating) before I took the shot. She finally turned completely broadside as I drew and released. I saw my arrow fall out the other side of her as she darted into the thick brush. I was shaking and just knew I had made a good shot. As I went to nock another arrow my heart sank. A bobcat crossed the road and stopped for a brief second (not long enough to get my bow drawn again) and headed in the direction of my doe.

 

Just my luck. (I have mentioned before that I have never shot and recovered a deer while bow hunting during a morning hunt. All of my kills have been afternoon or evening hunts where tracking and recovery is usually after dark or at dusk). It was raining, foggy, only 45 minutes until dark, and a bobcat was traveling in the same direction as my doe. So I prayed. Then I text my husband and a few friends to pray for a quick expiration and hope that the bobcat didn’t run my doe into another county or start destroying her. I was torn between going to search for her and keep the bobcat off of her or wait the full 30 minutes. I compromised instead.

 

I exited the blind quietly to check the impact site and arrow for blood to determine my shot. There was blood where I had hit her and my arrow had bubbly blood on it. I had a feeling she probably ducked a little when I shot and hit lungs instead of heart but I was confident after seeing the arrow and blood at impact site as well as blood on the cactus right on the edge of the road. I sat back in the blind and prayed again that the rain wouldn’t wash away the blood and this would be a quick recovery. I waited about 25 minutes and decided to go look before I lost light.

 

I only took my pistol because the brush was so thick I was going to be crawling on hands and knees and didn’t want my string getting cut by cactus, mesquite thorns, and everything else that sticks and stabs. I knew I had to be ready to shoot a bobcat that might have started his dinner on my doe and possibly recruited others. The tracking process was about 15 minutes, mostly because getting through the brush was so thick and the blood was deceiving because of the rain. I was alone because my husband was still hunting and I didn’t want him to miss an opportunity but I knew I couldn’t wait for him.

There she was, about 50 yards from where I had shot her. I could see her, but couldn’t immediately get to her because of the brush. I looked around for a hungry kitty cat but was relieved when I was alone. My eyes began to fill with tears and I tried to jump up and down and do my victory dance but the brush was so thick I cut myself on some thorns and stuck myself with cactus instead (well worth it).

I finally made my way to her and realized since I had been crawling and finding ways through the brush tracking blood, I wasn’t exactly sure where I was anymore or how close to the road I was. I tried to drag her but without my game hauler I wasn’t going to get far. Light was fading fast and the rain was steady; I had 3 flashlights with me (red, white, and green) so I left the white light with the doe pointing upward for a marker and attempted to make my way back to the road. My husband and friend were now on their way to me and somehow I made a quick exit to the road, pushing through thick brush getting cut up more. When I saw them walking towards me I ran to my husband crying and laughing with excitement and we embraced for that amazing moment we live for.

 

As we walked the road we found my white light and realized she was only about 15 yards from the road! We recovered her and headed back to camp to weigh the big girl. She was 130 pounds of beautiful venison, although completely soaked and covered in mud. I know that may not seem like a big deer to my Northern friends but in the Texas Hill Country a big doe is 90 pounds making this southern girl a fatty! She was my biggest doe taken with a bow and I was ecstatic to share another hunting moment with my husband and great friends. We were so blessed to hunt on their ranch and leave with an ice chest full of meat! That was one dandy dirty doe!

I also stayed true to one of my New Year's Lifestyle changes (not resolutions) and documented the hunt in my Rite in the Rain Notebook!

 

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…

Content in Colorado

 

I am not the first, I am not the last, there have been many before me, there will be many after me; but I am one. One of the blessed to have set foot into a world that cannot be explained through pictures, videos or descriptions alone. It must be experienced, smelled, touched, lived, harnessed & embraced.

 

It will wrap you up, consume you, and dominate your entire soul without much effort. You will become its host as it dives deep into a part of you that has never existed in the forefront of your being. It will transform your thoughts, your breathing, your perspective & your movement through moments that captivate & morph your mind.

 

So cheers to you Colorado for every single tiny moment you presented to me and know that the one word that punched me in the heart with every step was thankful. But that single word fails to fulfill the vast amount of emotion I have about it.

 

 

The following is an attempt to respect the high country with each moment, thought, reflection or encounter with forever gratitude of each…

 

*The opportunity to make the journey to such a beautiful place with such genuine people

   

*A safe trip to and from our destination

*The motivation provided to push my exercise routine to the max prior to the trip and the hard work paying off carrying me through the mountains over 40 miles. Being able to focus on everything else and not being tired or sore was phenomenal and worth every drop of sweat leading up to the trip

 

 

 *Spring water from the sink faucet to fill up my Platypus hydration pack (South Texas misses the mark on tasty sink water!) 

 

*Pockets – oh how I am indebted to my pockets! Some filled with gear while others were filled with almonds and protein bars

  

*REI and the LOWA boots they fitted me with. (Lowa Renegades to be exact) Light, comfortable, and carried me for 7 days without fail, through rocks, water, steep inclines, and deep ravines

  

*Great weather! Although it was a bit too hot for elk, we could have had rain, hail, sleet, etc throughout the trip. Even though we did not get an elk the gorgeous weather made for unforgettable views and memories 

 

*Being overwhelmed by the Aspen eyes and the changing leaves just in the short time we were there. Some thought the Aspen eyes were creepy but I thought they were caring and watchful. I felt safe as the mountain watched over me and the others and embraced me in their warmth of their yellow leaves. Sitting and glassing or calling one leaf would fall and seemingly tap me on the shoulder and whisper to me. Magical and content.



 

  

*All of my senses – Vision (which for some of you know my struggle) to be able to see and feel with my eyes the unparalleled majestic views that were continuously presented to me. The pictures fall far from reality, fail to provide the angles and nuances witnessed

Smell – the invigorating scent of nature’s air freshener of the towering pines pleased my nose (and the pine needles were even used to smash between my armpit to help reduce scent from a little sweating during some of the climbs! Yep I improvised!) The smell of fresh, clean, untainted air!

Hearing - rather listening not hearing. My ears were overcome with the moments of deafening silence then filled with the sounds of water. Tiny trickles in some areas, rushing over pebbles in others, and some splashing when I fell in a few spots. Birds, squirrels, mule deer tip toeing and hopping through the thick willows, followed by the screech of a hawk overhead and the hoot of an owl in the evenings. I listened constantly to my feet on the dirt, rocks, dried pine needles, and bark beneath as I was carried higher into the mountains

Touch - I reached out and felt everything; the cold, very cold, water on my bare feet and hands as I bear crawled across a rushing creek, the bark of the aspens, the strength of the willows as they cut into my hands as I held onto them to keep from sliding down the slopes, the wet dirt near the base of the pines, and the cool mornings

Taste - yes the taste of the rock face I kissed when I reached the top of one of the steepest mountains I have ever climbed and the intense salt flavor of a salt block I found on one of our hikes for the free roaming cattle. How could I not kneel down and taste it!

   

 

*The laughter, oh the laughter I am thankful for to have had with some amazing people. Although most of it was me being a dork there were so many moments of true happiness, laughter, and endless smiles that I cannot begin to list them all; in the mountains, in the truck, and back at the lodge

 

*The unique moments that cannot and will not be experienced again on any other trip; you cannot relive any of these 'firsts' again which makes them so special. Although we will go again and create more memories, moments, and monumental achievements, the first trip will always be special. The mistakes, the exploring and learning along the way, and all of the firsts of everything are burned into my soul

*The pure unfiltered experience of just being there; forgetting I was even hunting and staring in awe at everything God has made. All the moments when we just stood and stared; no words, no movement, just embracing the moment for what it is and that we were there in that place at that time. Finding the beauty in each and every piece of the mountain was enough to fill my heart even if a tag wasn't.

 

There is so much more I was thankful for on this trip that just can't be put into words, rather they are in my heart, pulsing through my veins, and filling my being until I can get back there soon.