The week often proves to be both frustrating and exciting. This year was no different. We battled high winds, blowing seemingly in every direction at the same time. The prevailing winds had left us. Rain fell, sometimes sideways. The temperatures rose. The moon shone brightly.
My week was proving to be particularly frustrating. Only twice, prior to Sunday, seeing any deer while on stand, well beyond shooting range.
However a couple times I did hear deer, and was comforted by the knowledge that I had at least picked locations that had potential.
One morning I had just finished a rattling sequence when I heard a deer coming my way. As I prepared for the incoming deer I was startled by a single shotgun blast from behind me. Less than a hundred yards away. I was suspicious that someone had just poached a deer, or at least attempted to. Ecoaster heard the blast as well and thought it unusual.
There was another almost encounter. I went into the marathon stand. Just at legal light I heard a deer approach, unfortunately from behind. I managed to contort my body so I could shoot when the deer walked into the only opening two yards away. At about five yards the deer stopped and jumped back about five yards. My back threatened to seize as I held my position waiting for the unseen deer (very thick bush). He raked his antlers on a tree then walked off.
So that brings me to the final morning of my hunt. I returned to the area where the shotgun blast spoiled the morning. I was in the stand nice and early, and was hungry to put a deer in the freezer. The day started slow, with no action until about 9am. I then heard a deer coming from the west, I readied myself. I could see it was a fork-horn. I would take him if the shot presented itself. He walked through five windows, each one having an obstacle. The sixth window was wide open, and of course right on the trail I had taken in. He stopped with his vitals behind a tree. Then walked off, heading south.
About an hour later I heard a deer running in my direction then slow to a walk. It was a doe coming in from the south. I could tell she was being pushed by a buck, most likely the fork-horn who just went that way. If it wasn’t for the fact she was going to be downwind of me I would have let her walk and wait for her pursuer. I stopped her just before she got downwind of me and took advantage of the Excailburs accuracy, releasing an arrow through a small window. Perhaps too small. I could see the blaze orange fletching in flight, and watched the arrow dive and bury itself under the doe. My first clean miss.
Or was it?
She ran off with her tail tucked. I heard her run a short distance, then stop before moving off 15 minutes later. I was able to see the butt end of the arrow with my binoculars. I would check it out when I got down to leave. About an hour later and after replaying the events I looked at the arrow, though the binoculars again, buried in the ground. The blaze orange was not as bright as it should be. But I had heard the doe walk off, and had seen the arrow hit underneath her.
I figured I had better check it out.
When I got to the arrow, my suspicions were confirmed, a pass through. I started my search. There was not much of a blood trail. Water has a way of hiding this important sign. But it was there if the time was taken to look for it. About fifty yards into my trailing efforts I look in the direction I figure she was headed and see her white belly. My clean miss turned out to be a perfect double lung shot. She only went sixty yards.
The “deflection” was caused by the deer. The arrow zipped through her so fast, then dove to the ground behind her creating the illusion of a deflection and a miss.
She won’t make it into the record books, but she is a well-earned trophy in my books.
The blazin tiger arrow, showing the dulled colour.
The tired, and happy hunter.
My ATV. It sure saves the back!!
Celebrating the harvest with a "Bloodtrail Ale"
Sumner: Muzzy 125 grain, three blade broadhead. 60 yard recovery.
. Too bad I wasen't able to give you a hand, or a 450cc Suzuki to help with the drag. I think you're right, we are each others bad luck charms. Every time one of us has a commitment we can't get out of the other guy in the field nails a deer 
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