Blacktail Archery 2020I hunted for almost a month straight this year and was usually up in the tree an hour before sunrise, hunting till dark with a headlamp exit. Last year I got my buck on Nov 2nd but this year I made the switch to bow and struggled and at one point went seven days without seeing a deer. By any accounts it looked like 2019 was a more successful season. But the grind meant I had more than 200 extra hours in the forest—200 more hours thinking about deer, wind, sounds, gear—trying to make the little details count. Photos of buddies’ bucks kept me charged up.
(Last year’s buck.)
I passed on some does early and one I missed clean from gear failure, the arrow burying past the broadhead blades in an alder. I swapped out that gear and felt fortunate I didn’t wound her. With November moving into its second half I told myself I’d be happy with a doe for my first year with bow’n’arrow.
Tomorrow was a day forecasted without rain and cooler than recent ones. I got up at 4:45 to allow extra time navigating a new route and dark hike to the stand. 1.5 hours before sunrise and even at zero degrees I’m starting to sweat while trying to walk quietly through the woods. If I sweat I’ll be cold on the stand while it dries and I’ll have spread my scent all over the area. Drop the backup, loose the shirt. I found my stand, killed the headlamp, climbed to the platform: shirt, fleece, synthetic puffy, down puffy, soft camo outer layer, neck warmer, toque, gloves. Time to sit and enjoy the sounds of the dark forest waking up below me where occasionally I’d hear footsteps on dry leaves.
At 7 a.m. I saw a buck cruising through the forest 50 yards from my stand but couldn’t call him back with bleat or grunt. At 8 a.m. I saw a doe feeding 55 yards away, watched her for 15 minutes and that itself was enjoyable. I was looking through 8 x 42 Nikons at the brush behind her and made out the shape of an ear and bit of brown antler. She fed closer and a buck moved out. A 3 x 2 rack. She closed to 35 yards and he followed to 40. She browsed salal and fern, he didn’t eat at all and rarely took his eyes off her. For the next hour she slowly fed closer to me with him in tow. Then twigs snapped to my right. Both deer heard it too, froze and scanned. Don’t be a human, bear, cougar. I slowly swiveled my head. Two more deer fed out, two does.
I’m in the middle of these four deer and assume my scent is moving to one of them—but I’m hoping the high pressure day is pulling it upwards over their heads. Two deer groups separated by about 70 yards and I’d imagine they’d think the midway point between them is safe. It’s not. Both groups close the distance. The buck is now 35 yards broadside. I told myself 30 yards max this first year and I don’t draw back—but I think about it. My heart rate was absolutely jacked. I notice my breath in the cold air is misting up in big plumes and if they look up this way they’ll see it. I start breathing through my nose and it made a difference. Four deer surrounding me and I’ll have to draw with 8 eyes looking for things that want to ruin their day.
I tried to be in a meditative mind state to relax for the shot so as not to punch the trigger. I told myself it doesn’t matter if I don’t get the deer, it’s not the end of the world, don’t force it. I tried to recite the alphabet backwards to calm my heart rate and that goes like this: Z buck Z buck Z buck...
[***After posting this story at Huntingbc.ca Forums I hit the maximum character limit. So the story continues at Under Big-Hearted Skies with more pics.***]
...cut the tags, season over, great year and already looking forward to next. I'll be practicing lots of awkward and angled shots with full cold-weather clothing in the offseason. Just donated to BCWF and HCTF to pay it forward for future generations.