A Day in the Life of a Bowhunter
It doesn't get any better
by Kevin Lee McIver
Bow hunting for whitetail deer takes you to
the edge and tests your hunting skills to their maximum.
You must admit, there is something special
about using only a bow and arrow to take your game. Perhaps it is
something nostalgic, reminiscent of our native forefathers.
Maybe it's the fact that you only have one
shot and you must make it count or go hungry. Either way, many hunters
find it to be the most challenging hunting method.
The best way to describe this to the
non-archer, is to relate a typical day's hunt from last season. As with
most of my hunts, the day began with wakeup at 4:00 a.m.
After taking half-an-hour to don my hunting
clothes, make some coffee and load the truck, I headed out for one of my
favorite areas near Columbus, Georgia.
Arriving at 5:00 a.m., I quietly checked
the area to ensure my stand was still intact and that no other hunters
were land-grabbing in the area.
After returning to my truck, I unpacked my
bow, attached the razor-sharp broadheads, applied plenty of insect
repellent, collected the remainder of my hunting gear, drank one last cup
of coffee -- then moved toward my stand about 5:30 a.m.
Some 15 minutes later, I arrived at my
stand and tied my bow to a lowering line dangling from a nail embedded in
the tree stand. Next, I placed out some acorn covering scent, checked the
orange tape shooting markers encircling my stand, and climbed upward into
the tree tops.
After fidgeting for another 15 minutes, I
finally settled in -- and then the waiting began. Although I knew my deer
"should" be moving down a trail cutting across my shooting lane
around 8:00 a.m., one can never be certain when it comes to a whitetail.
At 6:30 a.m. the sun crested the horizon
and the forest became alive with the sounds of its inhabitants scurrying
about. The waiting continued.
Using my binoculars, I slowly scanned the
area looking for any sign of movement. The rustling of a leaf, the bending
of a branch, or movement in the shadows -- anything which would give me
advanced warning of an approaching buck.
At 6:50 a.m. I spotted movement about 80
yards out, but couldn't identify the source. Shortly thereafter, I heard
what sounded like a heard of buffalos moving through the silent woods. My
pulse quickened. Five minutes later, a flock of turkeys crossed my flank.
The waiting continued amidst the swarm of mosquitoes and the
ever-increasing Georgia heat.
Instinctively, I found myself checking my
hunting equipment about 7:00 a.m. Arrow nocked -- release strap tight --
sight pins straight and clear -- bowstring intact. Then I looked around my
stand to ensure all the distance markers were visible, as I slowly moved
my body onto the edges of the deer-stand seat to ensure it didn't creak --
as this would send a deer into the next county.
At 7:15 a.m. I glanced to my right and saw
a mature doe nibbling on an unforeseen food source. How did she get there
undetected? Was the wind blowing from me to her? How far out was she? Was
she alone, or was there another one to my rear, which would see my
movement? Could I turn, standup and draw an arrow unnoticed? Don't know
unless you try.
As slowly and quietly as possible, I stood
up in the stand without looking at the deer for fear she would see me. It
seemed like it took a minute to stand up. Glancing downward, the deer was
still feeding.
Now I would have to turn my body toward her
so I could draw and sight-in. Looking at my feet, I canted each foot
toward the animal, ensured I wasn't spotted yet, then turned my torso and
shoulders. Good -- still undetected.
Next came the task of bringing the bow
on-level with the target, drawing, sighting-in and releasing the arrow.
Now the doe was about 20-yards out and oblique toward my stand -- not the
best target presented, but I've had worst.
With her head down, I raised my bow -- bam!
Her head snapped up and she was looking right at me. I must have made a
noise that I couldn't hear (if she would have winded me, she would have
took flight immediately).
This is the part I hate, when we are
staring at each other (and deer usually have more patience than us) and I
am holding a bow at shoulder level. After a few moments, I began to
tremble (excitement and fatigue of awkwardly holding a heavy object). I
just knew she would see me shaking as she continued to look my direction
in an attempt to figure out what was amongst the branches.
Finally after what felt like an eternity,
she dropped her head. I drew back and released the arrow now covered with
sweat. It seemed she heard the vibration of the string before the arrow
cleared the rest -- and off she went at full speed. No matter, I saw the
vanes of my arrow protruding from just below her shoulder as she ran. Now
to listen for the sound of her dropping to the ground.
More waiting -- didn't hear her collapse.
The old rule of thumb is to wait at least half-an-hour or more. I waited
an hour and then descended from my perch.
Remembering where she was standing when the
arrow struck, I quietly moved toward the location -- small speck of blood
-- yes, the arrow had flew straight.
Moving down the intermittent blood trail, I
saw her about 60 yards ahead. Carefully walking up to the fallen doe, I
tapped her leg with my bow to ensure she was gone. She was gone, the
broadhead had done its job.
By the time I completed field dressing the
deer, filled out the compulsory deer tag, loaded her into the back of my
truck, and collected my gear, it was 9:30 a.m. Not bad -- it had been a
good day's hunt after all.
Bow hunting for whitetail deer is one of
the most challenging and rewarding adventures one can undertake. It takes
a lot of practice, considerable skill, and a lot of patience. It also
takes much trial and error to perfect the art. Trail and error which can
only be gained from practical application in the field. The first time,
you will be hooked for life.
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