The following are the details of my very first independent deer hunting experience.
This Saturday was the first time the landowners permitted me to go hunting without my father on their property. I packed up my old Camry with the essentials - camo, knife, rope, headlamp, flashlight, crossbow, arrows, apples, and corn. The plan was to go sit in the stand for a few hours, and have some quiet time alone in the woods. Legal shooting light ended at 18:36, so I told my lady I'd be home by 20:00 so we could have a night on the town, and off I went.
When I neared the hunting property, there were eight to ten trucks parked on the side of the road by the neighbours place. I didn't think much of it, and went on my way to the stomping grounds. I set out some apples and corn 20 yards in front of the stand and climbed on up. I was all set by 16:15. A solid two hours before 18:36.
I found a comfortable position, made sure I had room to lift my bow, and relaxed. That's when the gunshots began. Not one or two shots; not five or ten - hundreds. This went on for about an hour - maybe two or three shots a minute for an hour. The shots sounded like they were a couple hundred yards away, and I thought the neighbours must have been having some sort of shooting contest. Then the shots got closer. Maybe 50 to 100 yards away - I could hear the sharp crack of close shots rather than the muffled bang of more distant shots.
I should mention that gun season doesn't start where I hunt until November, and there is no water or overhead migratory birds within range. If someone was hunting they were both trespassing and shooting out of season. I had a decision to make. Should I get out of the stand, wearing full camo, and confront the easy-trigger trespassers deep in the forest? Or should I sit tight and inform the landowner at a later date? I went with option B.
Around 18:00, with the light beginning to fade, the neighbours must have run out of ammunition. Silence fell. Within five minutes I heard crashing in the woods at my 12-o'clock. This was no squirrel; this was something big. I slowly eased back into the shadows of my stand and waited, hardly breathing.
BANG! A single shot rang out at my 12-o'clock. Did someone just shoot a deer with a gun during crossbow season? While trespassing? Within 100 yards of me? Or did the shooter make the crashing noises I heard? My questions went unanswered, and once again I was not in a position to get out of the stand and investigate - especially with the light fading fast.
I figured I'd wait it out and sit until 18:36. The forest was silent again. 18:15. No noise, no birds, no clouds. 18:20. Movement at my 10-o'clock. I moved my eyes without turning my head and there was a doe 100 yards away, looking right at me. 18:23, the doe starts walking towards my apples and corn. 18:24, a second smaller doe follows the first, and stops fifteen feet to the left of the first. 18:25, the doe on the right gives me a perfect broadside shot and I lift my bow. 18:26, I aim and release. The doe to the right took off to my 1-o'clock; the doe to the left fell to the ground, rolled, got up and ran, stumbling, after the first.
What the hell just happened? I aimed at the doe to the right, but the doe to the left fell over and struggled. I waited five minutes (I know, not the standard half hour) and got out of the stand. I went to the car and got a headlamp and flashlight, and looked for the blood trail.
Nothing. I went into the woods where I saw the two does enter the brush. Still nothing. I walked straight through the woods for about 40 yards before I found my doe. It was big - 150 to 160 pounds. Double lung shot. After finding my deer, I easily located the blood trail. I think I need to work on that...
It was at this exact moment, standing alone in the woods in the dark with a dead deer, that the local coyotes began to yelp and howl. Ok, I thought, no problem - get the deer out of the woods, field dress the deer, get the deer to the butcher. So how do you drag a deer? I don't know. I was about 150 yards from the car, through the woods. I grabbed the deers back legs and began to pull. And pull. And pull. Half an hour later, half way there - How the hell do old guys do this? The coyotes were close now - I left the deer and got my knife from the car. I figured I'd be fine if any coyotes got aggressive - I could leave the deer as an easy meal and get away. Either way, I'd rather have the knife than not have it. Back to the deer - lift the deer over a fallen tree - pull the deer under a fallen tree - move a fallen tree to make room for the deer... The next day I was informed that pulling a deer by its back legs is inefficient, and you should always pull from the front.
So, 20:00. It was very dark out, but I finally got the deer to my car. Standing over a deer with a knife, I realized I should have paid attention the multiple times my old man showed me what to do. No matter though - I brought a printed diagram on how to field dress a deer (also courtesy of my father).
Right. 21:00. Field dressed my first deer all by myself! I did a pretty good job - I was proud! It was time to put the deer in the trunk and get the hell out of there.
So the next problem - I drive an old Camry. How do you put a deer in a Camry? Well... You wrap it in a tarp, and put the tarp in the trunk. I didn't bring a tarp.
I called my Dad. I shot a deer, pulled it out of the woods, and dressed it, but I couldn't get the damn thing out of there without a tarp.
22:50 - My old man arrived with a tarp and we got out of there.
23:45 - I arrived home. I stumbled through the door, covered in blood and exhausted, to the tune of an angry woman. A woman who had been ready and waiting for a night on the town for four hours, whilst I was dragging an animal through the forest in the dark.
Saturday night was a night full of lessons, which I will henceforth carry with me. I hope you enjoyed my experience.
May your knives be sharp and your boots be dry,
Broadside.
Edit:
Here it is!!
This was about three hours after I shot the deer, so it's head wouldn't bend for the picture...
