These posts will chronicle my journey as a fatally nostalgic masochist. I am continually drawn to the "old ways" and history, methods, and means of the low technology past.
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Monday, January 23, 2012
The second snowy freezing rain hunt - Sat. 012112
The weather forecast Friday afternoon was for snow turning to freezing rain, then all rain into the afternoon Saturday. Friday was bright and clear and I was bummed out that I did not decide to hunt this day instead of Sat. The weather seemed perfect with the impending front to have deer on the move. It always seems like I make things harder on myself, but I was determined to hunt the wet Saturday morning.
Brent could not hunt because of family obligations, so I had Mike along to take his spot at the private farm. No one else hunted this late in the season to care. I would repeat the hunt we performed last Sat. with both of us on the ground sitting for a few hours, and then trying to push deer off the mountain toward each other about mid-morning.
We sipped coffee and watched the freezing rain pelt the truck windshield as we pulled into the parking area. After a few minutes of chit chat, the dawn started to break, and the precipitation slowed to a stop! It was perfect timing. I went back towards my rocky ridge in the laurel patch chasing two deer against the snowy backdrop as we entered the woodline in the gently increasing light. It was very loud to walk on the crust of ice and snow, so it was unfortunate we pushed that group, but unavoidable. They were posted about halfway up the hill between the upper trail and Brent’s stand. Had they been higher and if it was not so noisy to walk, we may have been in place without their noticing. Oh well, it was good to see deer regardless.
After about 20 minutes of being set up on my stool nestled against the trunk of a large chestnut oak, I can see deer moving clear of the peninsula through the dense laurels. There was a significant browse level to the foliage and sitting low on my stool offered the longest viewing distance from the ground. Still the area was dense. I remained stone still and could see at least 3 deer were sporting headgear of various types, but none seemed very large. Probably the largest was a basket 6 that I could see. I lost count at around 15 deer in the group as they passed a, open window. They seemed to be moving by me at about 60-70 yards down the valley feeding as they meandered. For a few minutes I thought I would be typically about 30 yards too far away and just have a good show. I watched as several times deer got on two legs to reach higher up in the laurel canopy and intermittently shake off the snow/ice from their coats, flashing the white of their underbellies and neck patches in the process.
Then a small group split off and started to feed up the ridge crest toward me. There was a significantly bigger doe in the lead of a group of about 5 antlerless deer of various ages. She was moving on a line that would take her into bow range to my uphill side. As they moved cautiously, I eased around a few inches in my stool to prepare for that open window in the brush to my left. She continued on. I started easing back the bowstring, hoping the larger part of the group off to my right did not catch the bow movement as they milled about. When she passed the tightly choked brush and her head went behind a trunk, I came to full draw successfully. She stepped into the clear and I focused hard on a spot behind her front leg that was a little darker than the rest of the coat. It was about the size of a baseball. She was between 20-25 yards away. I followed through and released.
The bow jumped oddly in my hand and I watched as the yellow crowned and fletched shaft soared about 3 feet high and rearward. I was shocked at how far I missed based upon how hard I thought I had concentrated. The entire woods seemed to explode with deer running. I reached down quickly and picked up another arrow I had positioned at my feet, and as quickly as I could froze again. Since the two groups split if different directions, I thought there might be a chance they would come back in range again. I was not sure if any of them actually saw me. What did I have to lose.
After about 10 minutes of stillness, I saw a deer head bobbing through the brush slowly and cautiously. It was sniffing up and down and trying to see anything that might be danger. It was the lead deer of a group of 6. It was not one of the largest deer, but had a severe limp in its right front leg. It was the “point” man in this file as it was, no doubt, the most cautious having been injured. It slowly led the group closer following the same general direction as the group I had just flung an arrow at. I was hoping it would end up in the same spot also, for a rare second chance shot.
However, this group was trying to catch the other group who was undoubtedly father up the mountain on the other side of the ridge. Their route therefore was a bit farther away. They passed in front of me at about 60 yards, and for a second, I toyed with the idea of making a long shot if one stopped in the clear at that distance. But they passed over the ridge edge so only the neck and half of the back was exposed. I was not proficient or confident enough to make that shot yet. I guess I could have stood up, but the likelihood of the thick brush blocking my view was also great. So I just watched them pass. They had no idea I was there.
After an hour and a half of looking, I never did find my arrow no doubt buried in the snow somewhere over the small ridge. I will have to go back after the snow melt and look for it. I know I missed cleanly. I recreated my shot and realized my mistake. Shooting the longbow uphill from a seated position allowed my lower limb to strike the ground in the last few inches of limb travel. I was not familiar enough with the length of the longbow compared to my short recurve. Each time recreated the shot; my lower limb tip hit the ground. No wonder the bow seemed to jump oddly! H well, lesson learned. At least I concentrated and picked a spot well. No one said this stuff was easy!
Meanwhile, Mike did not see too much in the way of deer, but did see a giant fox squirrel. He got up and walked a bit getting to know the thick multiflora area around Brent’s stand tree. He agreed that was a good spot. I continued my push toward him and we eventually linked up after I caught the sound and flickering intermittent sight of a couple deer on the crest of the hill about 250 yards above us in high gear. Then, we heard the sounds of female hikers on the nearby Gambrill trail. No doubt they were pushed by the shrill conversations and raging twig snapping of the hiker’s heavy footfalls. It always amazes me how loudly non-hunters blunder through the woods and then wonder why they do not see a lot of animals.
We shot a few stumps and checked out the lower end of the property for sign on the way out of the woods. As I suspected there was little. The adjacent mountainside was beautiful with a frosted coating of powdered sugar on the trees. I lost a second judo arrow in the meadow on the way out. Just another arrow to look for once the snow melts. At least I will have an excuse to come back out there and look for my two shafts.
It was a great day to hunt and we saw no other hunters. We had the entire woods to ourselves. I do not regret passing up that Friday one bit now. You never know how things will unfold in the woods.
update:
I found my arrow(s) on Wednesday. Stuck in a log just under the snow. I probably walked over it a few times!
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