My first bow kill

Finally. I finally got a deer with my bow. It took me two years--two full seasons to do it, but I did it!

Last year, I used Lynn's bow. Why? Well, it was my first time bowhunting and I wasn't going to invest in all the STUFF unless I liked it. I knew I would, but didn't know if I would like it enough to really commit myself. So, we got arrows cut for me and my drawlength. We set the bow at 45 pounds, I practiced and practiced and practiced. We sighted in sights, the guys taught me which sight pin to use where. We all know that I suck at judging distances. (I think that's one skill that guys have that girls have to learn.)

Opening weekend--Kevin broke his bow the day before, which is bad, but that was great in my mind because this way he could sit in the tree with ME and help me. But, first, I had to get out of bed--at the ungodly hour of 5 a.m. We had an hours drive and then have to get into our trees in the dark. Great, walking into a pasture, into trees in the dark. Find the right tree in the dark. Climb up into the treestand in the dark. Can I do this? Alone?

Kevin and I walked into what we now call "my tree". There were two stands there since we don't have any two man stands. I was warned that we might not see anything, that the deer might not come close enough to shoot. Ok, fine. We'll get down at 10. TEN--that's THREE hours from now. How am I going to sit still for T-H-R-E-E hours--how am I going to be quiet, what if I have to go to the bathroom?

Around 8, Kev informed me that there was a buck about 50 yards away, coming right down the trail that would come right under my stand. He whispered "Stand up and get your bow ready. Don't draw back until you've got a good shot." Ok. I can do this. I see the buck. He's a nice 3 x 3. Not big, not little, and holy cow, how cool would it be to get a buck on my veryfirstdayout! Way cool. He is so considerate too, he walks along the trail and then he cuts off it a little bit, right in front of me. I put my sight pin on him, draw back, and fleelt--he takes off running hell-bent-for. I killed a dead tree--on the ground.

"Which pin did you use?"

"My first one. Was that the right one?"

Damn. You should have used the second pin. O well, at least we won't have to cut him up in this 80 degree weather."

Unfortuantely, that was my only opportunity to shoot that entire season. But, I learned that I liked being in the treestand. I liked watching animals come and go. I liked watching them, knowing that they couldn't see me and didn't know I was there. I got to see some deer do some serious deer-flirting. No mating, but flirting. That was fun. And, secretly, I was very glad that they didn't come by close enough for me to shoot. Because, well, what if I missed?

This year, I had my own bow, a nice, light small Browning Microadvantage bow. I love it! It's quiet, light, and it's mine. 45 lb draw. Mine.

Opening day, in my tree. Kevin is in HIS tree--across the river which is dry. 7:30 a.m. I can barely make out two--at least two--bucks getting a drink from a waterhole in the river just 40 yards east of my tree. I wait. It's lighter, I can see. I'm ready. Gosh, two years in a row, opening day shots! I'm going to make THIS shot.

The bucks cooperate, walk right in front of me. I draw, shoot....and did I hit him? Not sure. Yep, I got him. No, I didn't. I know which way he ran. Wonder if he died? Well, I'll wait till we get down at 10 to go look.

Then, 3 doe come out of the trees right to Kevin. I silently stand there, watch those deer beg him to shoot at them. He doesn't. I'll bet he wants a buck. 10:00 comes and Kev walks to me. I tell him to look for my arrow, it's right where I think it should be, but no blood on it. Kev was pretty sure I missed. Dang it. Two opening mornings, two missed shots. Maybe I'm not ever going to get a deer.

Every single weekend, we go sit. I try my tree, I try Kevin's tree. I try the tree at Helburgs. Nothin. Nada. No dang deer come by me. O sure, they go by everybody else. Kevin gets a deer. Lynn gets a deer. Gene hits two, but we never can find either. That sucks, but at least he hit something! At least he had a shot!

Last day--December 31, 2005. My last chance. Kevin got a deer on the second weekend. It was another suicidal doe. Really--she walked in circles around his tree. Watching from across the river, it was like she was daring him "do you want to shoot me here, how bout here? Is this a better spot? Nanner nanner, can't shoot me." She's now in our freezer.

My gut says that on this last day, I need to be on the north side of the river. I've seen lots of deer this season, none close enough to shoot at, but there's deer. So, I inform my wonderful husband that I need to cross the river and I'll sit in his tree. The river, dry early in the season is now running. It's about 2 feet deep and 10 feet wide. I take trashbags to put over my feet to get across without getting wet. In the dark, white trashbags. Fine. Wade across. Trashbags have holes in them. That water is COLD! I'll live. Lots of willows and cattails here along the bank. I think I sound like a herd of elephants moving through here. Oops, I hear a deer up above me in a clearing take off. Dang. That was probably the only deer I'll see all freekin day. And I didn't even see it! Finally, I'm at my tree. Unhook the string, attach bow. drop glove. Pick up glove. Climb treestand. Pull up bow. Drop glove. Forget stupid glove. Hook up safety belt, put arrow on bow. Now, where to hang bow. My hand is cold, the bow is cold--too cold to hold. Hang bow. Shoot, I can't reach that bow hanging there. I'll just sit down and think about this.

Crap. There's a doe. I'm not ready! Ok, I'll just stand up. I have my bow. No, if I stand up, she'll see me and run. Crap. What do I do. Ok. ...when she goes behind that tree, I can stand. Crap, she's already past that tree. Ok, shoot her sitting down. Crap. I'm not comfortable shooting from this position. Crap.

I wind up just watching this nice little doe walk by. She takes 3-5 steps, pauses, sniffs and walks on. No idea I'm here.

Crap. What am I going to tell the guys? They are going to shoot ME! I just let her mosey on her own way. Crap. Let's get this story straight. I shot and missed. Nope, I want a buck. That's my story. Crap, it's last day. They won't buy that one. What's that sound? Whoohoo! a buck! Holy cow, a buck! O crap, I gotta get ready!

Mr. Buck is behind me, getting a drink. I stand up. He turns around and walks straight up the treerow.

Crap--he's gonna cross my scent trail. Crap. he's gonna run. O wait...

His tail comes up, he smelled somthing strange, but he's not running away. He's still coming. I know, he's going to go straight to that doe's trail. Perfect. I draw back. I keep my eye on him. I keep my finger off the trigger of my release. He stops at the doe's trail, put's his head down and sniffs. He slightly quarters away. I can see the sholder bone, I see the pocket. I hit the release. Pfleet. I got him! I know I got him! I see him jump, I see the arrow hit! I got him! He's running.

Ok. Check the time. 8:25 a.m. Ok. you've gotta wait at leat 30 minutes. That'll be 9. We're getting down at 9:30. I'll wait till 9:15 then track him. I know I got him. I'll bet Kevin saw him go by! What time is it? 8:30. Shoot. It's going to be a long 45 minutes. I hope it was a good shot. I think it was a good shot. What if the arrow just hit a rib and bounced out. Shoot. I want a deer. What time is it? 8:35. Shoot. What if I just wounded him. What if we push him when we start tracking. Ok, we'll just be careful. Nope, it was a good shot. I know it. Yep, I got him. Let's see...he's a 2 x 2. Ok. What time is it? 8:40. Shoot. How far away was he? Probably 20 yards. Ok. I know right where he was--by that clump of grass. Ok. What time is it? 8:45. Shoot.

9:15. I can now crawl down and check for blood. Put bow on stringer, unhook safety belt, climb down. Pick up bow. I quietly walk over to where I hit the deer. BLOOD! I have blood! Ok, I don't want to go right after him, I think I'll follow the river back over to Kevin. I'll try to go quietly, just in case my buck is bedded down close by. Don't want to push him.

9:25 I'm still sounding like an elephant in these willows and cat tails. How do those deer move so quietly? Where the heck is Kevin. He's gotta be here somewhere. I hate camo clothing, cause it works! "Blaah" Ok, that's Kev, I see him now too. And he says, way too loudly...

"Did you get that doe?"

"shhh. I got a buck!"

"What about that doe?"

"Shut up! I got a buck, didn't you see him run by?"

"I never saw a buck, what about that doe?"

"I didn't shoot at her."

"Why not, didn't she come right by you?"

"Forget her, yes, I wasn't ready. I got a buck!"

"What! you let her walk right by you?"

"Dang it, forget her, I SHOT A BUCK. I HAVE BLOOD."

"Oh. Ok, I'll cross over and we can track her. I can't believe you let that doe walk right by you! I just knew you got her!"

We walk up the bank to the clearing. Kev tells me to walk straight up till I hit blood and then we'll track him. So I walk, no blood. Crap, maybe it wasn't a good shot after all.

"Shelly, come here."

He's got blood. So I track. Here's blood, here's some, oh, here's a lot of blood. This spot has bubbles in it--that means it's a lung, right? Here's some, wait....wait...no blood. Ok, back up to last spot, turn looking for more...

SMACK--I smack my loving, wonderful husband's sholder.

"Dang it Kevin, he's right here on the ground--and you knew it all along. You were sitting right across the river! He died right in front of you!"

It's a good kill. My arrow is through him, but he fell on it and bent it. O well. The fletching is the only part of the arrow sticking out of the entry wound. Perfect shot. My first deer! A nice 2 x 2 buck. Small, but who cares! I CAN bow hunt.