The last six weeks have felt like a lurching scramble as I tried to get fall chores done when the weather was still mostly summer. I reluctantly parked the motorcycles, but realistically only lost a day or two of mediocre commuting. Final lawn mowing was late and hopefully late enough.
Work has been lurching from one issue to the next as well – yet every issue is also the same. Amor Fati.
With a pig in the freezer keeping my bear company, there isn’t that much room. I was borderline about even going out for deer (the warm weather hasn’t helped). Then Mike told me a neighbor was planning on hunting near the 2 creeks and his property line. Ugh…
But I have the time off and even if Opening Day mayhem is not my favorite, it would not be fall without deer hunting; I would miss it.
So Friday after work I squeaked out of work a few minutes early. After stopping at home to let the dogs out, I headed out to Mike's to put up my stand. The recent rains had made the creeks hard to get through, but I found a way. I didn't see the blinds on the neighbor's property, and where they were I decided would be almost a non-factor for me. As usually happens, just walking back to put my stand up made me a bit more excited about hunting.
Saturday morning came and I woke up at my usual way-too-early hour. I gave myself the luxury of a single cup of coffee as I watched TV with the dogs for a while. "Hunting Tech" was on Modern Marvels which seemed only fitting. Based on what it showed, it was probably at least 20 years old (I subsequently looked it up: 2002). It was so nice just sitting with my older dog in my chair; she was absolutely content just snoozing under a blanket. I almost didn't want to leave, but time eventually demanded it.
I was out the door right at 5:45 and made my way to Mike's. Temperatures were warm for November in the mid-40's but were expected to change little through the day with clouds and only light wind. Overall - I'll take it. I hoofed it down to my stand and got set up easily enough. Sitting there in the dark listening to ... nothing - it was almost magical.
Right near legal shooting I heard Mike's neighbor on his 4-wheeler going to his stand. I don't think he hunted the last few years, at least not while I was there.
Since I'm nearly out of space in the freezer, I had decided that I was only going to shoot a nice deer or maybe if an absolute gimme walks in front of me.
Morning came slowly with the clouds but it was nice just being out there. The squirrels were overactive, also taking advantage of the nice day before the cold front a few days in the future.
Mike's neighbor shot around 9:30. It was LOUD; I almost jumped out of my skin. Normally he climbs right on his 4-wheeler and noisily drags his deer away, but I didn't hear that this time. It was one of the only shots I heard on opening morning - a far cry from some previous years when WWIII is happening in Eastern Indiana.
About a half hour later I saw a small buck in the ravine. It plopped down on the ground after milling around a bit. I thought, "I guess it might be bedding down, but that is just not normal." A short time later I heard Mike's neighbor on the 4-wheeler - coming from Mike's property. The buck got up and scooted toward the east, but not fast. "Hmmmmm," I thought. "I'd bet a paycheck Mike's neighbor did a poor shot." Best thing for him to do would be to leave it alone. I thought about what I could do, but decided there was really nothing I could do at that point.
After annoyingly buzzing around for a while, Mike's neighbor left. I wondered what actually happened. Did he do his best to track for a bit and the 4-wheeler was just a last ditch effort? Was it just a half-assed attempt to find his deer from the start? Poor shots happen - no question. But I couldn't help being a little judgey about his roaring around and hoping. I felt really bad for the deer. It will probably hole up and die a painful death or the coyotes might get him.
The morning progressed into afternoon. I was enjoying the time in the stand. With the nice weather I had dressed old-school in some of my ancient hunting clothes; this just always feels right with deer. But I did desperately wish I had my neck gator. With even light wind catching my coat, I felt a brutal chill. It was sitting on the seat in my truck and I almost went to get it, but decided to tough it out (real old school).
Around 2:00 I caught the glimpse of a big deer way at the south end of the property. It looked to be a small-rack, large-bodied deer. I could only see bits and pieces through the brush, but it was nice to see. About a half hour later a small buck came in to my left. I watched it as it milled around toward me. It finally made it about 15 yards away - about as much of a "gimme" as I was going to get. But I chose not to shoot and just snapped a few pictures. Watching animals in a totally natural environment is one of the best things about hunting.
About an hour later I saw a deer in the ravine. When it plopped on the ground, I (almost) knew it was the deer the neighbor had shot. I watched it get up, move a few yards and bed down a few times, "Gosh that thing looks like it is in pain." Then I saw the exit wound...
What are the ethics here? I have almost no shot due to the distance and brush, but that animal is obviously in pain. It also is not the deer that I "want." No ... if it gives me the shot, I HAVE to try.
I watched it for another 10 minutes until it stood up with what looked like a clear lane to the vitals. The last thing I wanted to do is shoot and wound further, "Make this count, Beagle." The gun went off almost without me thinking about it. The deer ran and I heard a crash. It was likely the longest shot I've ever had on a whitetail. So if my original plan was a nice deer or a gimme, this was neither.
I walked my climber down the tree and went over to the ravine. The buck only ran about 15 yards. Sometimes I do things and instantly know it was a poor decision - any introspective person does this. This time I instantly knew it was the right thing. Nope - a small six isn't what I "wanted" and I wasn't desperate for meat, but six hours of misery was already too much. And yet, I won't claim it to be a righteous or courageous ... hopefully principled.
I packed out my stand and came back with my knives and sled. I had tons of daylight to gut the deer and get it out. That crappy sled makes hauling deer out so much easier. In all fairness to Mike's neighbor, the shot wasn't terrible but not good enough.
I stopped in to talk to Mike and Mary for a few minutes before heading home. It took a bit to get the deer strung up in the barn and things put away enough for the night. Sunday would come with much work left to do.
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I took the dogs out early Sunday thinking about the previous day. It was a gorgeous morning and I was a bit wistful that I would not be hunting. But a stunning moon halo told me that nature is its own gift, even without a rifle in hand. The stillness of the morning, the soft glow of the halo, and the energy of the dogs reminded me that the outdoors always holds something magical, whether I'm hunting or simply taking it all in.
