Great stuff, guys!
It was first weekend of November 1994, making me all of 25 years old.
A neighbor who didn’t let anyone hunt told me out of the blue I couid Hunt her 35 acres. Turns out a doe had eaten her roses down to the nub.
It was mostly cutover with thick baby pines but there was one little Oak knoll. I drove by it on 4-wheeler. The oaks were full of squirrels. That was enough to decide that’s where I’d hunt.
The next Saturday, I drug my Griz ladder stand in and set up. Within minutes the doe came by about 30 yards out. I hit her a tad far back but she was mighty sick when she left. It was a short tracking job finished with a knife, which was a bit ugly.
I was shooting a 70 lb Power Mag I bought new from the late great Delano Geoghagen, who had a bow shop in Arab. I was shooting either Thunderheads or Muzzys.
I found rubs while tracking the doe and got a pretty good 7 point with my gun on the place the next year. Also got a Fox with my bow on that knoll. My brother did too.