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!

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!

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!

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!