Several weeks into the season my husband and I walked a service road at the edge of the woods about a mile to an active deer trail where he had a successful hunt the day before. We hiked into this area, leaving a scent trail to cover our human odor. As I watched my husband set up mock scrapes and scuff the leaves on the ground to attract the pre rut active bucks, we heard a dog bark in the distance and shortly after turned toward the approaching sound of something crashing through the brush to see a huge doe running straight at me from the other side of a wild cherry tree. Just as she reached the road where I stood she turned slightly and headed toward a mass of scrub brush before she found cover again. That was an exciting moment and was almost too close for comfort as the doe passed my way with a scant three feet between us!

I went up about 18 feet in the tree climber and got settled into my seat, and after a while I began calling with a doe bleat about every thirty minutes. After an hour I heard soft steps grow closer and turned to look behind me in time to watch a spike buck, with his head lifted and turning every direction as he searched for the doe, run by so quickly that I did not have time to call before he descended the steep incline and was out of sight. Following about 10 minutes behind the buck a doe crested the hill to my left and trotted toward the ravine at an angle to the path the buck had taken. My first thought was that it was a cow, due partly to her size and partly because of her buff color. When I realized that it was indeed a deer, I drew back on her and mouthed a low voice grunt to try and stop her so that I could site her in. She stopped and turned for a moment and as I looked for her through my peep site the tree next to my stand obstructed my view. I had to lift my bow as I held it at a full draw, to see around the tree I was positioned behind and just that fast she disappeared behind the tree she had stepped beyond. I was so excited I could hardly breathe and yet there was nothing to show for another day hunting. Several hours without any more deer activity gave me plenty of time to exhaust every possibility of what I could have done to change the outcome of the days hunt by replaying the events of both deer passing by again and again. The challenge for me is the difference in taking aim at a still target compared to drawing on a moving deer. Frustrated and impatient that I did not yet have a successful hunt despite all the time and effort I’ve invested so far this season I complained to my husband that I couldn’t seem to get all the pieces to fall together at the same time and he reminded me of the amount of time he spends in the deer woods each season just to get one or two deer. On another day I returned with my daughter to the same place, to hunt on the ground, from within a portable blind. We spooked two turkey and a deer on the way into the area. Nothing else moved along the trail while we were there so Jessi and I took a fun hike to the Blackwater River and back in the afternoon.

Gun-season wasn’t much better, and I think the fact of increased hunting pressure during the rut is why I didn’t see any deer at that point. To make the matter worse, on one early morning hunt whether it was coincidence or not every time I made attempts to call in a deer I heard gun fire in the near distance. The many opportunities public land offers is hindered only by an increasing number of those who will hunt this land in the open season. Out of respect for other hunters, when we know someone else is hunting the area we don’t hunt that area at the same time. With very few exceptions other hunters usually reciprocate that polite etiquette.

Winding down the last few weeks of deer archery season I continued to find that every other hunt was either a disappointment or an outlet to reveal something else I needed to learn, like not setting up too close to the active deer trail. Then on one of my recent hunts I discovered that I have taken myself way too seriously in the late season to even enjoy it. After a while the pleasure of getting out in the woods turned toward a focused motivation in racing against the time left this season to just harvest a deer. I put so much pressure on my self to succeed, that I had forgotten what it is that provokes my desire to hunt. The creature itself is truly a worthy game of pursuit having all the advantages it needs to walk right through several archery seasons. The promise of healthy tenderloin baked, sliced and served with potatoes and homemade gravy puts the beef in my freezer on the back of the shelf at least for a while as we eat well on the bounty of venison stored there . . . But, why do I hunt? To challenge my skills beyond the target harvesting the animal put here by God and blessed by Him for the very purpose that it is intended in Acts 11:7 "Rise, . . . kill and eat."

Trying to lift my spirits after the latest disappointing archery season my husband brought to mind former unyielding seasons which he could now laugh at. Teasingly he suggested that maybe he was here to teach me to have that sense of humor. I am fortunate enough to know that he is being a friend in his attempts at entertaining me. Though in my ill humor I was tempted to mention that he had not yet accomplished what he had suggested. With the unspoken thought passing between us we burst out in laughter reminiscent of countless outdoor blunders either witnessed by him or whispered to him in confidence when I am ready to laugh at myself. To be certain he has also had his share of ‘that’s not so funny’ experiences that bring success into perspective and exposes carelessness or lack of knowledge. It might be amusing to tell his hunting errors, but in fairness I’ll just continue to share my own. It could be said after this recent season hunting that I’m on the list of whose who among first timers, green horns and beginners luck, but why stop there when we could literally fall to the ground laughing instead.

Late in the season after the first snow fall I made my way back into the woods where I’d seen deer bedded at the same time as the day before. Moving quietly, I took a slow steady pace stalking through the edge of a brush lined field to a pond adjacent to the grove of sumac where I had pushed a dozen does from, in my haste the previous day’s archery hunt. I had to take a detour around a small creek which was beginning to flow with the run off from the melting snow, to avoid an open area where I might be seen. In changing my direction I encountered a steep embankment which had an open space within the tangled brush allowing travel through at its crest. I was unsuccessful in my first attempt and made another running charge forward slipping in the mud, but I made it to the top by grasping the branches of smaller trees with my free hand. Somewhere on the way down the other side I lost my hold, my feet slid forward and I continued moving slowly downward with my back against the embankment until I was flat on the ground looking up at the trees above me. I could not get up from that position because the many layers of clothing I wore bound me from a full range of motion. For some reason I could only giggle. I still had my bow in hand it hadn’t touched the ground. As I looked around me for a little help I realized my toboggan was si-goggled (turned sideways) upon my head. I lay there helplessly laughing about how slowly and quietly I had stalked to this point before ending in a noisy sprawl beneath the brush making my presence known to any deer within my chosen hunting area. I might still be there giggling if it had not been for the branches above me that I pulled myself up with. Thankfully I was alone.

The experience showed me the lighter side of the situation and helped put my hunting focus in perspective. I have set a goal to hold my self accountable to the pure joy of going afield with the knowledge of what my mistakes have taught me and the desire to correct them. If there is truth in the old adage that says you learn from your mistakes, I may well be on my way to avoiding making the same ones again next season. For all I’ve read and the amount of time I have spent in the field nothing compares to the firsthand knowledge that comes from the other side of the mistakes I’ve made, and missed opportunities that are teaching me to accept them as they come with patience and a positive attitude.

** If you missed part one click here