Wish Me Luck, Please

Well, thanks to all the folks here that sent some good karma my way.

Saturday was my birthday and around lunch time I asked my Dad for a favor. I was hoping he could go glass another spot for me during my evening sit so I could get some intel on where to potentially go for my next sit. Unfortunately, his MS was giving him some problems, and as I was heading to the stand he reluctantly revealed he needed to rest and stay home.

My spot for the night was a tree stand about 70 yards behind my parent’s house. My stand is in this spot to minimize intrusion on the rest of the property, there is a utility corridor for a small clover plot, and because the cul de sac they live on creates a bit of a funnel. The view from my stand looking 90 degrees to my left.
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I got set around 3 pm and the action started about 5:20 when I saw a doe and a fawn behind me at about 60 yards heading down the hill towards me. About two minutes later I see my Dad raise the blind on the patio door off his bedroom. The doe and fawn saw it too so I shot my Dad a text telling him to chill because he was putting the deer on edge. He sat back down and we both watched the deer feeding closer to me.

A little over ten minutes later the doe and fawn are within 10 yards of me browsing away. Unbeknownst to me, about 5 minutes earlier a deer had appeared about 150 yards away on the far end of the plot. My Dad knew because we bought him a Ring camera for gift a few years ago so he can watch the deer and turkeys below the house. So for the last 5 minutes my Dad had been watching the doe and fawn and this other deer close in on my stand.

I heard some noise to my right and shifted my eyes to see a deer approaching at 20 yards. Even though I was looking through thick buckthorn, I knew immediately it was the buck I was looking for.
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The scrape he’s working is about 20 yards from my stand and is visible in the picture above.
 

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He was working slowly from my right to my left. I was ready when he stepped out and made a low bleat sound to stop him in my shooting lane at roughly 17 yards. Unfortunately, as he stopped he took a couple of steps in my direction, and what had been a perfectly broadside shot turned in to a hard quartering to shot. At that point my brain went in to overdrive to assess the situation and work out the geometry of a possible shot.

I was confident in the equipment doing it’s job. I just needed to figure out if I could feel comfortable, knowing my target was so small given I was a bit over 20 feet above him. Obviously I got comfortable and took the shot.

He took off and stopped 75 yards out and then I lost sight of him as he moved off. I assumed he took the path of least resistance down the hill and across the property line in front of him. After 10 minutes I inspected the impact site and then climbed back up in the event he elected to double back during the final 30 minutes of shooting light. I climbed down at dark and started looking for blood but found no blood.
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After some meticulous review of the footage I found a few drops but was very discouraged by what I found. My BIL stopped by a half hour later and took a look - he was more hopeful than not.

I had looked in to trailing dogs several years ago after losing a deer my brother hit. With that thought in the back of my mind and a few hours of feeling like crap, I hopped on the Google machine and found Nate and his dog Kylie. A couple minutes after I texted him he asked if we could chat and he gave me a call. We talked it over and said he be there at 8 am.
 
Tracking dogs are awesome. It’s amazing how they can find one even a couple days later.
Hoping the dog is able to find yours. In my experience the dog won’t even really attempt to follow a trail of a non fatal hit, at least the 2 trailing dogs I had wouldn’t.

Best of luck.
 
My hunch was right and I got 3 or 4 hours of sleep. Nate, his wife, and their dog Kylie arrived a bit early and we got to the impact site at about 7:45. After a quick review we were off. In the mean time, I asked my Dad to go watch the road/property line several hundred yards to the south in case we pushed my buck or any other deer out in what could amount to a deer drive.


At the top of the hill, about where I had last seen the buck, I got a bit concerned. The dog didn’t want to continue in the direction of travel and took a 90 degree left turn. I found out why in about 25 yards, as there was some decent blood.
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The deer did something I hadn’t expected and the dog was all over it. Things were looking good. Over the next 45 minutes we covered almost 700 yards. In that stretch we found very little blood and no bed.

Kylie then took us across a creek and we found some blood. A short while later the dog was indicating that the deer had likely crossed the road. Luckily my Dad went to elementary school with the owner over 60 years ago. My Dad was waiting there with the truck so over my Dad and I went to try and get permission in hopes that we could continue the track. Unfortunately, the owner wasn’t home. So we went back to break the news.

Nate and I discussed the situation: the distance we had covered, no bed, not a lot of blood and wondered if maybe there was a deflection or I just flat out shanked the shot. I figured we were about done and the deer was lost. Right about then Nate’s wife found some more blood, and then a bed without much blood in it. We moved over towards her and while they were looking at that area I found some more blood. Nate’s wife leap frogged ahead of me and found a bit more. Kylie came in behind us and quickly passed us by. Then we found a bit more blood a bit further up.

We now had a line of travel. I asked Nate if we should stop at this point to try and find a hoof print to determine a direction of travel. He said he didn’t think it was necessary because Kylie pretty much always tracked in the direction the deer was moving. That gave me some hope, as Kylie was indicating the deer had doubled back and was heading back towards his bedding area. At that point Nate’s wife and I could start blood trailing the deer. We were working slowly along when her phone rang . . . she answered and looked at me and said “we got him.” I said said “no” and took off. And a bit further up the trail . . .
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I can’t describe the level of elation, relief, thankfulness, and peace I felt at that point. I’m sure many of you have been there and you know. I immediately sent a text out to my Dad and brothers and gave my wife a call - she happy for me and thrilled at the prospect of a $700 taxidermy bill. Handshakes, thank yous, congratulations, and photos ensued.

What happened? A fat buck and a less than optimal shot angle happened.
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As you can see from the photo, the exit hole was stuffed with a big chunk of fat. Hence the lack of blood trail and the ensuing uncertainty regarding shot placement. I don’t have an entrance hole photo, but it was just left of the near side leg about 2/3 of the way up from the belly. The broadhead took out a lung, nicked the heart, and exited through the liver and stomach.

I wouldn’t have believed it if I hadn’t seen it. The distance he covered being as busted up as he was - crazy.
 
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I can’t describe the level of elation, relief, thankfulness, and peace I felt at that point. I’m sure many of you have been there and you know. I immediately sent a text out to my Dad and brothers and gave my wife a call - she happy for me and thrilled at the prospect of a $700 taxidermy bill. Handshakes, thank yous, congratulations, and photos ensued.
Happy story, thanks for sharing.
 
Thanks for following up and congrats on the buck. He’s a good one. I always enjoy hearing the tracking stories when it involves a dog. What breed was it?
 
So let’s wrap this up with why this was so special other than a nice buck found. As I mentioned earlier, my Dad wasn’t feeling well on the night of the hunt. Rather than glassing from his truck, he was sitting on his bed. I had asked him earlier if he’d like me to set him up with the crossbow and a tripod under his deck as he could have a good shot at a nice buck from relative comfort. He declined, and unfortunately, it was in a way that gave me the impression that it wasn’t a no for now, but an “I can’t do it anymore type of no.” My Mom confirmed my suspicion later. Its a tough pill to swallow hearing he’s being forced to give up to a certain extent. I’ve tried awful hard to keep him afield and it’s difficult knowing there’s nothing more I can do.

My Dad had a front row seat for this hunt. He watched the buck step on the plot and slowly close the distance on my stand via his Ring camera. He was sitting about 65 yards away watching out his patio door and could see the buck close the last 10-15 yards with his own eyes. As all this was playing out, I was glad I had remembered to put my phone on silent, as it was vibrating off the hook - my Dad kept texting SHOOT! He saw the shot and he saw the buck take off.

My BIL showed up the next morning and was nice enough to haul his quad. I didn’t ask, he just loaded up and hit the road. He was able to get my Dad on the machine and drive him within about 60 yards of the buck.
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So my Dad got to tell three of his 40ish year old sons and my buddy how to get this buck across a creek and on to the ATV. I think he enjoyed the fact that on occasion the front wheels of the machine didn’t touch the ground because of the weight in the back.

Now we get hear all about how he grows such great big bucks. He had a front row seat for the show, got to participate in the recovery, and was as much apart of the hunt as he could have been without sitting in the stand. With his time getting more limited I’m glad things worked out the way they did. That will always be the most memorable part of this hunt.


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