I'm mostly a lurker, so many of you might not recognize my name. I don't usually post unless I have a question or a story. Here's my story from January 2nd until now. Sorry for the wall of text. For those that hate walls of text, scroll to the second post that is the cliff note's version.

We had a extended new year's weekend to head to the camp. It was me, Ryan (my 7 year old boy), Craig (my hunting buddy), his 16 year old son and a friend of theirs that is 18 and had never been hunting.

So we headed out on the 3 hour trip to get to my place Friday Morning. We arrived, unloaded and promptly headed to the shooting houses. Craig took the 18 year old with him since it was his first time out, I had Ryan and since the 16 y.o. had been with us several times and has earned my trust, he got to stay in a shooting house by himself.

The good #1
It was drizzling rain and things were quiet and slow until after noon. We had a doe and fawn (no spots) come in. I had warned Ryan that any deer he wanted to shoot had to be within 30 yards. He's a little fellow and isn't big enough for a rifle but has shown me time and again that he can hit the X on a target with a crossbow within 30 yards. So we watch for about half an hour as the doe and fawn make their way close enough for him to take a shot. Unfortunately once a deer is that close a little fellow has a hard time aiming down enough to shoot. By the time he was comfortable enough to take the shot she was about 20 yards away and he was standing in a swivel chair that I was trying to keep steady for him to get the angle. He takes the shot and I see her buck and run about 8 yards. She looks around and slowly walks out of the field. I can see the blood pumping out and know he's made a great shot.

The bad #1
After waiting about 15 minutes he is chomping to go she so I go to open the door ... Oh no, the block of wood we have nailed to the outside has somehow twisted and now we are locked in. Ryan starts to panic. I'm talking full out meltdown, hyperventilating and the whole works. I could break down the door, but we don't have any more plywood at the camp to fix it and I wouldn't want to leave it busted. I could text Craig, but I'm getting text from him that he has bucks in his field. Or I could climb out the window and jump down the 5 feet. I'm an athletic guy, hell the day before I had run 7 miles. Being a dad I chose the option that would help out the little guy the fastest. In hind sight I should of let him pass out. I climb out, jump down about 5-6 feet and know instantly that I messed up. I guess I hit a dirt clod and sprained my ankle at best, broke it at worst. I walk up the steps and unlock the door. I take off my boot and can see that the swelling has already started. After about 5 minutes I decide to text Craig for help. Gather everyone and come get me to go to Selma for a Dr. But of course before we can head out we need to find Ryan's first deer. The other boys track it down. She had walked out of the field, gone about 60 yards making a loop and was almost back in the field when she laid down to die.

Here's Ryan with his first deer before he got bloodied.


The boys stayed at camp and Craig took me to Selma Urgent Care where I learn that I have indeed broken my fibula and need to see an Orthopedic doctor the following Monday. They give me a prescription for some feel good pills, we get it filled and head back to camp. Craig and the other boys clean Ryan's deer.

The good #2
I decided that there's nothing I can do better if I head home and we spend the rest of the weekend at the camp. The 18 y.o. is a really nice kid and I'm happy to say that he was able to bag his first deer that weekend.


Monday morning (Jan. 5th) I went and saw the doctor in Mobile and with better x-rays. He informs me that it's broken and dislocated. Here are the pics of before he set my ankle and after. You can see how far over it had to move and you can see the break. That was a whole new kind of hurt having my ankle pushed over like that. He had said if they couldn't move it over they would have to operate the next day, but would rather wait until Friday for the swelling to go down if it could be set. It was so swollen he didn't know if he could get the skin to close back.


The following Friday they operated getting a plate, 7 screws and 23 staples to hold it all shut.