My 13 year old son is one of those annoying people who decides to do something and works at it till he can do it. Juggling. Playing the guitar. Walking on his hands across a room. Fly fishing. Every sport he's ever played. Not a brag, just matter of fact. We all know that guy, who no matter what it seems he does turns out well. He certainly didn't get that from me. Maybe a little bit from my wife.
He started hunting when he was 9, on the mentored tag. He shot a spike that year. At age 11, he shot a 9 point. Guns were too easy for him, he said. So I bought him/us a crossbow. He hunted with it a few years, but last year, after he turned 13, he was all about a vertical bow. So I bought him a Matthews Mission for Christmas. Not a shared bow, since he's a lefty and I'm not.
He's shot that bow at least 4 days a week since December 25, 2016. Often times - and especially the last few months - 7 days a week. 20-30 minutes a day. He wanted to be good.
A few weeks before archery season this year, I set up an old 10' ladder stand for him in a hot corner of a 30 acre property that we hunt nearby. We cut shooting lanes. Put up a trail cam and got pics of at least 6 different bucks in only 3 days. He hasn't had much time to hunt this fall with sports, and frankly, it's not the same hunting on my own without him.
This evening, he hustled home from a pre season basketball workout, hit the shower and got in his stand at 5:45. Throughout my travels for work today, I noticed LOTS of dead deer, and saw a couple of young bucks out cruising around looking for love. I told him this was gonna be a good night.
A 6:14 he let one fly at 26 yards at a big doe.
The arrow:
Man, that looked good! But there was hardly any blood, after we picked up the trail 20 minutes after the shot. Just tiny drops here and there. I couldn't believe there wasn't more with the way that arrow looked. We went slowly. Fortunately, she kicked up lots of leaves on her death run, but the blood was sparse. Just 40 yards or so from where she stood when he shot, I saw the telltale white, piled up. As you can see, she was dead on her feet. That's the entry wound from the 100 gr. Ramcat. He got both lungs and clipped the liver on the exit.
And here he is, with his latest trophy: