Monday, October 23, 2006

Opening Day Impossibilities!

Here is a picture of the first buck I ever killed with a bow. And here's the story...

It was October 1, 2003. As all of you Michigan hunters know, that was opening day of archery season. I had just gotten interested in bow hunting a few months before. I bought an old Browning compound bow from a friend for $50 (I think the bow was vintage 1975ish, you know when bell bottomed jeans were in style...there first of many appearances!). Once I threw in another $50 or so for a sight and a release I was ready to head to the woods (and yes, I did practice with the bow first, I was actually quite good at 15 yards at that point).

I had never seen a deer up close in the wild, much less a buck. But a friend had given me a couple of deer stands which we leaned against two big maples in the woods behind our house. So, about 45 minutes before daylight on opening day I headed out to the stand nearest the river and dutifully sat still until sunrise. It was a beautiful morning, cold and crisp. And with my stand facing southeast I got a great view of the slowing emerging oranges and pinks as the sun made its way up to the horizon.

Another friend had also given me some camo to wear for this momentous occassion. He even threw in a camo face mask - you know the type the are supposed to cover everything up on your face except for your eyes. I say "supposed to" because I didn't quite know how this new fangled stuff worked. I wore the mask too low, so that it only covered my mouth and chin...I was in effect, the "great bearded hunter"! I must have looked ridiculous.

Well, about an hour after sunrise I hear this noise down on my left. It was the first sound I had heard all morning, so of course I looked down. And there he was - this pudgy 8-point buck just standing there, looking right up at me. He was probably thinking "hmmn, a white guy up in a tree with a camo beard, very interesting". I was thinking "oh man! Is that a deer? Why is he looking at me with that smirk on his face?"

For several minutes we just stood there looking right at each other. And then he turned to his left and began slowing walking away. For some reason he didn't feel too threatened by me - apparently he knew more about hunting than I did. I remember thinking as he walked away - still only about 15 yards off, "I guess this is when you are supposed to shoot". What comes next is a comedy of errors. Instead of standing up to take the shot, I continued sitting down and tried to turn my body in the stand, bumping my bow in the process. The deer turned around to look at me again, but soon lost interest and kept walking away from me ("quartering away" I would later discover). I brought my bow into position and pulled back. No luck, couldn't pull the 52 lbs. back, my arms were like rubber. I tried pulling back again...almost. A third time, yes - I managed to pull it back (this is a bit harder when seated and twisted to the left, especially when your heart is stuck in your throat and your muscles are quivering and not responding). With my bow pulled back I put the deer in my sights, but something didn't feel right. Oh, I forgot I am supposed to look through this little peep hole thingy in the string. OK, much better. So there it was, the moment of truth.

I don't even remember squeezing the release - it just sort of happened. The arrow flew down and hit the deer about half way back between his shoulder and hip. The deer ran off to the east and I lost sight of him. At first I panicked thinking that I had made a bad shot, the arrow looked like it hit the deer too far back. My stomach was in knots as I waited 20 minutes or so before climbing down the stand (I had read that somewhere in a magazine...). I walked over to where the buck had last been seen, and within about 90 yards found him laying on his side, dead as the Detroit Lions in January.

I was in utter shock. It was truly an out of body experience - like I was watching it all happen from some high flying blimp-cam. I called my wife and gushed out "I shot a buck!". She brought our 4 year old son out to the woods (we only own 3.3 acres) and we took this great picture. My next call was to my friend Jimmy, "now what do you do?" After convincing him that I had actually shot a deer in my back yard with an antique bow, and then found him within a 100 yrds. he graciously came over and showed me how to field dress a deer (an experience I will never forget and one that made me think twice about being a hunter - ugh!).

That day was the beginning of a passionate pursuit of the sometimes not-so-elusive white tail deer for me. It was also the day I entered a brotherhood of hunters that I never knew even existed. And it was the day that my son and I connected with one another in the woods and began our journey as outdoorsmen that will be ours to share for the rest of our lives.

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