brotherjack
09-05-2006, 09:57 PM
(skipping some fairly boring hunting that's happened in the meantime since last update)
Sept 5, 2006 (evening hunt)
Back at the water hole near the road, The Wife (tm) in the shooting position. Decided to just sit on the ground in the thick weeds and do without the blind, as the blind has seemed to make the critters a little spooky in past nights. Over the course of the night, we were reminded why we like chairs, as sitting there in the weeds perfectly still for 3 hours is very painful. Though, the deer definitely came a lot closer than when we had the blind up.
The evening started with a doe and fawn making their way ever so slowly down the trail. It was fairly early in the evening, and there was plenty of light left; which meant we had to remain perfectly still. We did such a good job of it, that the doe walked up to edge of the water hole about 5 feet from my wife (yes, five feet) and proceeded to have a long, noisy drink. The fawn hung back a little to feed in the clearing, and a spike buck came out and drank from the hole about fifteen yards away at the same time.
We were starting to experience some fairly serious pain from sitting so still in uncomfortable positions, when the doe decided to add insult to injury. Lifting her head from her drink she calmly walked around the stump I was half hidden behind, and walked into my downwind at about eight feet. Too close, even for baking soda clothes and scent-control spray. She stomps and blows for about 5 minutes, while we continue to remain perfectly still in hopes she'll calm down. She does, eventually, and finally here and the fawn leave the area. The spike buck follows a few minutes later.
After all the commotion, nothing much happened until about twenty minutes till the end of shooting light. Just as we were about to give up a bit early and go watch the Canadian Idol results show, a lone cow elk comes down for a drink. We let the evening elk pass last time, but we still haven't found a sweet spot in The Wife's LEH area, and an elk in the freezer is worth two LEH's, so The Wife quietly hands me the crossbow. I bring the bow most of the way up in the rapidly diminishing light, and wait for the elk to get close enough. The elk hangs up perfectly broadside at about 30 yards – too far for my bow. Then, with an almost obnoxious slowness, the elk comes in and starts to drink at a spot on the water hole I know is exactly twenty four yards – one yard within my comfort zone for shooting, and about eighteen minutes of shooting light left.
This is really about to happen I think, as the adrenalin starts to flood my system and my pulse rate heads sharply upwards. I breathe slow and deep to calm down and steady the nerves. I have time to wait, as she's currently quartering to me just a little to much for my comfort. If I hit her perfect at this angle, the arrow will exit about in line with the last rib on the far side; which would certainly get both lungs on the way through – but I don't trust my bow to make a 1-ish inch margin of error at 24 yards; 3 inches, for sure, but not 1-ish.
So I continue my breathing exercises and wait for her to make that last shift in position that will bring her to full on broadside (or close enough that a 3 inch margin for error is acceptable). Minutes keep ticking by until I'm starting to think that this shooting light is getting a bit dim for my taste. I bring the bow all the way up, and judge that I could still make it right that second, but another sixty seconds will be too much. Still quartering to me.
As if on cue, exactly as I lower the bow and surrender, the elk turns full broadside for about five seconds, and then heads back into the bush. Disgruntled, I honk my cow elk call in protest, and the elk barks back at me. My wife takes up the call also, and the three of us have a conversation in elk speak that probably only the elk understood. I checked the time, and despite the fact that I was past the light I would trust myself to take a shot in, I still had another five minutes of legal light. Not that legal and ethical are the same thing. Thus ends our day five of bow season, 2006.
P.S - and as was mentioned in another thread - yeah, for sure, I need a better crossbow! I'm starting too lose track of the critters I haven't killed for not being about to make a 30 to 35 yard shot.
Sept 5, 2006 (evening hunt)
Back at the water hole near the road, The Wife (tm) in the shooting position. Decided to just sit on the ground in the thick weeds and do without the blind, as the blind has seemed to make the critters a little spooky in past nights. Over the course of the night, we were reminded why we like chairs, as sitting there in the weeds perfectly still for 3 hours is very painful. Though, the deer definitely came a lot closer than when we had the blind up.
The evening started with a doe and fawn making their way ever so slowly down the trail. It was fairly early in the evening, and there was plenty of light left; which meant we had to remain perfectly still. We did such a good job of it, that the doe walked up to edge of the water hole about 5 feet from my wife (yes, five feet) and proceeded to have a long, noisy drink. The fawn hung back a little to feed in the clearing, and a spike buck came out and drank from the hole about fifteen yards away at the same time.
We were starting to experience some fairly serious pain from sitting so still in uncomfortable positions, when the doe decided to add insult to injury. Lifting her head from her drink she calmly walked around the stump I was half hidden behind, and walked into my downwind at about eight feet. Too close, even for baking soda clothes and scent-control spray. She stomps and blows for about 5 minutes, while we continue to remain perfectly still in hopes she'll calm down. She does, eventually, and finally here and the fawn leave the area. The spike buck follows a few minutes later.
After all the commotion, nothing much happened until about twenty minutes till the end of shooting light. Just as we were about to give up a bit early and go watch the Canadian Idol results show, a lone cow elk comes down for a drink. We let the evening elk pass last time, but we still haven't found a sweet spot in The Wife's LEH area, and an elk in the freezer is worth two LEH's, so The Wife quietly hands me the crossbow. I bring the bow most of the way up in the rapidly diminishing light, and wait for the elk to get close enough. The elk hangs up perfectly broadside at about 30 yards – too far for my bow. Then, with an almost obnoxious slowness, the elk comes in and starts to drink at a spot on the water hole I know is exactly twenty four yards – one yard within my comfort zone for shooting, and about eighteen minutes of shooting light left.
This is really about to happen I think, as the adrenalin starts to flood my system and my pulse rate heads sharply upwards. I breathe slow and deep to calm down and steady the nerves. I have time to wait, as she's currently quartering to me just a little to much for my comfort. If I hit her perfect at this angle, the arrow will exit about in line with the last rib on the far side; which would certainly get both lungs on the way through – but I don't trust my bow to make a 1-ish inch margin of error at 24 yards; 3 inches, for sure, but not 1-ish.
So I continue my breathing exercises and wait for her to make that last shift in position that will bring her to full on broadside (or close enough that a 3 inch margin for error is acceptable). Minutes keep ticking by until I'm starting to think that this shooting light is getting a bit dim for my taste. I bring the bow all the way up, and judge that I could still make it right that second, but another sixty seconds will be too much. Still quartering to me.
As if on cue, exactly as I lower the bow and surrender, the elk turns full broadside for about five seconds, and then heads back into the bush. Disgruntled, I honk my cow elk call in protest, and the elk barks back at me. My wife takes up the call also, and the three of us have a conversation in elk speak that probably only the elk understood. I checked the time, and despite the fact that I was past the light I would trust myself to take a shot in, I still had another five minutes of legal light. Not that legal and ethical are the same thing. Thus ends our day five of bow season, 2006.
P.S - and as was mentioned in another thread - yeah, for sure, I need a better crossbow! I'm starting too lose track of the critters I haven't killed for not being about to make a 30 to 35 yard shot.