First Buck - New Archer - Proud Dad
The rain was light but consistent. Perched atop my 50 year old tripod, I was shielded from the elements by only the fleece jacket, pants, and cap I wore for the morning's hunt. The breeze gusted ever so slightly out of the south-southwest as I watched a 3-1/2 year eight point buck half-heartedly attempt to make a scrape, chewing and licking a branch above his head, pawing the ground, and then urinating down his back legs. Because the sun had yet to rise, my camera could barely focus on an image of the deer as I tried to capture the moment.
My son, a freshman in college, has hunted with with me ever since he could sit still for five minutes. It was only this past fall that he showed more than a passing interest in bow hunting. He's mentioned it before, talked about it sporadically, and was even given a bow as a birthday present when he turned 13. He was heavily involved in sports programs through middle school and high school, as well as band and teaching himself how to play multiple instruments. Suffice it to say, the bow fell to the wayside. He did, however, maintain a heart and passion for the outdoors, fishing and hunting.
Fast forward to the fall of this year. Ready for the challenge, Jackson asked me to help him get into archery. I obliged, pulling out one of my older, favorite bows. I ordered new strings and hardware, set it up and tuned it all within the matter of about a week. While getting the bow set up, I taught my son the proper technique in pulling his bow back and how he should anchor. He took to it very quickly! After moving to College Station for his first semester, I set him up with a semester pass at a local archery shop and range. He began shooting immediately.
The rain began to let up as the sun broke through the cloud cover for a brief moment just after 8:00 am Sunday morning. Watching several doe and a few tom turkey, I turned my attention to the texts I was receiving. Jackson was sitting in a pop-up blind I put into place just a few days before Thanksgiving. He was dry and warm. The cell phone signal is iffy, at best, at the High Line pop-up, but his texts to me came through effortlessly. He said, "Big 10 is here" and "What do you think I should do" and after verifying which deer, I gave him the green light.
Jackson was also watching several tom turkey strut, cluck, and peck in and around the corn piles we had placed out in the pre-dawn hours. The buck, he reported, looked and acted very skittish around the birds. If you've ever watched the turkey swarm in and suck up every kernel of corn like a giant vacuum, you know how nerve racking that can be! With the deer distracted, Jackson drew back his 3-blade Rage tip arrow and sent it 18 yards to his quarry. Excitedly, he texted that the shot looked and felt good. My heart was pumping full volume! I told him to hang tight and I would meet him there in about an hour. After finding a great blood trail leading into the heavy brush, it began to lighten up after about 35 yards. After another 15 yards of smaller spots of blood, we jumped a bedded deer, which we assumed was him. We immediately and quietly backed out. Once back at camp, I reviewed trailcam pictures and fortunately found what I was expecting. The shot was just a bit back, possibly due to deer movement prior to the shot. It appeared to be a liver shot, probably clipping one lung.
While Jackson made us a couple bologna sandwiches, we decided to get some work done around camp and then fill a couple feeders before heading back out. Once we picked the trail back up a few hours later, we found where the buck had bedded before we spooked him. Following sparse blood and heavy hoof prints, the tracking led us another 75 yards toward a dry creek bottom. The tracks and blood trail had run out. Without knowing which way the buck had gone, we were about ready to begin a grid search. At that point, I heard the ruffle of wings from above. Looking up, only about 15 yards in front of me, two buzzards left their perch high in an oak tree over looking that creek bed. I crept to the edge, motioning for Jackson to keep low and quiet and to come join me. There he was! The creek was deep, the banks were muddy, and the rain began to come down again (you can see it in the pic), but we only had about 150 feet to drag him to a sendero I could pull up to with the truck. I am still beside myself with pride for this boy and his first archery harvested deer! I'm sure there will be many more, but this one is special, just the way Jackson wanted it.
Todd
My son, a freshman in college, has hunted with with me ever since he could sit still for five minutes. It was only this past fall that he showed more than a passing interest in bow hunting. He's mentioned it before, talked about it sporadically, and was even given a bow as a birthday present when he turned 13. He was heavily involved in sports programs through middle school and high school, as well as band and teaching himself how to play multiple instruments. Suffice it to say, the bow fell to the wayside. He did, however, maintain a heart and passion for the outdoors, fishing and hunting.
Fast forward to the fall of this year. Ready for the challenge, Jackson asked me to help him get into archery. I obliged, pulling out one of my older, favorite bows. I ordered new strings and hardware, set it up and tuned it all within the matter of about a week. While getting the bow set up, I taught my son the proper technique in pulling his bow back and how he should anchor. He took to it very quickly! After moving to College Station for his first semester, I set him up with a semester pass at a local archery shop and range. He began shooting immediately.
The rain began to let up as the sun broke through the cloud cover for a brief moment just after 8:00 am Sunday morning. Watching several doe and a few tom turkey, I turned my attention to the texts I was receiving. Jackson was sitting in a pop-up blind I put into place just a few days before Thanksgiving. He was dry and warm. The cell phone signal is iffy, at best, at the High Line pop-up, but his texts to me came through effortlessly. He said, "Big 10 is here" and "What do you think I should do" and after verifying which deer, I gave him the green light.
Jackson was also watching several tom turkey strut, cluck, and peck in and around the corn piles we had placed out in the pre-dawn hours. The buck, he reported, looked and acted very skittish around the birds. If you've ever watched the turkey swarm in and suck up every kernel of corn like a giant vacuum, you know how nerve racking that can be! With the deer distracted, Jackson drew back his 3-blade Rage tip arrow and sent it 18 yards to his quarry. Excitedly, he texted that the shot looked and felt good. My heart was pumping full volume! I told him to hang tight and I would meet him there in about an hour. After finding a great blood trail leading into the heavy brush, it began to lighten up after about 35 yards. After another 15 yards of smaller spots of blood, we jumped a bedded deer, which we assumed was him. We immediately and quietly backed out. Once back at camp, I reviewed trailcam pictures and fortunately found what I was expecting. The shot was just a bit back, possibly due to deer movement prior to the shot. It appeared to be a liver shot, probably clipping one lung.
While Jackson made us a couple bologna sandwiches, we decided to get some work done around camp and then fill a couple feeders before heading back out. Once we picked the trail back up a few hours later, we found where the buck had bedded before we spooked him. Following sparse blood and heavy hoof prints, the tracking led us another 75 yards toward a dry creek bottom. The tracks and blood trail had run out. Without knowing which way the buck had gone, we were about ready to begin a grid search. At that point, I heard the ruffle of wings from above. Looking up, only about 15 yards in front of me, two buzzards left their perch high in an oak tree over looking that creek bed. I crept to the edge, motioning for Jackson to keep low and quiet and to come join me. There he was! The creek was deep, the banks were muddy, and the rain began to come down again (you can see it in the pic), but we only had about 150 feet to drag him to a sendero I could pull up to with the truck. I am still beside myself with pride for this boy and his first archery harvested deer! I'm sure there will be many more, but this one is special, just the way Jackson wanted it.
Todd
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