Heers wut ya git!

Pull up a seat and read a little. If you are from WV you are probably like me and have never learned to read so get someone to read it to you. I'm Skully, my friend Mike listens to me and translates my words from Hickglish to English. He is familiar with the ways of folks from other areas, and can communicate readily with the general populace.
(Fetch ya a char an lisen ta wuts heer. If’n yer frum West Verginua yu r proly lak me an ain’t had no reedin ejukashun so git sumbudy to reed it to ya. I’m Skully, ma frend Mak lisens ta mee an translates ma werds frum normul to wut them thar hi falootin peepole talks. He nows how to talk to outciders an can speek thar langwige.)

Monday, November 10, 2008

The bow is justified

I finally, after 4 years, have taken a whitetail deer with my compound bow!

It was 5:30AM when I got to the winery, as usual a did a few chores such as putting away the clean bottles from the drying trees and pouring out some of the old wine from the fridge into a glass and making sure it wasn't spoiled. ;)

At about 6:30 I headed out on foot through the north vinyard to the gate that opens to access my property to the east of the vineyard. The temperature was mid fourtyish with a very slight breeze. The trip to the stand would take about thirty to fourty-five minutes; walking very slow with many stops along the way to search the woods for that slight movement that would give away the presence of the quarry.

It was a cloudy morning and the daylight was now fully available without the glare of a clear day. I was about twenty minutes into the trek to the tree stand when two small deer crashed out of the woods to my right; I don't know how I missed seeing them. They both ran across the field that is up the hill above the quarter-acre pond. One went on up the hill into the thick brush but the other stopped to see what I was.

I had my trigger release already on my wrist but was in no way prepared to take a shot.
I gauged the distance at thirty yards and thought "what the hell"; I pulled an arrow from the quiver and knoched it. The deer did not move which tells me that the no-scent, no-phospher laundry deturgent is doing its job nicely. I drew, took quick aim and released the arrow.

At this point in the game there was no adrenal explosion, no rapid heart rate, nothing. I have only taken a shot at a deer with my bow twice before and missed both times; I've drawn on two others but never got a shot. It was as if I was just at the target range, just shooting at the bag target once more.

As the arrow left the bowstring and the arrow rest everything seemed to go into extreme slow motion. I could actually see the fletching spin while the arrow's arc was also very apparent. The arrow hit the deer in the ribs, just behind the shoulder. The audible "crack" of the strike seemed to echo as the 100 grain Muzzy broadhead hit bone.

The deer ran into the treeline and was silent. At this point the excitement and the adreanalin really kicked in but I knew I had to stay still. I waited five minutes and heard leaves and brush crashing and crunching. I slowly walked over and saw the deer on its side just inside the treeline.
It was still breathing and heard my aproach; it got up and stumbled about 15 feet and went down again. I have a rule that if I can get within 10 feet of a wounded animal, I draw whatever pistol I happen to be carrying and put the animal down with a head shot. I think this is of course a humane thing to do but, I also get to see what various types of ammo do in a real situation. This time it was Personal Defense in .380 Auto; the damage was fairly significant and the job was done.

About fifteen minutes later I was dragging the deer down the hill to the gas well road to leave it while I went up to get the truck.

It is amazing and much different from hunting with a rifle. The feeling is indescribable but there are those who already know that. I am both Happy and proud to join the group of those who know this.

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