By Rich Miller
As I wrote a couple of weeks ago, I haven’t gotten to do much hunting this year. I know it has been hot, but with work and family I just haven’t had many chances. The few times that I have been, my little boy wanted to tag along with me – and my wife even went one time. Even though I was in the woods, I wouldn’t call it productive hunting time by any means.
This past weekend was the first time I got to go into the woods when everything was right. The weather was good and I was sitting in my Summit climber on the side of one of my favorite hardwood ridges. It was the first cool morning that I had been in the woods, and when I say cool, it was pretty much cold. Luckily, I had worn enough clothes to stay warm because it was a lot cooler that I thought it was going to be. The morning was just about perfect; it was still and quiet but pretty much uneventful otherwise. That’s until 9:15 when I saw a deer down the ridge from me cross the creek.
I immediately grabbed my grunt call and called to him but he just kicked it into a higher gear and kept going. I kept calling every few minutes because something had torn that deer’s nerves up the way acted when I called to him. He didn’t want anything to do with another buck and I was hoping to get the attention of whatever scared him. Fifteen minutes later, I heard something going on over the ridge and it sounded like something running around or fighting. This went on for several minutes until I finally caught a glimpse of a deer. I didn’t see any horns but I did notice that the deer was really dark. I grunted at him a few times and the deer snort-wheezed at me.
After a few minutes of calling back and forth to each other, I finally spotted the nice 8-point headed my way. He eventually ended up at 8-yards under my stand. When he turned and quartered away – offering me a chip shot – I came to full draw and settled my pin where I needed the arrow to disappear. When I touched off my release, my smooth and quiet bow turned loud and bumpy. I never saw my arrow hit the buck and he just turned around and slowly bounced off, looking as confused as I did. I sat there holding my bow looking at it with strings going every which way. I was upset but it wasn’t because I missed my chance at first big deer of the season; it was because of the shape my bow was in. In all my years of bow hunting, I have never had a bow I have liked as much as this bow and now it wasn’t capable of doing me any good. I noticed the top limb was split and one side of the gable was broken, which had the top idler wheel cocked sideways. I hated that this had to happen when I was shooting at this deer, but then I got to thinking that it could have happened in a couple of weeks when I was in Kansas. I just hope that I can get it fixed before I have to leave. If I can’t get mine repaired in time, that’s what is going to have to happen. Luckily, I talked to my dealer and he thought he could get it fixed by next weekend, which will give me a week to shoot it a lot before I leave. I guess if it had to happen, there could have been worse times; but I don’t think that there could have been a good time.
I just hope my luck changes before I get to Kansas.
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