Saturday's Dilemma

Saturday morning’s hunt tested my ethical boundaries. I had spent an enjoyable morning sitting on the ground up against a thick tangle of rose and vines hoping the numerous does I saw in our headlights on the drive up to the parking area would filter up through the stand and momentarily feed on under some white oaks I was over watching. Nothing ever presented and I figured I would stretch my legs by around 9:30 and set up on the other side of the Hill trying to intercept a deer that Mike may push as he made his way out of the woods toward me from the back of the property.

By 10:30 I was set up all cozy against a root ball 15 yards uphill from a deer trail when Mike informed me via text message he was already past me and at the truck.

I remembered that spot for another morning, and started my slow walk out of the woods.

I was quietly walking slowly down the deer trail towards the main access trail when I caught movement out of the corner of my eye. A doe was bedded down only about 27 yards downhill of the access trail and she had her head low to the ground and ears splayed out. Our eyes met and I knew we had both made each other out. The sly old gals was trying to “lie low” and just allow me to walk on by. I edged ahead until a tree was between her head and me. Now what?! I moved forward as far as my cover would allow and she remained laying there. I was now on the main access trail and 20 yards from a bedded doe with her head toward me. I look at her with my binos and am severely tempted to shoot her lying down. I know I could hit her, but her head and neck were facing me, her spine ran along my uphill side and her legs were tucked under. I pictured what her vitals looked like that way. My only chance was a neck shot, or a spine hit, or somehow trying to miss the shoulder blade that I was sure was blocking most of her lung area.

I quickly dismissed that notion as I thought of the likelihood of a bad hit, poor blood trail from an arrow out of her back and possibly no 2^nd hole, and tried to think of a way to get her up.

Could I move closer? No deal…no more cover and she was staring me down like a Asiatic water buffalo.

I knew she had seen me. I grabbed a short section of branch that was nearby and decided to try to throw it behind her and get her to get up and look there. I chucked the branch…. it hit the leaves….she turned and looked….but stayed down. Well that didn’t work.

I sat there for several more minutes trying to think of more options. Should I try to wait her out? No, she knows I am here…I’ll be here all afternoon waiting…

Finally, I had a plan. The plan I should have done all along. I decided to get up and casually turn and walk away without looking at her. After I make the edge of the filed I can come back up the middle trail from behind her and try another stalk as the wind was conducive. I simply got up turned and walked out.

When I finally crept back up there she was long gone… I never heard her leave when I was walking out.

If I could do it again, I would have just acted like I didn’t see her from the get go and she might have hung around thinking she had me outwitted.

My wife asked me why I didn’t just shoot it…..though the thought had crossed my mind. I just didn’t want to take that chance. Perhaps I will cross paths with her again someday in better circumstances for me.

Brent Becomes an Archery Hunter

I first met Brent in the mid nineties as we were both serving in the National Guard together.  He was brought up in the "hunting camp" culture of Eastern Pennsylvania and has only ever hunted with firearms.  I convinced Brent to become a two season hunter and got him permission to hunt on a small farm in Maryland where he learned to get close and hunt deer with his compound bow.  Brent started to become proficient with his new weapon system and was able to harvest a few deer a year with me.  At about this time I was transitioning to shooting the traditional bow.  At first he could not understand why I would put myself at such a disadvantage when I was so proficient at killing with the compound (this was exactly why I was doing it by the way), but he finally accepted my new obsession.  I never pushed him to traditional.  Instead he saw how much fun I was having shooting targets and stumps whenever we were together.  One day he asked me if I would sell him one of my bows.  I had purchased a Ben Pearson Cougar recurve off an auction site that was badly in need of refinishing.  I bought the bow for $50 and sold it to Brent for $60 after putting a nice restoration finish on her.  Interestingly enough, he said his father had hunted in PA a long time ago with the same model Ben Pearson.  The bow was perfect for him as it was 45#@28 inches and a good weight to learn as well as hunt some day.  After a few years of practice he started to hunt with it during the late season after he had already collected a few deer with the compound and gun.  I can still remember his excitement when he told me of a miss he made on a doe as he was sitting in some deadfall.  I knew he would continue to hunt with it.

This year approached quickly, and the day before the opening Saturday Brent asked me if he should hunt with the recurve or bring the compound.  I told him that this time of the year was much easier to get close to game with all the foliage still on the trees.  I said he should hunt early with the recurve and once the leaves fell he could use the mechanical shooter for more distance capability if he wished.  Sounded reasonable to him. 

So Saturday morning had us parked at the hunting area once again.  As we parted I wished him good luck and he made his way up the meadow to his favorite treestand.  I began a slow stalk up toward him, hoping if I pushed a deer it might travel under his stand.

I was hunting this year without any commercial camo and I wanted to stalk up on a deer from the ground just like Howard Hill used to do.  I was decked out in plaid, wool LL Bean pants, and my favorite broken in hat and Bean boots.

I slowly picked my way along as the wind was quartering toward me.  Suddenly I heard leaves rustling nearby....maybe 30 yards or so in back of this very thick vine covered and rose choked cluster.  I thought that the sounds were too "heavy sounding" to be a squirrel....maybe a turkey or a deer.  I moved like a bobcat on the stalk...slowly placing the ball of my foot on the ground and inching as slow as possible toward the intermittent rustling.  As I cut the distance in half I could start to near acorns crunching and breathing sounds.....a leaf would move here or there but I just could not make anything out through the thicket.  The deer was close now...and I was sure it was a deer....within 12 yards or so.  I moved my head ever so slightly to get around an overhanging branch when I heard the snort.  the game was over!  After a couple blows and me frozen in time, I could hear heavy footfalls as the deer bounded away.  I never even got to see it, but I knew I was in its "personal space".  It felt good!

I guess I should have waited to move until I heard the leaves again.....Oh well. Another lesson.

I progressed up the hill and after another hour and a half, I crested a small gully and spotted movement ahead of me.  At about 30 yards a doe was making her way right toward me!  I tried to get in a position to shoot as she had her head down and then everyone froze......she knew something was up.....but how?  Did she see me.... We played the waiting game and she slowly started to flick her tail...Ah, there might be another nearby.  just as this thought crossed my mind, another deer started to snort off in the thick brush.  It snorted for about 5 minutes and I figured this stalk was about over too.  The doe had moved slightly and was behind a tree trunk so I slowly sunk down to my knees and knelt.  Perhaps I can wait them out. 

I knelt for about 10 minutes when out of the corner of my left eye I spotted movement only about 25 yards away.  I looked left and was amazed a deer had come from quartering behind me and was now broadside and traveling up a trail that would have it cresting the little gully berm I was sitting on.  She was walking at a steady pace and I started to worry she would continue over the gully out of sight.  My mistake was to try to get her attention and stop her.  I hissed slightly and she stopped an looked at me as I was simultaneously drawing and coming to anchor. 

The Schulz hunter head tipped arrow was away and I could see it travel low under her and she exploded out of there with dirt flying!

 

 

I made two mistakes.  I missed low....and I should have just let her keep walking and shot.  She had no idea I was there and I risked her jumping the string.  She didn't jump the string but I think that had more to do with the quietness of the longbow and the distance.

I tried to let things quiet down and reflected on such great hunt thus far, when I received a text from Brent.  "I think I just got a buck".  I tried to call but got no answer.  I started toward his stand at the top of the hill. 

As I came near his stand he was already on the ground and hollering for me that he had one down.  As I approached I crossed a blood trail and blind man could find! 

 

 

Brent was all grins and in front of him lay his prize.

 

 

What a great day!  We took time to snap some pictures, give thanks, and recreate the shot.  Brent was using a razorhead with the bleeders and that head did the job.  He hit the spike a little in front of the front shoulder but caught enough to get both lungs and a pass through. 

 

Congratulations Brent.  You are finally a real bowhunter!

 

 

 

It felt fantastic to have helped him attain this achievement.  It was a day to remember.

Goose'n The Longbow

Here in Maryland the season started Monday with squirrel, dove, and resident goose.

My brother and I try to get out and goose hunt this week before deer (and usually a western elk trip) to have a little fun body booting for geese on the Susquehanna flats. The weather and water is warm this time of year so wading without fear of hypothermia is a bonus! The last several years I have been trying to do it with the bow.

Mike Mongelli and I were hunting today with our Howard Hill longbows, and my brother and friend Tom were backing us up with the shotguns. We would have first crack at any birds that entered into range. They would mop up afterwards and assist if we had an arrowed bird that would not go down or wanted to swim off.

We got out and set up the decoys before shooting light...but we had to get up at 230 and drive 2 hours to get there to do it.

Once the dekes were in the water my brother anchored the boat near an island about 1/4 mile away and started the long wade back to the set.

All ready as the day began! ......and we soon heard honks in the distance........

 

Lots of action the water at this hour. There were several eagles and osprey all around as well as gulls, ducks (mallard and bufflehead), and a ton of comoranths to scare us every now and then. These invasive fish eaters can look an aweful lot like a goose sometimes.

It was quite a show and worth the lack of sleep even without the geese thus far....what a sunrise!

 

The group approached heading right for Mike.





Hearts pounding as Tom's calls from behind and the geese honking from in front started to reach the same volume and wing beats could be heard. At the last second they veered off to our right and passed out of range of our bows as we tracked them. we saw Chris shoulder and briefly fumble with his safety as he regained his composure and dusted the goose as it passed just on the edge of his effective range. The sharp sounding shot was heard...then a second after a deep boom as the sound waves bounced off the treeline on land and echoed back across the water. Great shot!

We had our first bird.

Soon after we retrieved that goose more were heard approaching. Tom and Chris started calling and here they come!

This time there were several small groups of 2 and 4. One group was passing similar to the first our of range to the right, one group was coming out of range to the left...but the middle three were coming right for us!


These were going to pass just off my port bow and I hunched up in the shadow of the box ready to draw. I picked out the closest bird and drew as it appeared and the arrow was on its way! I heard something odd and saw my arrow waggle oddly as it sailed a bit high and behind the bird. Dang, the lower limb hit the water....doh!...I was prepared to cant in order to clear the surface but as I followed the bird across the angle was too acute.

I never saw Mike's arrow as thunder erupted behind me as I struggled to get another arrow on the string and another bird was tumbling down to the surface from the shotgun blasts. Tom scored us more meat.

As it turned out, Mike was too busy watching the action as I shot and never cut loose his arrow.

Later my brother commented on how cool it looked from behind to watch my white arrow streak up into the flock as they past.

So it went for the next hour or so. Most of the small flocks would come in out bow range and the gunners would get some shots.

What a show it was just to be there and have an opportunity or two.

Our best shot opportunity came as the morning wore on. A loner came in from the side and was heading a little high but straight toward both Mike and I. I watched as Mike's arrow soared up and across the goose who waggled slightly in the air as the shaft passed by.....I had the bow really canted at this point and tried to pick a spot. As I released I felt the string hit my water logged and sagging shirt at the bicep (it was hanging low heavy with water)....dang! The gunners opened up but no hits this time.

I waded out to retrieve our arrows, picked up one, and I heard the guys say here it comes again! The goose circled back despite being shot at and it was going to pass right above me. I had no cover so I hunkered down in the water with just my head and my bow horizontal above the surface. This time I knew I would not screw up the shot. I saw the bird accelerate a little as Mike's arrows passed it again, but that was unknown to me as I was dead focused on good form this time and tracking the bird. The arrow was away and passed inches in front of the goose. It was our closest one yet and I could hear my brother OOOOOOOWH just before the guns opened up again. Bird number 3 was down and Mike and I had grins from ear to ear!

 

We ended up the day with Mike having 3 shots, I had 4 shots, and 3 dead geese by the shotgun. We both struggled at times to keep the longbow tips clear of the water on some of those opportunities and had some good practice at how to prevent it in the future. Man did we have some fun.

There were no other hunters out there that we saw.....I would bet we were the only bow hunters....and I know we had the most fun!