Posted By: 3FFarms
So close... - 10/16/13 07:48 AM
This is from a hunt in Mississippi last weekend. Haven't had a chance to get in the woods here yet, but looking forward to doing that soon.
I was finally able to get over to the farm for a quick weekend hunt beginning Friday afternoon. I got settled in the Rat Hole about 4:45 and was sweating my tail off in a ground blind that had been placed on the edge of the field since early September. I've never been a big fan of bowhunting ground blinds, and little did I realize how much more my disdain for them was about to grow. I quickly checked the camera that I had placed there two weeks ago. I was excited to see a good number of deer using the small field daily. I was also excited to see "Back Brow", my number one target buck had been there with a group of bucks at 8:30 that morning. My expectations were sky high as I settled in and started picturing where they might appear should they revisit the field that afternoon. About 5:45, just as the shadows had started to grow, I heard some footsteps and looked to my right. There was one spot, just off the field, that was still in the sun. As I scanned in that direction I saw horns and deer, fully illuminated, almost glowing a gold color. It was just one of those sights that you dream of during the summer months. My heart immediately jumped into my throat and I grabbed my bow, beginning to prep myself for what was about to unfold. The buck was in no hurry to come into the field and as I watched him, I recognized him as one of the bucks that had been running with Back Brow. He was intently staring at the blind that I was housed within and I felt fully confident he recognized that the window was now somewhat open in what has otherwise been a solid wall for the past month. As he and I stared at each other for a minute or so, another buck came in behind him, and another, and another, and another. 4 of the 5 bucks were standing in the bright sunlight browsing and sparring....all except this one buck, Mr. Freakin Sherlock Holmes of the deer world. He was busy trying to figure out why this blind looked different than the dozens of other times he had visited the field. I quickly sized up the bucks and saw that Back Brow was in fact in the group and I made up my mind that he was the only buck I was going to shoot, no matter what happened as the afternoon unfolded. He is not the biggest or prettiest buck you'll ever see, but he is 4+ years old and we are shooting for age more than antler size. The bucks continued to browse on some honeysuckle and eventually worked their way parallel with me through the thick WRP eating acorns as they came. Finally, about 30 minutes after I had first seen them, they begin working their way into the field, a scant 25 yards in front of me. My palms were sweating and my breath was heavy as I was trying to watch all 5 bucks to see who, what and where they were looking. They begin easing into the field in a single file line; once again, a memory that will be burned forever into imagery in my mind. The first buck out was a 2 year old 6 point that paid absolutely no attention to me. First buck clear? Check. Next up was Sherlock (I named him after this encounter), a 3 year old 8 point. He was very hesitant to come out, but eventually eased out while keeping his eyes focused on the blind. Second buck clear? Check. Third on the list was Back Brow who waltzed out without a care in the world and began feeding broadside at 20 yards. He looked like a cow amongst the 3 year old bucks. It was a bow hunter's dream! Two more 8 points followed him to the edge of the field and were oblivious to my presence as well. Fourth and fifth bucks clear? Check! I had 5 bucks within 20 yards of me, and while I was as excited as I had been in a long time in the deer woods, I had absolutely no idea how I was going to pull this off. Sherlock finally put his head down and began feeding. He was no more than 12 yards from the blind. I knew I was going to have to draw and get my arrow and sight pointed through the window in one motion to make it work. I thought, "It's now or never", and began a SLLLLLOOOOOOWWWWWWWW draw of my bow as far in the corner of the blind as I could be to minimize movement. Apparently the movement as my bow finally broke over caught Sherlock's attention and in one motion, a snort, and hasty retreat back into the safety of the woods left me broken hearted. I couldn't believe it! A range of emotions came over me. I was so blown away by being that close to that many bucks, adrenalin on high for the past 30 minutes, yet so disappointed that I had not been able to close the deal on him. I thanked the Lord for such a wonderful encounter and a memory that I will never forget as my body trembled from the excitement overdose it had been on for the past half hour. I don't believe any of the bucks except Sherlock saw me and I was fairly confident they might return the following day since none of the other deer knew what had spooked him. I let the field rest Saturday morning with anticipation of getting a tripod brushed and set amongst the trees for Saturday afternoon's hunt. Unfortunately it started pouring about 2:30 Saturday and was still raining about 4. I pointed my truck back towards Birmingham still battling the disappointment of not putting my hands on Back Brow, but also thankful for the incredible experience that I had been blessed with the afternoon before. The 2013 season has started with a bang!
I was finally able to get over to the farm for a quick weekend hunt beginning Friday afternoon. I got settled in the Rat Hole about 4:45 and was sweating my tail off in a ground blind that had been placed on the edge of the field since early September. I've never been a big fan of bowhunting ground blinds, and little did I realize how much more my disdain for them was about to grow. I quickly checked the camera that I had placed there two weeks ago. I was excited to see a good number of deer using the small field daily. I was also excited to see "Back Brow", my number one target buck had been there with a group of bucks at 8:30 that morning. My expectations were sky high as I settled in and started picturing where they might appear should they revisit the field that afternoon. About 5:45, just as the shadows had started to grow, I heard some footsteps and looked to my right. There was one spot, just off the field, that was still in the sun. As I scanned in that direction I saw horns and deer, fully illuminated, almost glowing a gold color. It was just one of those sights that you dream of during the summer months. My heart immediately jumped into my throat and I grabbed my bow, beginning to prep myself for what was about to unfold. The buck was in no hurry to come into the field and as I watched him, I recognized him as one of the bucks that had been running with Back Brow. He was intently staring at the blind that I was housed within and I felt fully confident he recognized that the window was now somewhat open in what has otherwise been a solid wall for the past month. As he and I stared at each other for a minute or so, another buck came in behind him, and another, and another, and another. 4 of the 5 bucks were standing in the bright sunlight browsing and sparring....all except this one buck, Mr. Freakin Sherlock Holmes of the deer world. He was busy trying to figure out why this blind looked different than the dozens of other times he had visited the field. I quickly sized up the bucks and saw that Back Brow was in fact in the group and I made up my mind that he was the only buck I was going to shoot, no matter what happened as the afternoon unfolded. He is not the biggest or prettiest buck you'll ever see, but he is 4+ years old and we are shooting for age more than antler size. The bucks continued to browse on some honeysuckle and eventually worked their way parallel with me through the thick WRP eating acorns as they came. Finally, about 30 minutes after I had first seen them, they begin working their way into the field, a scant 25 yards in front of me. My palms were sweating and my breath was heavy as I was trying to watch all 5 bucks to see who, what and where they were looking. They begin easing into the field in a single file line; once again, a memory that will be burned forever into imagery in my mind. The first buck out was a 2 year old 6 point that paid absolutely no attention to me. First buck clear? Check. Next up was Sherlock (I named him after this encounter), a 3 year old 8 point. He was very hesitant to come out, but eventually eased out while keeping his eyes focused on the blind. Second buck clear? Check. Third on the list was Back Brow who waltzed out without a care in the world and began feeding broadside at 20 yards. He looked like a cow amongst the 3 year old bucks. It was a bow hunter's dream! Two more 8 points followed him to the edge of the field and were oblivious to my presence as well. Fourth and fifth bucks clear? Check! I had 5 bucks within 20 yards of me, and while I was as excited as I had been in a long time in the deer woods, I had absolutely no idea how I was going to pull this off. Sherlock finally put his head down and began feeding. He was no more than 12 yards from the blind. I knew I was going to have to draw and get my arrow and sight pointed through the window in one motion to make it work. I thought, "It's now or never", and began a SLLLLLOOOOOOWWWWWWWW draw of my bow as far in the corner of the blind as I could be to minimize movement. Apparently the movement as my bow finally broke over caught Sherlock's attention and in one motion, a snort, and hasty retreat back into the safety of the woods left me broken hearted. I couldn't believe it! A range of emotions came over me. I was so blown away by being that close to that many bucks, adrenalin on high for the past 30 minutes, yet so disappointed that I had not been able to close the deal on him. I thanked the Lord for such a wonderful encounter and a memory that I will never forget as my body trembled from the excitement overdose it had been on for the past half hour. I don't believe any of the bucks except Sherlock saw me and I was fairly confident they might return the following day since none of the other deer knew what had spooked him. I let the field rest Saturday morning with anticipation of getting a tripod brushed and set amongst the trees for Saturday afternoon's hunt. Unfortunately it started pouring about 2:30 Saturday and was still raining about 4. I pointed my truck back towards Birmingham still battling the disappointment of not putting my hands on Back Brow, but also thankful for the incredible experience that I had been blessed with the afternoon before. The 2013 season has started with a bang!
