Slinky Pickle
11-14-2016, 08:28 PM
Went out to my whitetail spot this morning. I had seen a decent buck on my trail cam and was hoping to come across him today. I got to my hidey hole and set up. For some reason I decided not to bother rattling or grunting today so I just used the doe bleat every once in a while.
From my spot I can see about 500 yards in most directions. I glassed and sat and glassed and sat. Eventually I succumbed to the evil smart phone and starting playing crib to pass the time. At one point I looked up and there was a small buck coming at me. He looked like he was trying to find his love struck doe and wasn't paying much attention to anything else. He kept coming... and coming... and coming. I quickly played over my options in my head. I have two really nice mulie bucks on another trail cam and I really want to spend some time looking for them. The big whitetail that I had seen on my camera was still nocturnal and I doubted I would see him in day light any time soon. So, little guy, your time is up.
He was quartered towards me at about 40 yards and was looking right at me. He started to get a bit twitchy and stomped a couple of times. It was now or never so I set the cross hairs tight against the back of his front shoulder and pulled the trigger. Good story so far? Well from here it all goes to crap!
He turned and ran. He didn't' jump, flinch, stumble or anything. He just ran. As he was going out of sight I tried to make another shot on him but I'm pretty sure that shot missed. He ran over a hill towards the tree line and disappeared. I sat there wondering what had just happened.
He didn't react like I had hit him at all. 40 yards, how could I miss that? Surely I must have hit him... didn't I? I sat pondering all the possibilities. He looked healthy as heck when I last saw him go over the hill so I figured I would sit for a bit and give him some time. After twiddling my thumbs for about 15 minutes I got up and decided to head to where he had stood when I shot him. I made my way over and although there were tracks, none looked really fresh and no where could I find any torn up earth, blood or hair. Once I had wandered around that spot for a bit I headed to where I had last seen him and figured I would try and find the track there.
As I crested the hill he had gone over I secretly hoped to see him laying between there and the tree line. I looked around and didn't' see him anywhere. At that point I thought I had buggered up really bad and I needed to leave him longer. It was a slow walk back to the truck while I sulked and pouted. How the heck can I miss a 40 yard shot? What the heck went wrong?
I knew I could get the truck closer to the spot where I had last seen him so I slowly drove back to where I thought would be the best spot to start searching from. Once I got there, I parked and dug out some recovery gear and started to search. At this point I had seen no blood, no tracks and no hair.
I walked along the tree line peering into the bush looking for that telltale shape and colour. I walked about 100 yards along the treeline and then turned back and went 100 yards the other way. After seeing nothing, I figured I would walk in about 10 or 15 yards and then walk the same path parallel to the treeline. After passing the same distance either way, I stepped in another 15 yards or so and repeated my path. All of a sudden I saw the shape I was looking for. It was twisted and bent over a stump with it's antlers sticking up out of the dirt. Breathing a sigh of relief, I headed towards my buck. As I got to within 10 yards my excitement turned to dread again. That darn tree root looked exactly like a dead deer piled up over a stump and the light coloured sticks poking out looked just like antlers. I was back to square one.
I moved another 15 yards into the bush and started my parallel path again. Finally on this run I cut a buck track! It had rained last night but wasn't currently raining. This track was very definitely a post rain track and it was headed down hill hard. I abandoned my grid path and started to follow this very fresh track. Step by step I followed the tracks down the hill and deeper into the bush. There was still no blood and no sign it had bedded and bled out. Was this my buck or just another buck track that was pulling me away from mine?
Step by step I kept following these tracks. I was nearing a spot where it went from steep to insanely steep. Please, don't let him be down there! Just as I got to the edge, there was as my buck. He was stone dead and had been for a while. If I play it out in my mind, from where I shot him to where he ended up, he probably lived for less than a minute. The bullet had gone in his right side a bit far back and had taken out his liver and a few other less vital bits. He was laying entry side up. There was still absolutely no blood around him. The second shot had missed completely.
After cutting my tag, I knelt down and proceeded to open him up. As soon as I got the gut cavity open it was obvious that he had quickly bled out internally but none of it had escaped through the entry wound. I quickly gutted him and then prepared for the ugly drag back up the hill that was waiting for me. I figured I could either take him up in one piece or quarter him and make multiple trips. My engineering background told me that to move a given amount of weight a given height in a given time requires X amount of horsepower. If I take half the weight but take twice as much time it's still the same amount of horsepower output. Ok, intact it is!
It took this big, out of shape fat guy two hours to get him up that hill. By the time I got him to the treeline it felt as if I had pretty much consumed all the oxygen in the area and I was spent. I still had to get him to the truck though. At least the last bit was flat and it seemed like it took almost no effort compared to what it took to get him up the hill. Finally at the truck it was one last heave and in he went.
He's now dressed and hanging in my shop. What a morning! Just to reiterate, at no time during the entire search did I ever see a single drop of blood. It was only by careful and methodical searching (and a butt load of luck) that I managed to even find his track. Following the track was really the only thing I had left to try and thankfully it worked out. It could have gone so much worse. The bottom line is that if I hadn't found those tracks, I don't think I would have found that deer. It's as simple as that.
Ok, it's 1:20 so it's time for a beer! Here's a pic to prove that it happened. :)
http://i65.tinypic.com/mhufzk.jpg
Thanks for hanging in until the end.
Slinky Pickle
From my spot I can see about 500 yards in most directions. I glassed and sat and glassed and sat. Eventually I succumbed to the evil smart phone and starting playing crib to pass the time. At one point I looked up and there was a small buck coming at me. He looked like he was trying to find his love struck doe and wasn't paying much attention to anything else. He kept coming... and coming... and coming. I quickly played over my options in my head. I have two really nice mulie bucks on another trail cam and I really want to spend some time looking for them. The big whitetail that I had seen on my camera was still nocturnal and I doubted I would see him in day light any time soon. So, little guy, your time is up.
He was quartered towards me at about 40 yards and was looking right at me. He started to get a bit twitchy and stomped a couple of times. It was now or never so I set the cross hairs tight against the back of his front shoulder and pulled the trigger. Good story so far? Well from here it all goes to crap!
He turned and ran. He didn't' jump, flinch, stumble or anything. He just ran. As he was going out of sight I tried to make another shot on him but I'm pretty sure that shot missed. He ran over a hill towards the tree line and disappeared. I sat there wondering what had just happened.
He didn't react like I had hit him at all. 40 yards, how could I miss that? Surely I must have hit him... didn't I? I sat pondering all the possibilities. He looked healthy as heck when I last saw him go over the hill so I figured I would sit for a bit and give him some time. After twiddling my thumbs for about 15 minutes I got up and decided to head to where he had stood when I shot him. I made my way over and although there were tracks, none looked really fresh and no where could I find any torn up earth, blood or hair. Once I had wandered around that spot for a bit I headed to where I had last seen him and figured I would try and find the track there.
As I crested the hill he had gone over I secretly hoped to see him laying between there and the tree line. I looked around and didn't' see him anywhere. At that point I thought I had buggered up really bad and I needed to leave him longer. It was a slow walk back to the truck while I sulked and pouted. How the heck can I miss a 40 yard shot? What the heck went wrong?
I knew I could get the truck closer to the spot where I had last seen him so I slowly drove back to where I thought would be the best spot to start searching from. Once I got there, I parked and dug out some recovery gear and started to search. At this point I had seen no blood, no tracks and no hair.
I walked along the tree line peering into the bush looking for that telltale shape and colour. I walked about 100 yards along the treeline and then turned back and went 100 yards the other way. After seeing nothing, I figured I would walk in about 10 or 15 yards and then walk the same path parallel to the treeline. After passing the same distance either way, I stepped in another 15 yards or so and repeated my path. All of a sudden I saw the shape I was looking for. It was twisted and bent over a stump with it's antlers sticking up out of the dirt. Breathing a sigh of relief, I headed towards my buck. As I got to within 10 yards my excitement turned to dread again. That darn tree root looked exactly like a dead deer piled up over a stump and the light coloured sticks poking out looked just like antlers. I was back to square one.
I moved another 15 yards into the bush and started my parallel path again. Finally on this run I cut a buck track! It had rained last night but wasn't currently raining. This track was very definitely a post rain track and it was headed down hill hard. I abandoned my grid path and started to follow this very fresh track. Step by step I followed the tracks down the hill and deeper into the bush. There was still no blood and no sign it had bedded and bled out. Was this my buck or just another buck track that was pulling me away from mine?
Step by step I kept following these tracks. I was nearing a spot where it went from steep to insanely steep. Please, don't let him be down there! Just as I got to the edge, there was as my buck. He was stone dead and had been for a while. If I play it out in my mind, from where I shot him to where he ended up, he probably lived for less than a minute. The bullet had gone in his right side a bit far back and had taken out his liver and a few other less vital bits. He was laying entry side up. There was still absolutely no blood around him. The second shot had missed completely.
After cutting my tag, I knelt down and proceeded to open him up. As soon as I got the gut cavity open it was obvious that he had quickly bled out internally but none of it had escaped through the entry wound. I quickly gutted him and then prepared for the ugly drag back up the hill that was waiting for me. I figured I could either take him up in one piece or quarter him and make multiple trips. My engineering background told me that to move a given amount of weight a given height in a given time requires X amount of horsepower. If I take half the weight but take twice as much time it's still the same amount of horsepower output. Ok, intact it is!
It took this big, out of shape fat guy two hours to get him up that hill. By the time I got him to the treeline it felt as if I had pretty much consumed all the oxygen in the area and I was spent. I still had to get him to the truck though. At least the last bit was flat and it seemed like it took almost no effort compared to what it took to get him up the hill. Finally at the truck it was one last heave and in he went.
He's now dressed and hanging in my shop. What a morning! Just to reiterate, at no time during the entire search did I ever see a single drop of blood. It was only by careful and methodical searching (and a butt load of luck) that I managed to even find his track. Following the track was really the only thing I had left to try and thankfully it worked out. It could have gone so much worse. The bottom line is that if I hadn't found those tracks, I don't think I would have found that deer. It's as simple as that.
Ok, it's 1:20 so it's time for a beer! Here's a pic to prove that it happened. :)
http://i65.tinypic.com/mhufzk.jpg
Thanks for hanging in until the end.
Slinky Pickle