This is long, and I don't have a picture for you, but bear with me, hopefully I can post some soon..
Prehunt.....
Finally got a non windy day that I could get out and hunt. Stayed at my folks house Friday night, I went spotting with my old man. I always have enjoyed those times together, from the time I was 3 sitting four wide in the old blue ford, until now, 29, taking the wifey and step kids out with him. We drove around the old home place, and saw lot of great bucks, all with does close by. I was pretty stoked, but I had been out a few times last week, and had been striking out. I had been hunting a particular buck, real nice 10 point, just up the township road from my folks. I had been striking out, and generally just spreading my scent around, and not seeing any bucks. I was trying my best too, setting up on downwind sides of thickets, trying to play the doe bedding area game, the usual. Nothing was paying off though, wind, crap weather, fronts, you name it. I know this area well too, I have small game hunted it for years, but never really deer hunted it very hard. Every time I thought I had him figured out, I would absolutely strike out. It was frustrating because the deer we had been seeing spotting were all wound up from doe. This is our week boys, and I was crapping the bed!
Hunt...
I decided to head over to a property that I have often turned to in the past to kill a buck. I have several spots I like to hit, depending on wind, time of year, etc. I don't have any permanent stands, but rather I have been relying on a climber for years. Well, I set up in what I call my "Property Line" stand. It is right on the edge of the property, believe it or not, and it is a great area in the rut. Well, long story short, the neighbors were looking for a buck they had shot friday night, and they were making a lot of noise, so I decided to move around 9. I moved through a little thicket of olives and climbed up a tree I had shot deer out of in the past. Things are getting very grown up there, and shooting lanes are getting thinner from all the olives taking over, but it is still a great spot to find a buck cruising. I hadn't even got sat down yet when I saw a deer moving left to right, into very thick cover about 100 yards down hill. It's head was down, and I thought immediately that it was a cruising buck. The cover is so thick he really disappeared, so I gave a few soft grunts. I thought I saw him, but I couldn't really tell what was going on. Next thing I know he is 20 yards, and closing fast. I draw, he of course gets hung up for close to a minute behind an olive bush. I try to practice for this stuff, but it always seems to go in slow motion in the field. Regardless, he moves forward, now about 5 yards from the bottom of my tree, and I'm fumbling, trying to get a bead on him, and not hit my treestand with my bottom limb. I find a hole in the cover and let one fly. I felt good, right away. 3 blade rage, almost straight down, right behind the shoulder. He takes off, but he is looking good, arrow sticking out nice. I climb down a half hour later, and check the blood. Pink, bubbly, NICE. I am expecting to find him soon. I couldn't have been more wrong.
Tracking...
I followed the blood down hill, towards the bottom of the valley. I look up, and walking right at me are the two guys from the neighboring property. I thought they had seen him go down, but here they were back tracking my blood trail, thinking they had found theirs. Cripes. I tell them what happened, and they showed me where they picked up the trail. Then they started walking right towards where he headed to, and I was thinking dang dudes, please don't jump him. I turned and headed to the jeep with the stand and the bow, and to call my Dad. I had a feeling I was going to need his help. He showed up, he was actually out fooling around, and he was pretty close. We hit the trail at noon. I soon lost the trail, and i was getting worried. 50 yards later I find a POOL of blood, all pink and bubbly. I am now feeling better. He stood here for a while, hurt bad. I tracked him up a hill, to an old logging road that runs level around the edge of the hill. Lots of blood all the way up, and on out the logging road. I kept looking up, hoping to see him balled up, but alas, it was not to be. I had my dad stand on every splash of blood, and I worked forward, looking for the next one. We had come probably 5-700 yards from my stand at this point, and we hit a fence line. Open field, cow pasture. Jesus please us! 200 yards of me crawling on my hands and knees, he crossed a creek. Then up through the field to another fence. I lost him 50 yards from the fence, and a state road. I was really hurting inside at this point, starting to lose hope, when my Dad said hey, on the road, check out all this blood!!! He was right, and we soon crossed the road, into the thickest steepest heck hole I have ever been a part of. The blood was still there, but it was getting tougher tracking him. Olives, blackberries, multifloral rose, you name it. We all but lost the trail, but we could see where he had slipped, stumbed, and fell a few times here and there. It led into a huge field, probably pasture 5 years ago, but getting very over grown as well. I followed along a trail, totally losing the blood. I jump a deer, I thought oh no! It was ok though, because on the way to where that deer had been bedded, I came across something great. MY BUCK!
The Deer...
It was a nice 8 point, not the biggest I have ever killed, but it is very very symmetrical, and very high before it starts curving forward. He is stiff as a board, and it is getting very close to dark by this point. We had gone close to half a mile, both almost quitting on each other dozens of times. It was so gratifying finding him. Now lets get to the tough part. I roll him over, and I look at the inside of his legs. It looks like he has scales. I look closer, and it is thousands of swollen ticks. I gagged, as did the old man. I said well lets get this over with, and started the gutting job. As I parted the hair on his belly, it looks like he has a black stripe running down his belly. Odd I thought, then I realized what it was. Ticks so thick, many not even attacked, just lined up on his belly. Literally 1000's of them. Anyone else ever see this? We both thought long and hard, and decided to leave his corpse. I took his head, and ate only my tag. I figured it was better then getting some sort of blood born disease processing him, something I am not willing to risk. I have a doe tag, and I figure I will try to bust one with the smoke pole after Christmas, and I am sure the boys will help fill the freezer with their WV deer. Regardless, it was a wild story, and the tracking my Dad helped me with was some of the craziest moments of my hunting career. We never fought, or argued, just worked together. I have so much to thank him for, but this was really a great moment for us. I had no idea a deer could go that far on one lung, never heard of such a thing. I checked the shot, and it really was pretty good placement. Blew my mind though.