Year 12: "The Curse" continues......

Stuck in the middle of my 12th year since I last harvested a buck with my bow, my personal curse continues.  Countless times I've dreamed of the moment I'd walk up on a pile of antlers at the end of a cherry trail.  I can sometimes feel the heaviness of this curse evaporating into thin air as I sink to my knees behind the fallen giant.  I imagine the pain and physical exertion from having to drag him out over fallen trees, through the carpet of leaves on the forest floor, and through deep ravines to my truck.  Then as I hoist him into the bed of the truck I begin burning up the phone lines to show off my trophy..........

Then the scurry of a squirrel below my stand wakes me from my reverie and sets my heart to racing as I think it could be the monster approaching.  On Sunday, November 10th that dream almost became reality.

I was invited to a 300 acre farm in southern Warren County to hunt the epitome of Whitetail Heaven.  It was a "one and done" afternoon hunt.  My friend & guide, Don, set me in a stand, 20 feet up in a Hackberry tree.  I overlooked a 20 acre food plot that already held 2 does as we walked to our stands.  I climbed high, situated all my gear and settled down for what proved to be one of the most exciting hunts I've had in 12 years.

The plot I was hunting over.

It didn't take long for the action to heat up.  A small 8 pointer crashed in behind me, hot on the trail of a doe.  Then a few more does filtered back out into the far side of the plot.  As I watched the feeding does, movement to my right in the big block of timber caught my eye.  I immediately saw a lot of antlers.  The big buck disappeared momentarily as he dipped into a dry creek bed.  He then reappeared in the tall grass between the timber and food plot.  His course of travel was leading him directly at me!  I quick turned on the video camera, pointed it in his direction and readied for what was about to transpire.

Without stopping he walked directly into the plot in front of me.  Walking broadside at 30 yards with nothing but air between us, I drew and anchored at my cheek.  I started to line up the shot and gave him a "grunt" that should have stopped him, but he had other intentions and kept walking.  Again I grunted, louder than the first and again he continued to walk.  Finally a third grunt, louder than the previous two, I should have just shouted "Hey deer, stop!"  He paused, and I touched my release.  The arrow smacked him, but instantly I knew it wasn't good.  I hit him low and back.  In the video that follows you can hear my instant reaction to the misplaced arrow.

My heart and hopes sank 20 feet to the ground.  He ran into the timber and stopped.  I quickly grunted & snort/wheezed a few times, hoping to override his instincts and bring him back.  All that did was garner a few looks and bring a different buck crashing in behind me.  I watched my buck for over a half hour.  He'd walk a few steps and stop, then walk a few steps and stop.  I knew I had to back out and come back in the morning.  I texted Don and told him what happened.  He asked what the buck looked like and after I replied he replied with "The Skanky 8".  It was a known buck, tall tines, narrow spread, and good mass.  He was the mature buck I was looking for.  Here's the video of the buck as he approaches, but I failed to get the actual shot on film.

I backed off for the night and went home.  The next day, my 7th anniversary, we went to look for the buck.  My wife, bless her beautiful heart, was excited to spend the day with me looking for him!  We drove back to the scene and started the track. There was heavy, good blood for the first 150 yards.  Then it disappeared.  We found a drop or two, by pure luck, over the distance of another 1/4 mile or so.  At that point, we turned our tracking into a broad sweeping search that hoped to simply turn up the recovery of the buck.  After most of the day, the snow started to really come down and we called off the search.

It was extremely disappointing to not find this animal.  1, because I'd rather miss than wound an animal; and 2, the buck couldn't have given me a more golden opportunity.  A big thanks to Don for sharing his land and deer with me; and an even bigger thanks to my wife for giving up almost the entire day to help me search.  Moving forward, the daydreams continue, as does the curse.......