Today - Afternoon events
With the afternoon coming to a close, Buschy decided we should drive over and try another place we had tried yesterday to no avail. It was his turn to go and glass from the points, so Troy and I stayed at the truck and visited about the extreme hunting/filming these conditions presented. We both agreed that this was the toughest challenge we had faced in the two season of filming, and exceeded any other challenges by a large margin.
In short order we saw Buschy bouncing back to the truck with the thumbs up. He had found a group of four deer and thought we could glass them better with the spotting scope. Off we went. Through the scope we could see one small buck in the group. He was rutting these three does, but they paid him no attention.
We all discussed whether we should waste time on this buck, given he looked like an 18" 3 point. Troy and I worried that these conditions would never provide an opportunity for us to even film an encounter, let alone shoot a buck. So, we decided it was best to try get within these deer and hopefully get footage of an encounter.
Buschy has shot a lot of nice bucks with is bow, so I offered to make the stalk, if he would stay on top of the ridge and give hand signals. I knew once we dropped off the ridge, into the coulee, we would lose all vision of the deer. Great for us, the wind was in our face and the coulee gave us a vector that would allow us to intercept the deer, as they angled into the wind, exactly 90 degrees from how we angled into the wind. Off we went, already cold from the windy and freezing walk out to this point.
As we dropped down the coulee, I saw the deer cross in front of us about 300 yards. I looked up at Buschy and he was giving frantic signals that I could not interpret. Seeing my struggles in making him out in the ground blizzard, he dropped down the coulee and told me the deer had crossed in front and were angling up a draw almost parallel to us. I moved accordingly and climbed up on a bench that was the high ground between these two ash-filled draws. I looked across and could see three does moving straight away from us. Damn it, there was no way I could catch up to these deer with this little light left.
I turned and looked at Buschy and he was waving frantically and pointing further to the east. I could see that he was wanting me to follow his very exaggerated hand signals. So, I started to the east, even though the does were heading north.
I used a big piece of brush to hide me and Troy as we crossed the bench and neared the next drainage. I was looking up the drainage, glassing feverishly for the buck that was with this group. Troy whispered, "There he is." Where, was my question.
Right in front, almost north, rather than east, was a deer in the brush and ash trees. I couldn't make out if it was the buck, or not. As he moved his head, I could see him feeding hard, and I could also make out the three points on this side of his rack. He wasn't a lunker, but I was now within 100 yards.
He moved to the left slightly, and his eyes were now behind a big ash tree. I motioned for Troy to follow me. I moved forward to fifty yards. I knelt down and ranged the distance. In this wind, 50 yards was more than I wanted to shoot. The buck continued to fee with his head behind the tree, so I motioned Troy to my spot, and I moved forward again.
This was perfect. Well, almost perfect. The buck was feeding, completely unknown to me and if he moved further left, I would have a 45 yard shot. If he turned back and moved further right, I would have about a two foot opening, but would have a shot not much over 30 yards.
My hands were now freezing. Anyone who has sat for a long time in 11F temps and 30+ mph winds, knows that bare hands stop functioning real quick. I sat and waited. I kept one mitten on and put my right hand and my release in my pant pocket, hoping to keep warm. This lasted for what seemed like two hours. Only late, would Troy tell me that it took 17 minutes on tape. Still too long for hands to stay warm.
I was worried that if the buck did present a shot, I would not be able to draw may bow. I was shaking so bad. Not so much from the excitement, as I was the cold. I had been on my knees for over twenty minutes and had no circulation in my feet. I could not feel my toes. My hands were numb, and my face burned from the wind.
Finally, the buck turned right. I could see he might make the small opening. I ranged it, but in shaking so bad, I could not get a good read out. I then used my bow to brace the range finder and got a solid reading. 31 yards. Twice, he looked as though he would emerge, and I pulled my hand from my pocket and attached my release. Both times, he stopped just short of the opening, so I unhooked the release and tried to re-warm my hand in my pocket.
I looked at Troy and told him I was going to shoot the buck, given the classic encounter we had on our hands. He nodded in agreement. I did not know this, but the 20 minutes he had on tape when we arrived upon the buck was now down to one minute. He had to turn the camera off to save tape. We were too close to change tapes at this time.
About the time I was ready to give up in fear that the cold had compromised any ability for me to shoot, the buck took two steps. He was now in the opening, but the angle was quartering to much toward me. I drew back and hoped he would turn more away, giving me some broadside option. As if he heard my request, he moved slightly away from me, making it almost a perfect broadside shot, with most of his vitals still exposed in my shooting lane. Being at full draw, I knew my strength was gone, and I decided as soon as I had the pin on his chest, I would release.
Next thing I remember was watching the arrow head toward the buck and strike him good. A little far back, but no doubt, a lethal hit. He jumped the ten feet up the far side of the coulee and struggled off about fifty yards. I watched as he staggered to keep his balance, then do a nose dive into the brush. I was shaking uncontrollably. I kept and eye on the buck as Buschy grabbed my pack and headed the 250 yards down the coulee to where this encounter had unfolded.
Buschy had watched the buck collapse and was more excited than I was. We moved forward very slowly, watching the buck make his final struggles and roll down into the coulee.
With fading light, I moved forward and found the buck in the bottom of the coulee. I couldn't believe it. He is not a great trophy of size, but in terms of challenges faced and commitment to success, he is my best trophy ever.
Troy and I both agree, that this is the most difficult filming yet. The footage acquired, in the context of below zero windchills and using archery equipment, makes this public land buck our best work in two seasons of filming. Some will watch and yawn, seeing the buck is no monster. But for those who have fought such conditions, day after day, and archery hunted public lands after two weeks of rifle season, know what commitment and effort it took to shoot this buck, let alone get world class footage of the entire event.
So with that, Fin has punched his tag, and we have three days of additional treachery to try film Buschy doing the same. I hope he gets one. Regardless of the size, any buck he may get under these conditions is a trophy of the highest degree.
Not huge, but one of my best trophies ever.
Two very cold and equally happy guys.
Packing in the dark. Need to get some of those "close to the road" deals, someday.
Amazing how big snowflakes look in the flash.
Only a half mile to the truck. Thank God.
