I'm not sure if I'm looking for advice, solace, a scolding or what, but I am absolutely disgusted with myself. The property I hunt doesn't produce very many trophy bucks and I haven't seen one in the flesh since 2006.......until tonight.
I was bow hunting today and had already missed a doe this morning (that's another story about Rage BH being worthless) and decided to try the same stand tonight. I had made up my mind to shoot a 5 pointer with a growth on his neck if he came in. Well, he did, but he was not positioned right and I decided to wait until he presented himself. As I waited, a couple of smaller does came in and then I saw bone through the trees. A young 8 point made his way into area. He pushed the 5 point out, but wasn't overly aggressive. I decided not to shoot him because I knew he was young.
A few minutes later, an 8 point walked in. His tines weren't that long, but he was a wide one. If I could take him with the bow, I would have him mounted for sure.
As I was watching him push the other couple of bucks around and making the does jittery, I caught another flash of antler out in the road. I knew it was the big 9 point (I have all three bucks on camera. Pics once I get the card back from Dad). It took him a couple of minutes, but he finally came in with the others. He made his way to the corn, but he was giving me a quartering to shot. We all know that is not a good shot, right? So, I waited.
Does were bouncing around. The 5 point with the growth was on the fringe while the small 8 and big 9 ate corn. The big 8 was harassing the does. The does decided they had enough and bolted. The 5 point wandered out of range and the big 8 went after the does. All that was left in range was the small 8 and the big 9. The small 8 left first and he went in a direction that I knew would not favor me if the big 9 followed. Well, he did.
I picked a spot that I knew was the only opportunity I had for a clear, sub-30 yard shot on this big fellow and I drew and waited. Sure enough, he turned away from the corn and started walking in that direction. Once he cleared the branches of the gum tree, I put the pin on him and released. It looked like a good shot, but immediately, I started second guessing the placement.
After he bolted, I listened but I never heard the crash. It was just quiet. I got down and checked my arrow. There was blood and tissue all the way up the shaft, but unfortunately, I saw a little green matter on the fletching. I think the arrow entered a little further back than I wanted and probably exited without hitting a lung.
I found only a few drops of blood but hopes were raised when I found larger splatters of blood, but the trail ran cold. I looked and trailed and marked and doubled back and what have you but never found any more blood or the deer. Here is where the anguish sets in. As much patience as I showed during this particular hunt, even when big boy showed up, it all went sailing out the window as soon as I thought my trophy was going to get away.
I watch the hunting shows where people whistle or grunt to stop a deer. I didn't. I let an arrow fly without knowing that he was stopped or whether or not I was anchored. Why couldn't I just let him walk and hope that he would circle back around if the does and other bucks came back in? I am 100% at fault for a deer (regardless of trophy status) walking around in the woods with a wound that has the potential to make his remaining days miserable. I guess there is the chance he could survive, but that doesn't give me peace of mind that he isn't in a boat load of discomfort and pain.
I'm not going to put a bullet in my brain over this, but damn if I don't feel lower than low. How do you cope?
I was bow hunting today and had already missed a doe this morning (that's another story about Rage BH being worthless) and decided to try the same stand tonight. I had made up my mind to shoot a 5 pointer with a growth on his neck if he came in. Well, he did, but he was not positioned right and I decided to wait until he presented himself. As I waited, a couple of smaller does came in and then I saw bone through the trees. A young 8 point made his way into area. He pushed the 5 point out, but wasn't overly aggressive. I decided not to shoot him because I knew he was young.
A few minutes later, an 8 point walked in. His tines weren't that long, but he was a wide one. If I could take him with the bow, I would have him mounted for sure.
As I was watching him push the other couple of bucks around and making the does jittery, I caught another flash of antler out in the road. I knew it was the big 9 point (I have all three bucks on camera. Pics once I get the card back from Dad). It took him a couple of minutes, but he finally came in with the others. He made his way to the corn, but he was giving me a quartering to shot. We all know that is not a good shot, right? So, I waited.
Does were bouncing around. The 5 point with the growth was on the fringe while the small 8 and big 9 ate corn. The big 8 was harassing the does. The does decided they had enough and bolted. The 5 point wandered out of range and the big 8 went after the does. All that was left in range was the small 8 and the big 9. The small 8 left first and he went in a direction that I knew would not favor me if the big 9 followed. Well, he did.
I picked a spot that I knew was the only opportunity I had for a clear, sub-30 yard shot on this big fellow and I drew and waited. Sure enough, he turned away from the corn and started walking in that direction. Once he cleared the branches of the gum tree, I put the pin on him and released. It looked like a good shot, but immediately, I started second guessing the placement.
After he bolted, I listened but I never heard the crash. It was just quiet. I got down and checked my arrow. There was blood and tissue all the way up the shaft, but unfortunately, I saw a little green matter on the fletching. I think the arrow entered a little further back than I wanted and probably exited without hitting a lung.
I found only a few drops of blood but hopes were raised when I found larger splatters of blood, but the trail ran cold. I looked and trailed and marked and doubled back and what have you but never found any more blood or the deer. Here is where the anguish sets in. As much patience as I showed during this particular hunt, even when big boy showed up, it all went sailing out the window as soon as I thought my trophy was going to get away.
I watch the hunting shows where people whistle or grunt to stop a deer. I didn't. I let an arrow fly without knowing that he was stopped or whether or not I was anchored. Why couldn't I just let him walk and hope that he would circle back around if the does and other bucks came back in? I am 100% at fault for a deer (regardless of trophy status) walking around in the woods with a wound that has the potential to make his remaining days miserable. I guess there is the chance he could survive, but that doesn't give me peace of mind that he isn't in a boat load of discomfort and pain.
I'm not going to put a bullet in my brain over this, but damn if I don't feel lower than low. How do you cope?
