bowhunter1023
11-24-2008, 09:48 AM
“If you set goals that you consistently fall short of; in reality you are setting yourself up to be a failure…”
In the struggle to form a new identity in the post-Deuce era, I found solace in the words above. I have failed to reach the one goal I have worked so hard for these past few years; I was holding out for a 140” buck and it had to be with the old stick and string. When I decided to stop at nothing in order to reach that goal, I had no idea the stress it would put me under both mentally and physically. It has been a four year journey with ups and downs that would rival the best of roller-coasters. In the end, failing to reach a “simple” goal turned into a life changing ride and last night, it all finally made sense…
The Wallow of Self-Pity
“Maybe I should stay home. There is plenty I could do here and I’m already running late…” There I stood in the shower engaging in another internal battle in the midst of my fourth straight season that seemed destine for failure. I had already hunted over 30 times and logged over 130 hours on stand with nothing to show for it but the passing of a 125” 10-point mere hours before I came face to face with Deuce on the wall of a gas station. I wasn’t showering. I was wallowing in self-pity…
“No. Do you remember what happened last year when you stayed home and felt sorry for yourself?” How could I ever forget that moment? There is nothing like using a trail camera to get photos of all the great wildlife in your area. But when it shows you that your dream buck walked within 30 yards of your stand when you were not there, you want to destroy ever camera you can get your hands on! If I don’t learn from the bad, how can I ever be there for the good?
“You’re going. Wash up and let’s get out of here. You never know what will happen and you know that is the truth. So get moving…” As my internal struggle came to a close, I began to feel like maybe today could be the day. After all, both my dad and the neighbor had been seeing a big buck working under my stand behind the house. It is only 11 acres. But it is the right 11 acres. I knew it was a good evening spot and I couldn’t help but have some confidence in what I was doing for the first time in weeks…
Where did he come from?
At 3 o’clock, I pulled into my parent’s driveway and fired up my smoker. After getting dressed, packing my bag, and smoking up, I head off for my stand. As I was walking through the cattle field, I stopped to mess with the button buck that has befriended our cattle and now spends most his time inside our 3 acre enclosure. I finally decided I had had enough fun and time was of the essence. I wasted little time covering the 300 yards between the button buck and my stand and by 3:25, I was in my stand.
After I got my bow ready and on the hanger, I pulled on my sweatshirt and bibs. I stopped to range a few spots and then grabbed my gloves and facemask. I pulled on my gloves and stopped to scan my surroundings, all was clear so I grabbed my facemask and put it on under my hat. I was all geared up and ready for what I hoped would be a solid two hour hunt. It was time to take a seat…
“Snap!”
Not ten seconds after taking a seat and going into “Hunt Mode”, I knew I had company and it was directly downwind. I turned and looked over my right shoulder and about fell out of my treestand! The last thing I expected to see was a buck that soon, and coming from that direction. How in the world I did not jump this deer, I will never know. I went through the gate at the head of the draw he came from and I was now sitting at the exit of the draw and the total distance between the two, is not more than a 125 yards.
There he stood at 20 yards, eye-level, behind my tree and sniffed the air trying to figure out who/what was in his neighborhood. I was able to stand up against the tree and as he dropped his head to sniff the leaves, I was able to get my bow off the hanger and get turned towards him. At this point, a million thoughts rant through my head in a matter of a few seconds. “He’s not big enough…But he is mature…Man, he is busted up… And look at that mass…Dude, get the monkey off your back and move on.” That last thought was all it took to end this buck’s career…
By this point, he had been downwind for over a minute and he decided it was time to move on. He started to circle me in order to cross the creek at 40 yards instead of the 20 he probably would have had the wind been in my favor. I came to full draw and as I started to settle the pin, I looked down and saw my cam resting on my pack. “You have to be kidding me! What was I going to do now?” I bleated twice and he wouldn’t stop, so I upped the volume and he stopped quartering-away at 32 yards. I settled the pin and stood up on my tippy-toes to give my cam enough room to roll over and I let loose…
All I heard at the shot was the sickening sound of my arrow hitting his stomach and I was instantly scared. I was already starting to go through a mental check list for the tough tracking job I was expecting, when he stopped on the other side of the creek 40 yards from the shot. I could see him standing there and I was doing my best to get my binocs out of my pack, when he went head over rear-end and piled up in the creek. "Holy cow! I just smoked him!!!
The neighborhood bully…
It didn’t take me long to gather up my gear and get out of my tree. As I walked up on him, I realized he was bigger than I had first thought and the shot was on the money. He has a broken brow-tine, a broken kicker that looks to have been 4-5” long that would have came off the bottom of his left-G2, which was also broke in half, and his right G2 was snapped clean off. He had a split-brow and great mass. Overall, he had nine scorable points. He also sported a few scars I believe came from fighting. This guy was definitely a scrapper. And the shot? Well, it went in off the back rib, cutting the liver in half and cutting a huge chunk off his off-side lung, and exited behind the front shoulder. I did catch his stomach, but the Rage did its job and he never stood a chance…
When I took him to the check station, I ran into a guy that lives on my parent’s road and he told me had seen this buck in the same field I had seen my ’04 buck in before I killed him. The genetics are eerily familiar and I wonder how much they really do have in common. He told me that he had seen him before he was all busted up and from the sounds of it, he would have grossed in the upper 120’s before busting off everything. Score was just not going to do this guy justice.
In the end…
So for the fourth season in a row, I failed to reach my goal and I guess that makes me a failure to some degree. But, I am willing to accept that for the first time in four years. The journey that has been this four-year quest, as shown me several things and this hunt proved to me the one thing I always need to remember: It can happen at any moment. I consider myself to be a very blessed man and I believe that I was supposed to shoot this buck. I was given the gift of a mature whitetail with a bow yesterday, but I got so much more from it than just a decent set of antlers. I was given a clean slate and renewed hope. I remembered last night why I do what I do and why I love it so much.
I feel like a new man and a new bowhunter. This buck is a blessing and I will always be grateful for our encounter. He breaks the rule I set for putting bucks on the wall. But when I walk past him in the living room in the years to come, I’ll know that he represents the turning point in my bowhunting career. “That’ll do pig. That’ll do…”
http://i515.photobucket.com/albums/t359/jroush1023/DSC00990.jpg
http://i515.photobucket.com/albums/t359/jroush1023/DSC00991.jpg
In the struggle to form a new identity in the post-Deuce era, I found solace in the words above. I have failed to reach the one goal I have worked so hard for these past few years; I was holding out for a 140” buck and it had to be with the old stick and string. When I decided to stop at nothing in order to reach that goal, I had no idea the stress it would put me under both mentally and physically. It has been a four year journey with ups and downs that would rival the best of roller-coasters. In the end, failing to reach a “simple” goal turned into a life changing ride and last night, it all finally made sense…
The Wallow of Self-Pity
“Maybe I should stay home. There is plenty I could do here and I’m already running late…” There I stood in the shower engaging in another internal battle in the midst of my fourth straight season that seemed destine for failure. I had already hunted over 30 times and logged over 130 hours on stand with nothing to show for it but the passing of a 125” 10-point mere hours before I came face to face with Deuce on the wall of a gas station. I wasn’t showering. I was wallowing in self-pity…
“No. Do you remember what happened last year when you stayed home and felt sorry for yourself?” How could I ever forget that moment? There is nothing like using a trail camera to get photos of all the great wildlife in your area. But when it shows you that your dream buck walked within 30 yards of your stand when you were not there, you want to destroy ever camera you can get your hands on! If I don’t learn from the bad, how can I ever be there for the good?
“You’re going. Wash up and let’s get out of here. You never know what will happen and you know that is the truth. So get moving…” As my internal struggle came to a close, I began to feel like maybe today could be the day. After all, both my dad and the neighbor had been seeing a big buck working under my stand behind the house. It is only 11 acres. But it is the right 11 acres. I knew it was a good evening spot and I couldn’t help but have some confidence in what I was doing for the first time in weeks…
Where did he come from?
At 3 o’clock, I pulled into my parent’s driveway and fired up my smoker. After getting dressed, packing my bag, and smoking up, I head off for my stand. As I was walking through the cattle field, I stopped to mess with the button buck that has befriended our cattle and now spends most his time inside our 3 acre enclosure. I finally decided I had had enough fun and time was of the essence. I wasted little time covering the 300 yards between the button buck and my stand and by 3:25, I was in my stand.
After I got my bow ready and on the hanger, I pulled on my sweatshirt and bibs. I stopped to range a few spots and then grabbed my gloves and facemask. I pulled on my gloves and stopped to scan my surroundings, all was clear so I grabbed my facemask and put it on under my hat. I was all geared up and ready for what I hoped would be a solid two hour hunt. It was time to take a seat…
“Snap!”
Not ten seconds after taking a seat and going into “Hunt Mode”, I knew I had company and it was directly downwind. I turned and looked over my right shoulder and about fell out of my treestand! The last thing I expected to see was a buck that soon, and coming from that direction. How in the world I did not jump this deer, I will never know. I went through the gate at the head of the draw he came from and I was now sitting at the exit of the draw and the total distance between the two, is not more than a 125 yards.
There he stood at 20 yards, eye-level, behind my tree and sniffed the air trying to figure out who/what was in his neighborhood. I was able to stand up against the tree and as he dropped his head to sniff the leaves, I was able to get my bow off the hanger and get turned towards him. At this point, a million thoughts rant through my head in a matter of a few seconds. “He’s not big enough…But he is mature…Man, he is busted up… And look at that mass…Dude, get the monkey off your back and move on.” That last thought was all it took to end this buck’s career…
By this point, he had been downwind for over a minute and he decided it was time to move on. He started to circle me in order to cross the creek at 40 yards instead of the 20 he probably would have had the wind been in my favor. I came to full draw and as I started to settle the pin, I looked down and saw my cam resting on my pack. “You have to be kidding me! What was I going to do now?” I bleated twice and he wouldn’t stop, so I upped the volume and he stopped quartering-away at 32 yards. I settled the pin and stood up on my tippy-toes to give my cam enough room to roll over and I let loose…
All I heard at the shot was the sickening sound of my arrow hitting his stomach and I was instantly scared. I was already starting to go through a mental check list for the tough tracking job I was expecting, when he stopped on the other side of the creek 40 yards from the shot. I could see him standing there and I was doing my best to get my binocs out of my pack, when he went head over rear-end and piled up in the creek. "Holy cow! I just smoked him!!!
The neighborhood bully…
It didn’t take me long to gather up my gear and get out of my tree. As I walked up on him, I realized he was bigger than I had first thought and the shot was on the money. He has a broken brow-tine, a broken kicker that looks to have been 4-5” long that would have came off the bottom of his left-G2, which was also broke in half, and his right G2 was snapped clean off. He had a split-brow and great mass. Overall, he had nine scorable points. He also sported a few scars I believe came from fighting. This guy was definitely a scrapper. And the shot? Well, it went in off the back rib, cutting the liver in half and cutting a huge chunk off his off-side lung, and exited behind the front shoulder. I did catch his stomach, but the Rage did its job and he never stood a chance…
When I took him to the check station, I ran into a guy that lives on my parent’s road and he told me had seen this buck in the same field I had seen my ’04 buck in before I killed him. The genetics are eerily familiar and I wonder how much they really do have in common. He told me that he had seen him before he was all busted up and from the sounds of it, he would have grossed in the upper 120’s before busting off everything. Score was just not going to do this guy justice.
In the end…
So for the fourth season in a row, I failed to reach my goal and I guess that makes me a failure to some degree. But, I am willing to accept that for the first time in four years. The journey that has been this four-year quest, as shown me several things and this hunt proved to me the one thing I always need to remember: It can happen at any moment. I consider myself to be a very blessed man and I believe that I was supposed to shoot this buck. I was given the gift of a mature whitetail with a bow yesterday, but I got so much more from it than just a decent set of antlers. I was given a clean slate and renewed hope. I remembered last night why I do what I do and why I love it so much.
I feel like a new man and a new bowhunter. This buck is a blessing and I will always be grateful for our encounter. He breaks the rule I set for putting bucks on the wall. But when I walk past him in the living room in the years to come, I’ll know that he represents the turning point in my bowhunting career. “That’ll do pig. That’ll do…”
http://i515.photobucket.com/albums/t359/jroush1023/DSC00990.jpg
http://i515.photobucket.com/albums/t359/jroush1023/DSC00991.jpg