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09/15/2001	Doe	Lancaster, SC	Bow	Morning	15 yards
The 2001 deer season started chilly and windy, and on Opening Day I didn't have much confidence that we would see any deer. My plan was to hunt in the woods bordering Walker Road, which I had watched numerous deer cross last year during rifle season. Any morning that you hunted our box blind on the road you could count on seeing at least one deer, so I figured that my best bet would be to get into the woods that they emerge from and try to get one before he crossed. Ted was hunting about a quarter mile away, in a small flat bordering Cedar Creek. I wasn't in my stand long before, even through the gusting wind, I heard the sound of something walking in the woods behind me. I slowly turned in my stand, and saw a doe emerge from a thick cluster of bushes not 15 yards away. When the deer looked away, I quietly stood and got ready to take a shot if a clear opportunity arose. As I watched the first deer, another doe appeared slightly closer to me, and I turned around in my stand, waiting for the chance to shoot. It occurred to me that the deer was already in an excellent position for a shot, so I drew back on my bowstring, centered the sight on the deer, exhaled, and released. With a loud WHAP! the arrow struck the deer, and it bounded off into the woods where it had come from. I watched carefully, making sure I knew which direction it had gone in. Shaking, I sat back down on my stand and nocked another arrow. Instinct makes you want to get right down and go look for the deer, but when bowhunting, it's best to wait at least a half hour after a shot before coming down. So, I waited for what felt like 30 minutes, then I pulled out my copy of The Silmarillion and read the first fifteen pages, willing more time to pass. As I read, another deer approached slowly, then suddenly snorted and ran off into the woods. I guessed that she had scented the blood from the deer I had shot. Finally, the time came for me to get down. I debated calling Ted on the radio and telling him that I had one hit, but I decided to track it a little ways myself first. If I could find it, I would just take it to the processor myself, without disturbing Ted's hunt. I knelt to the ground and asked a prayer that I would recover this deer, then walked to the tree that the deer had been standing beside when I shot it, and immediately found my arrow stuck in the ground. A single glance told me that I had made a pass-through shot, and that the deer was definitely hit. I made a quick, wide sweep of the area to see if the deer was laying there, and when it wasn't I returned to the arrow and began to look for blood. I soon found the first drop, and immediately marked the spot. Soon I was able to establish a direction by finding more spots, and eventually the blood trail became pretty heavy. The blood was bright red, so I felt pretty good about the shot. I tracked the deer for about 30 minutes, sometimes losing the trail, always finding it again. Suddenly, as I thought I was getting close, a deer jumped up from in front of me and ran off into the woods. I stopped, squatted, and watched where it ran. At that point I decided to call Ted, since it was possible that this was my deer. I radioed him and told him I needed his help. Ted answered that he was on the way, so I stood quietly and waited for him to arrive. As I stood there, I saw a deer cross the trail about 30 yards away, go over to the creek, then cross back to where it had come from. About 20 minutes later, Ted drove up on his four-wheeler, and I told him the situation. I pointed out the last blood spot that I had found, told him to wait there, and I would walk over to where the deer had jumped up from and see if there was a pool of blood there. I found blood immediately, and we began to track the deer, trying again to establish a direction. We lost the trail right away, so I decided that we had better give the deer a little more time so that we wouldn't push it. I suggested that we go back and get my bow, which I had left laying in the woods, and Ted said that maybe we could put all of our gear in the jeep. We did this, then returned to the spot where we had left off tracking. Although we searched for quite awhile, we only found two more tiny drops of blood. We had no luck finding the deer. Ted began to go upward on the hill, not looking for blood now, hoping to find a trail that the deer may have taken. I walked back down to the trail where I had seen a deer cross, hoping to find some tracks there. As I was beginning to lose hope, Ted radioed that he had found the deer. I dashed up the mountain toward him, and there it was, a big doe, lying dead on the ground.

09/15/2001

Doe

Lancaster, SC

Bow

Morning

15 yards

The 2001 deer season started chilly and windy, and on Opening Day I didn't have much confidence that we would see any deer. My plan was to hunt in the woods bordering Walker Road, which I had watched numerous deer cross last year during rifle season. Any morning that you hunted our box blind on the road you could count on seeing at least one deer, so I figured that my best bet would be to get into the woods that they emerge from and try to get one before he crossed. Ted was hunting about a quarter mile away, in a small flat bordering Cedar Creek.

I wasn't in my stand long before, even through the gusting wind, I heard the sound of something walking in the woods behind me. I slowly turned in my stand, and saw a doe emerge from a thick cluster of bushes not 15 yards away. When the deer looked away, I quietly stood and got ready to take a shot if a clear opportunity arose. As I watched the first deer, another doe appeared slightly closer to me, and I turned around in my stand, waiting for the chance to shoot. It occurred to me that the deer was already in an excellent position for a shot, so I drew back on my bowstring, centered the sight on the deer, exhaled, and released. With a loud WHAP! the arrow struck the deer, and it bounded off into the woods where it had come from. I watched carefully, making sure I knew which direction it had gone in.

Shaking, I sat back down on my stand and nocked another arrow. Instinct makes you want to get right down and go look for the deer, but when bowhunting, it's best to wait at least a half hour after a shot before coming down. So, I waited for what felt like 30 minutes, then I pulled out my copy of The Silmarillion and read the first fifteen pages, willing more time to pass. As I read, another deer approached slowly, then suddenly snorted and ran off into the woods. I guessed that she had scented the blood from the deer I had shot.

Finally, the time came for me to get down. I debated calling Ted on the radio and telling him that I had one hit, but I decided to track it a little ways myself first. If I could find it, I would just take it to the processor myself, without disturbing Ted's hunt. I knelt to the ground and asked a prayer that I would recover this deer, then walked to the tree that the deer had been standing beside when I shot it, and immediately found my arrow stuck in the ground. A single glance told me that I had made a pass-through shot, and that the deer was definitely hit. I made a quick, wide sweep of the area to see if the deer was laying there, and when it wasn't I returned to the arrow and began to look for blood. I soon found the first drop, and immediately marked the spot. Soon I was able to establish a direction by finding more spots, and eventually the blood trail became pretty heavy. The blood was bright red, so I felt pretty good about the shot.

I tracked the deer for about 30 minutes, sometimes losing the trail, always finding it again. Suddenly, as I thought I was getting close, a deer jumped up from in front of me and ran off into the woods. I stopped, squatted, and watched where it ran. At that point I decided to call Ted, since it was possible that this was my deer. I radioed him and told him I needed his help. Ted answered that he was on the way, so I stood quietly and waited for him to arrive. As I stood there, I saw a deer cross the trail about 30 yards away, go over to the creek, then cross back to where it had come from.

About 20 minutes later, Ted drove up on his four-wheeler, and I told him the situation. I pointed out the last blood spot that I had found, told him to wait there, and I would walk over to where the deer had jumped up from and see if there was a pool of blood there. I found blood immediately, and we began to track the deer, trying again to establish a direction. We lost the trail right away, so I decided that we had better give the deer a little more time so that we wouldn't push it. I suggested that we go back and get my bow, which I had left laying in the woods, and Ted said that maybe we could put all of our gear in the jeep. We did this, then returned to the spot where we had left off tracking.

Although we searched for quite awhile, we only found two more tiny drops of blood. We had no luck finding the deer. Ted began to go upward on the hill, not looking for blood now, hoping to find a trail that the deer may have taken. I walked back down to the trail where I had seen a deer cross, hoping to find some tracks there. As I was beginning to lose hope, Ted radioed that he had found the deer. I dashed up the mountain toward him, and there it was, a big doe, lying dead on the ground.