The toughest bowhunting season I’ve ever had is coming to a close. I went into this season with very high hopes and a lot of tags in my pocket. I had MT elk, MN bear, MN whitetail, and ND muley/whitetail tags and I was excited to get to work in trying to fill these tags!
The MN bear hunt started it all off for me. In spite of having tons of pics of bears on the bait, the season came and went and I never saw anything more than this.
I did get to spend some really great time with my kids, which was great!
The elk hunt in MT was a bigger disappointment. Mother Nature flexed her mighty muscles on this trip and showed us who’s boss. We took a whoopin’! My buddy Jon shot his first muley, which was awesome!
Anytime in the mountains is wonderful and I’m extremely grateful for the ability to get out there. However, I didn’t come even remotely close to getting a crack at an elk and I was very frustrated and discouraged by the trip.
Whitetail hunting in MN was more of the same- I had to deal with the usual trespassers and people who think they own everyone else’s land. I let a friend’s wife hunt on my mo-in-law’s land and she got run out of her stand by a group of 15 hunters making a drive right through the woods! They were shooting all over the place and had no idea she was there. She didn’t know names or take any pics of license plates, so nothing I could do about it after the fact, since I was in church when it happened.
ND deer hunting was also tough- I only got to the Ranch twice (I think) this year and didn’t see a lot. I sat at my buddy’s land twice and did see a very nice 8 pointer. He went by me at about 80 yards and I couldn’t coax him closer.
Muley chasing ended with a first trip where I gave too much of my warm gear away to my buddies to be able to stay longer than two nights and a second trip where I came close, but never got to shoot an arrow.
Now… I’m sure you can sense my frustration with the season. I put in a great deal of time this year and had a grand total of zero opportunities to show for it. On one hand I fully understand “that’s hunting”, but on the other hand I’ve always believed that if you put in your time and give the effort, good things will come. This year I had put in that time and effort and had absolutely nothing to show for it.
This past weekend my son asked me if I’d take him out hunting at home. I pointed out how cold it was on Saturday, but he really wanted to go. The high was -2 and the windchill hovered right around -20 while we hunted. For a just turned nine year old kid, I was impressed my son wanted to tough it out.
So we headed for the ground blind- I could give him some toe and handwarmers and turn a Little Buddy heater on him.
We were set up on a food plot that I put in this year. I half-way got it in last year, but this was the first year where we’d got the whole thing up and going and had some rain to help it along. Our view:
At 4:30 a small one horned buck showed up. Ryan wanted me to shoot him, but with so few bucks around I didn’t want to. I told him to be patient and more deer would likely show up. A few minutes later a doe and fawn came right in front of us. I didn’t waste much time and got ready for a shot on the doe. As I drew I focused on the spot I wanted to aim for. I took aim, made a perfect release, and hit exactly where I’d aimed. We watched her run 50 yards and stop. I saw the arrow drop out of her where she stopped. She slowly walked off from there. I sent out a couple text messages and said I’d shot a doe and it’d be a short tracking job. My brother, who loves to be part of any hunt, asked if we’d wait for him to show up so he could help track and recover the deer. We obliged. While we waited several other deer showed up and we had fun watching them. Ryan was very caught up in the emotion of the moment and excitement of the shot/hunt and leaned his head on my shoulder and quietly whispered “I love you, Daddy.” It was the single best moment of the bowhunting season for me to that point.
When we got back we quickly found the arrow.
Both my brother and I are colorblind, so Ryan lead the way on the tracking job.
In spite of my confidence in the hit, the blood trail told a very different story. We tracked the deer for over 300 yards and eventually the blood ran out. At that point it was late and Ryan was very tired. We headed in and I took up the trail in the AM. I never found more blood and did semi-circles around the last spotted blood for about two hours. After that I followed every decent trail from the area in all directions and never found a thing.
This was the first deer I’ve hit in 31 years of bowhunting where I didn’t recover it and I assume it died. I could do what so many others I see do- just tell myself and everyone else “I’m sure she made it.” But I’m won’t. In fact, I’m quite doubtful she survived. I felt miserable and thought this was just about a perfect ending to an otherwise cursed year of bowhunting. I toyed with the idea of hanging up my bow for the year and admitting defeat. Stick-to-it-iveness is probably my greatest strength, but I had about had enough.
After I got done looking for the deer Ryan asked if we could again go sit that evening. Mom was headed to Fargo for last minute Christmas shopping, so I said I didn’t think it’d work unless Ryan could convince Morgan to hunt in -7 temps with -25 degree windchills (Sunday was miserable!) Ryan immediately went to work on Morgan. About 15 minutes later she came to me and asked, “Do we have to hunt today, Daddy?” “Nope”, I answered. No way I was going to try force her to and wreck her day and maybe even her interest in hunting in the future. However, Ryan kept on it and he finally convinced her that we could get her toe and hand warmers, use a heater, and we’d bring all of the snacks she would want. She agreed to it and so did I.
At 4:30 I told Ryan “It’s just about deer-thirty.” He thought that was really funny! About five minutes later a yearling doe came out. She walked right in front of us and offered a 15 yard shot. I didn’t pass it up and made good on the chip shot this time. I hit about two inches behind where I aimed, but the blood trail looked great.
We took up the trail.
I walked behind the kids as they followed the blood trail. At one point I stopped to fiddle with my camera and asked the kids to stop. As I messed with my camera, I heard the crinkle of the kids jackets and heard Ryan say to Morgan, “I love you, Morgan.” Morgan responded “I love you too, Ryan.” I turned and snapped a quick picture.
One day later, my new favorite bowhunting moment of the year. They’re usually scrapping like a cat and a dog, but this was a pretty great moment for their dad.
We tracked the deer another 40 yards and found it in the snow and trees.
This last picture is not the hero shot I had in mind when the year started. However, it’s the one that’ll go in a frame and will stay with me for the rest of my life. Maybe the 2013 bowhunting season wasn’t so bad afterall.