09/17/2007	Doe	Liberty Hill, SC	Remington 7mm mag	8:00pm	50 yards
Ted and I took off this afternoon for our first hunt of the year together.  With my truck stuck in the shop with a busted transmission, we'd be using Ted's Jeep today.  We left Clover at about 4:00pm, and were down at the lease and ready to hunt by a little after 5:00.  I had gone back and forth about where I wanted to hunt.  I was pretty much waffling between hunting at stand #9 again or going over to #1 for the evening.  I finally decided to give #9 another try, while sending Ted to the salt lick stand a quarter mile down the road. It was a pleasant enough evening, with temperatures staying quite comfortable and breezy.  I kept thinking all afternoon that a deer would show up, but as the sun fell from the sky I had still seen nothing.  Darkness was coming on quickly, so I finally decided that it was time to come on down from the stand.  I picked up my radio to call Ted when I happened to notice movement off to my right. I looked up and saw a deer standing in the logging road, looking toward my corn.  I got my binoculars up and focused on the animal, but it was so dark that even at less than 50 yards away I couldn't really tell from the head whether or not it was a doe.  I watched carefully, trying to read the animal's body language.  As it crossed the road and headed into the corn, I could tell from the way it was acting that it was indeed a doe: just what I was after. The body size looked good, and I decided I would shoot if an opportunity arose.  I traded my binoculars for my rifle and got in position to make the shot.  It was really getting dark now, and it took me a minute to find the deer in the scope.  When I found her, her tail was toward me.  I watched and waited, but she rarely stood still and never gave me a broadside look at her.  Finally, with her rump still facing my way, she turned slightly and offered me a quartering-away shot.  I squeezed the trigger.  When I recovered from the recoil, the deer was gone.  I quickly stuffed all of my gear into my backpack and lowered it to the ground.  Climbing quickly down from the tree, I picked up my pack and jogged over to where the deer had been standing when I took the shot.  Using a flashlight I had borrowed from Ted, I immediately found good red blood in the corn.  I tried to call Ted on the radio to tell him that I was on a blood trail, but received only static in response.  I leaned my rifle against a tree and got my trail marking tape out of my pack.  I also grabbed my pistol and attached the holster to my belt, in case the deer was still alive when I found it.  The trail was fairly easy to follow, at least at first.  I got about 40 yards into the woods and had momentarily lost the trail when Ted showed up.  After he had walked down to where I was I picked up the trail again and showed him where it headed. Ted raised his light, then said "oh, there's the deer."  It was laying at the bottom of the hill, stone dead.  Ted walked back up to the truck to get his deer drag, and together we pulled the animal up the hill.  "We're getting too old for this," I told Ted as we struggled our way up the slope.  "Next time we shoot a deer, let's make sure he doesn't go down hill."