When the alarm pierced the silence at 3:15 am, I instinctively hit the snooze button. If I left my house by 5 am I could be in my stand a full hour before first light. Than it hit me, did I put my clothes in the dryer? I shook off my slumber and stumbled into the basement. Of course not. Now I'm unloading a washer full of wet camo in hopes that it will dry in time. As I am waiting for the clothes to dry, I load up my gear with a pessimistic outlook for the day. I was going to be late, very late. After 45 agonizing minutes I threw on my damp camo and raced for the stand. By the time I got situated the dim light of dawn was upon me with the sun rapidly approaching the horizon. Lucky for me, this is not a great morning spot, but still a gaff that could have unknowingly cost me.
My second misstep was a week in the making. In the previous week I noticed the deer were gravitating more towards the perimeter of the property. I do not think they are educated on my location as much as it is the pre-rut and the deer prefer traveling the tree line more than the brush. I had loaded up a new tree stand and some climbing sticks last Sunday, but for one reason or another they spent the last 6 days in my truck bed. So it was no surprise to me that when the deer began to move, they moved directly along the trail I had intended to be sitting over today.
On a positive note, all was not lost today. I had a new mature buck show his face in daylight for the first time. He is a Big 6 pointer, with one wide sweeping side, and one side that stopped growing out in July. I only have 5 trail cam pictures but I was able to study him for a while at 75 yards. Had I been in the other tree, chances are I would have tagged out on him. I tried a playful rattling and grunting sequence to bring him in, but only a curious 4 pointer answered the call. As I stood up for a better look, I noticed an old adversary to my left. The 9 was back, and looked to be fine. He too wanted to see what the commotion was about. When the young fork came into the clearing, The 9 took one glance at such an over matched opponent and meandered back into the thicket. He had what seemed to be an entrance wound and exit wound on his right side. Since he was quartering towards me when I shot him, the arrow must have deflected off a rib, resulting in a flesh wound with all his vitals untouched. I was happy to see The 9 was alive and well. It just proves how amazingly resilient whitetail deer are. The fork circled my tree for about 15 minutes before he too lost interest and wandered off.
As the day turned into dusk, a doe busted out of the brush being chased by the same fork. A small 6 pointer popped his head out a minute later, followed by the Big 6 to round out the bunch. By the time the sun had set all 4 deer had spent about 15 minutes running up and down the trail that I had anticipated, which left me 80 yards away counting squirrels. Poor preparation, no success.
Fueled by my most recent failure, and the fact that the rut has arrived in Southeastern Pennsylvania, I stepped up my preparation exponentially. On Sunday morning I practiced shooting for 3 hours. I headed over to the wood lot with Mike and we picked out a great tree to finally hang my new stand. Lastly, I washed and dried all my camo so there will be zero excuses this week. The full moon on Tuesday should usher the first does into estrous. I will be in the woods Friday, Saturday, and possibly Tuesday night. This is setting up to be a great week for bow hunting, and with the preparation completed, all I am looking for is the right opportunity.
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