I am finishing up my final semesters of college. This is where most of my focus is and my time goes. When bow season opened up all I kept hearing was the guys giddy with Buck fever. I of course just roll my eyes because they are rubbing it in that they get to go hunting and I don’t. Somewhere along the lines of stress, little sleep and a bad golf swing I pulled a pectoral muscle. The same week, Colt, the sweet guy that he is took my bow for a check up at Archers Image. They also decided that I should be pulling back about ten pounds more than I was.
Right before Thanksgiving break, I finally made it to the stand. I was ready to shoot anything that came to me. Getting to the stand too early has its flaws. The shooting rail had been pushed all the way back and was jammed under a branch I couldn’t see. So I sat there with no cover and everytime I attempted to adjust, the noise was awful or that little buck would walk up behind me. I gave in and decided stealth mode would work just as well.
About 10:00 there was a lot of movement and noise. I was ready. Blood was finally starting to flow to my poor frozen toes. A doe came out and I raised my bow waiting on the possibility. When the time came, I pulled with all of my might on that bow. My chest felt like it was shredding and the bow felt like it was pulling back. I couldn’t give up, not when I might not get a chance to come out til January and Colt had already used up two of his tags. My feet started kicking like I was running a marathon and I swear I didn’t tell them to do that. That pretty pink string touched my cheek and the doe was still watching. Can you believe after all that effort and all that pain, the deer stayed, and after all of that…………she was chased off by another doe. I couldn’t do anything but laugh because my legs ran faster than hers.