That morning, I had woken to find the outside temperature to be twenty-eight degrees, lower than what I had expected it to be. It was still dark as I got dressed in my thermal wear and insulated camo cover-alls. I entered the garage and slipped on some warm socks and dusted off my insulated hunting boots, which I had not expected to be using so soon. I sprayed them thoroughly with scent killer, slipped them on, and laced them up. This is a wonderful feeling! I love fall bow season! I love hunting, and slipping into camo is as natural to me as everyday wear. I picked out my favorite deer lure and put it in my back-pack, next to my extra calls, acorn cover scent, a bottle of water, and a granola bar. I stuffed in an extra camo coat, just in case. I slipped on a manageable pair of gloves and grabbed the rest of my gear. I stepped out the door and sucked in the freezing air. It hit my lungs and I shuddered. Too cold, too soon, but it means the deer will be moving.

With my bow in hand, I walked half way down our ¼ mile drive, and checked the direction of the wind. Strange, it usually goes up the ridge in the morning, but it’s going down. It was now better for the approach, but the seat I had chosen the day before, wouldn’t work. I cut upwards from the driveway, into the heavily wooded ridge, and after a while of stalking carefully, I reached the wooded clearing and looked for a spot to settle down. How perfect this is!

I had stumbled upon the clearing the other day while coming back from a hunting area that seemed to have no action. This was a dream morning spot! Plenty of deer sign, the advantage of being uphill for a shot, dominant up-hill morning winds at my face, and the rising sun at my back! Because I didn’t have an easily portable stand, I picked a spot to stand, or kneel, up-hill from a major deer trail and claimed it as mine with a little bit of deer lure. All that changed, however, with the strange winds.

So that strange-winded day, I settled for somewhat level ground, down-wind from the trail. I knelt beside a large hemlock, with other hemlock bush-sized trees around me, acting as my camouflage. I pulled my mask closer and higher around my face, shielding it from the cold. Occasionally, I sat on my heels, relieving my back and upper legs for a while. Here and there, an annoying squirrel would rustle in the leaves for nuts and bound by me. I could hear their toe nails on the bark as they scurried up the trees. I can’t wait till squirrel season. The little buggers drive me ‘nuts’! I laughed silently as they continued on their noisy ways. I knelt back up, looking around carefully beforehand.

An hour and a half after I had left the house, it was quite light, but the sun had not yet come over the ridge. I once again rested on my heels, wondering how long I could keep it up. Squirrels had been the only things I was seeing, and I was just about sick of them. Suddenly, off to my right, from the hidden portion of the deer trail, I heard a steady running sound. That’s no squirrel! I knelt up and clicked my release onto my bow string. At the part of the trail where I could see through the brush, I saw a grayish-reddish-brown deer shaped figure, bounding towards the clearing. Since I did not have to identify if it was a doe or buck, nor did I have to worry about points, I drew my bow, knowing it was a deer. I saw it enter the clearing and suddenly realized it had quite a large rack atop his head!! Ok, calm down, breathe slowly, and don’t lose yourself.

I got myself angled just right, and then I bleated, trying to stop him. I tried several times as he continued at a fast pace, while I kept my bow in line with him. He finally stopped and I found him through my peep sight and put my pin on him, judging him to be at twenty yards. My heart was pounding, and I struggled to keep my bow steady, but when I did get him in sight, my heart plummeted, for his vitals were behind a large tree!!! I waited for him to walk forward as he looked in the direction he had been heading, but he decide not to take it slow, instead, he bounded on at the same pace as before, and nothing could stop him. I was surprised he took off like that, and saddened, but he had somewhere to go, fast. My bow sank down as he disappeared into the brush, and I heard him continue on.

I waited almost an hour, just in case he decided to come back, but he was gone. What a rush that was, though! I dream of that 6-8 point buck, and the shot of a lifetime that could have been. I long to find him once more, and have him on my wall, but even if I don’t find him, I know it will continue, another buck, another season.

I still have a whole season to go, and I can feel the excitement and the adventure as I step into the woods. My feet itch to go places, my bow waits to be drawn, my arrow waits to be bloodied, and out there is a deer, waiting for me. It is a sweet, wonderful rush to experience something like that, and so close. While I search for the deer with my name on it, I’ll continue freezing my tail off, hiking my feet away, and kneeling till I’m sore, all for the love of hunting!