URICH EARLY BOW SEASON HUNT
The heat of summer is entrenched, and the 4th of July signals to bow hunters the summer 'break' is half-over. I'm thinking of cool relief of autumn. By October, deer return from timber to fields under moonlit nights, they'll migrate earlier without dusk's cover.
2013
Summer's humidity was relentless. But Fall bow season had begun even as uncomfortable heat hung on. One humid afternoon, Ed and I opted to drive to hunt Urich Conservation Area prior to gun season's crowd chased off all the deer..... afterwards, it would be futile to hope for a modicum of success in Urich's small area.We loaded the Jeep with his climber stand and the ground blind I use, and an assundry of other supplies necessary including the small homemade deer cart. The usual mass mayhem of traffic kept us from making significant speed to Urich conservation area. Since the freezer was nearly empty, the woods and wild beckoned us both as necessity.
Pulling into the long gravel road my heart sank seeing another truck parked at the lot. Takes a lot to rile him, so no surprise Ed didn't display the disappointment I felt. As we gathered our gear the other hunter walked across the field toward us. Ed greeted the young man while I was immersed packing my gear into the camo backpack. Gear and clothing had gotten strewn in a mess in the back seat in our haste to head down the highway. I wished I hadn't so much to carry on my back and the weather would cool down.
The men exchanged typical "how's the huntin' going?" small talk. I rolled my jacket into my backpack and joined them. He affirmed there were buck rubs in the area I intended to go. His direction was farther than my energy could haul the pack on my back. I didn't let that discourage me, but I sure wouldn't need that jacket till very late on this day.
The guy also told of a black panther seen in these parts. That was only to keep you aware but not enough to stop you - you go hunting anyway. Not likely to come face to face with a man-eating big black kitty. We all chuckled warily, taking caution with a grain of salt, knowing damn full-well no feline would rob any of us of our game. He was meticulously preparing his stand to return the rest of his day before heading home to family, just then his cell rang.
Our new acquaintance was a good, cordial hunter. He and Ed offered to help each other if any of us shot the "big boy"... hold that thought. Not every hunter so generously gives you a heads up where he's at so the meeting was welcome after all.
My husband gave me a dutiful good luck peck and a familiar teasing wink before his boots crunched on gravel, then carved through the weedy field. He knew I was excited, that the Lord watches over me when out of his sight. He knew how deeply I am in-tune with hunting, with nature, how much I love going with him outdoors. That I'd go with him anywhere.
The three of us waved our hands 'good luck' as the men headed into their respective corners of timber, the young man toward the creek's plateau, the same timber that harbors those elusive turkey flocks. Obviously he was also familiar to the Big Creek basin. Its layout had become so overgrown that a big buck could stand amidst the mass of downed tree trunks destroyed by flooding, but it'd never be seen. A ghostly statue standing in the bowels of dark, haunting woods. It's their boudoir, not fit for humans (mho). Not too much concern for these experienced hunters, one gripping a wooden Recurve, the other a compound bow swung nimbly over his shoulder, both in a gait set on their own goal.
Watching these men, the sight gave me a tingle of anticipation of the possibility of success, warmed my heart to watch real sportsmen setting out to put a plan into action to put food on the table. Fruition of our ancestors, who thrived because they were skilled and hardcore survivalists not as a preference but that was their life...
I was reassured and hopeful. Optimistic then, I stepped into my feelin'-good, huntin' stride. About twenty-five yards off a deer trail between a triangular section of pine trees and a stretch of thin oak trees, I stopped. Edging closer above a deep ravine, a good 40 feet down, I listened carefully for the slightest hoof noise; meanwhile, scanning the same grassy corridors I had walked the last time we were here turkey hunting. I walked around the path loop, glad it was mowed this season, made walking much easier, my back laden with gear. Note to self: don't carry so damn much stuff.
There I had walked unawares, a beginning bow hunter three years ago. Two does hopped out of the forest edge. They stood still for a second, ears twisting in typical deer radar-circular motion, tails flip- flopping, caught a whiff of me and flip-flagged-white back into the timber. My jaw dropped, ya coulda stuffed a baseball in it. My heart palpitated, stunned, completely unprepared I stood frozen, awestruck. That was all I needed, excited and hopeful for another encounter. I wouldn't just stand there next time, miss another chance like that. I've dreamed of it ever since.
Some men may scoff at getting excited over a doe but when a deer presents itself on public land, you don't be persnickety (in Missouri) unless it's a non qualifying buck. Especially bow hunting, wherever you hunt, it takes a lot more finesse and skill simply to get 'n good range. Fill that tag. Funny, when I started bow hunting I had more close ups accidentally than Ed gets on-purpose. He calls me a 'buck magnet'.
It's an honorable thing to take pride in filling a freezer of meat. When I'm hunting, a doe gets within 20 yards of me, it's dinner. My first bow kill gave me the most adrenaline rush, most primal thrill of accomplishment I have ever had...yet I also bawled like a baby upon finding her in the darkness. Pulling that bow trigger is a helluva lot more personal than a rifle. I heard the arrow's thunk hitting its body. I watched her kick in reflex of the shot. I heard the brush rattle, her hoofs crack on sticks running off... My brain knew I killed her for meat, but in my heart she was a magnificent, strong animal. When we found it crumpled in the weeds, Ed and I knelt and thanked God for His blessing. Always say a thank you prayer.
I've set up the ground blind many times -- I wiggled out of the tight straps, dropped the twenty pound blind in the grass and the overstuffed backpack too.
Sweating, I slipped off the camo shirt layered over my T-shirt and
sprayed 'No-Scent' over me. I speedily, quietly set up the blind. The
day was still too warm for my comfort, making me sluggish. I stepped out twenty paces, hung my scent rope I'd made from a bright pink jump rope onto an overhead pine bough (don't
laugh, deer are colorblind and I've never lost it the rope being bright pink, my husband won't use it, thus it definitely won't get lost). I made sure
I hung it within clear sight of my chair inside the blind.
Grabbed my
saw, slashed and chopped down the close, more impenetrable scrub
brush that would interfere with a shot. I paced to small redbud tree
within thirty yards, carefully unscrewed the doe pee I kept in a baggy
inside my hip pocket and dribbled the liquid on the tops of weeds. Oh
that's a ripe odor! Last, I dribbled a few drops on the grass and the
knotted pink rope. All this preparation to lure a deer with the most
sensitive nose on the planet ... I don't use a range finder, rather pace the distance -- it's a rough gauge, but efficient. Done.
Finally. I
settled down to listen and watch from my little folding chair inside the dark blind.
Ahhhhh.... I basked in the peace and quiet of the woods, and the sun
warmed the blind therefore I didn't need the jacket. I merely
had to maneuver the folding chair into the backside of the blind, into
the shadows, to avoid being seen.
Why not use a 'climber'
stand? I did whenever time allowed. Although I found out the hard way,
with dusk encroaching too quickly I was all-thumbs to install the
climber into position up a tree. It's truly too cumbersome so I set it
up the day prior to my hunt, already in place it takes only a minute to
hoist myself and my bow and pack fifteen feet up a tree. It's just much less hassle to use a ground blind for now. My tree stand is comfortable as a lounge chair to sit observing the woods below and I
love the view, fantastic from above. I've simply not mastered all
the maneuvering yet and it's too heavy for me to load on my back. The
one worst drawback of being a 5'2" woman.
Inside the blind I am relaxed.
I donned my head net, hat and light jersey gloves and attached the trigger-release to my wrist. Bein' so short, I tucked my rolled up jacket underneath, extra cushion on the foldable seat, a bit little more sight over the weeds. I laid two arrows against a weed next to me -- yeppir -- I was ready. I took a big drink of my ice water with the bow across my lap. It was an hour and a half till sunset.
Inside the blind I am relaxed.
I donned my head net, hat and light jersey gloves and attached the trigger-release to my wrist. Bein' so short, I tucked my rolled up jacket underneath, extra cushion on the foldable seat, a bit little more sight over the weeds. I laid two arrows against a weed next to me -- yeppir -- I was ready. I took a big drink of my ice water with the bow across my lap. It was an hour and a half till sunset.
As a kid, I loved chewing
on a sweet blade of grass. I became engrossed in the vibrant colors, the Sumac was dark crimson and the oak leaves, a rich mustard.
Watching the acrobatic squirrels jump from tree to tree was amusing. Time slowed down... I could smell the light doe pee under the pine aroma in the light breeze... the sun was quickly fading over the trees --I knew to be alert.
As the sun's last warmth like a watercolor turned muddy, its amber light suddenly faded, I heard the swish of stiff grass behind me, the blind. I felt the footfall. It was within 2 feet of the blind. In reflex, I didn't breathe, silently raised the bow. I pulled to a full draw. I caught my breath as I sat ready, held my arrow aimed at the blind's window. I heard the Sumac shrub rustle outside of the blind again. It was there!
Bow at full draw, peered through the peep sight but I could not make out any shape of an animal. I shifted my weight, the seat rustled slightly. A whisper of air swoosh, that motion of a deer's swift escape, like a surreal dream. My mind's eye knew. I squinted hard through the peep sight to focus, swore barely audibly as I admitted the moment was past -- it was too dark to see through the peep. The deer that had been there was obviously not any more and I could not shoot that moment now. I 'let down' the bow and arrow and my breath with a hard sigh. My day was done.
Enclosed in the ground blind, shadows were fast developing into darkness; need the flashlight. I dropped the blind so I could see to gather gear under the encompassing nightfall.
With the last seconds of dusk gone, there was ample light enough to walk with a bright, smiling moon. Warm breezes changed to cool wafts of light fog spreading across the field underneath the moon and stars slowly rising, dotting above the trees' silhouette. Nature's magic hour was over.
Another not quite uneventful hunt under my belt. I headed to the Jeep parked quarter of a mile away. I was tired but felt recharged and I was ready to go home in spite of the city.
As the sun's last warmth like a watercolor turned muddy, its amber light suddenly faded, I heard the swish of stiff grass behind me, the blind. I felt the footfall. It was within 2 feet of the blind. In reflex, I didn't breathe, silently raised the bow. I pulled to a full draw. I caught my breath as I sat ready, held my arrow aimed at the blind's window. I heard the Sumac shrub rustle outside of the blind again. It was there!
Bow at full draw, peered through the peep sight but I could not make out any shape of an animal. I shifted my weight, the seat rustled slightly. A whisper of air swoosh, that motion of a deer's swift escape, like a surreal dream. My mind's eye knew. I squinted hard through the peep sight to focus, swore barely audibly as I admitted the moment was past -- it was too dark to see through the peep. The deer that had been there was obviously not any more and I could not shoot that moment now. I 'let down' the bow and arrow and my breath with a hard sigh. My day was done.
Enclosed in the ground blind, shadows were fast developing into darkness; need the flashlight. I dropped the blind so I could see to gather gear under the encompassing nightfall.
With the last seconds of dusk gone, there was ample light enough to walk with a bright, smiling moon. Warm breezes changed to cool wafts of light fog spreading across the field underneath the moon and stars slowly rising, dotting above the trees' silhouette. Nature's magic hour was over.
 |
| full moon at dusk |
Another not quite uneventful hunt under my belt. I headed to the Jeep parked quarter of a mile away. I was tired but felt recharged and I was ready to go home in spite of the city.