Texas Two Step
| Bows, hunting, and bowfishing... - Compound Bows |
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I arrived at the lodge on the afternoon of December 9th to meet my Outfitter and friend Gerald Altmann and await the arrival of the rest of the eight hunting partners who would make up my group of companions for the week. Each of them is a personal friend I have made over the years and I look forward to seeing them on this annual trip to the hill and divide region of Texas. I am as much gratified by the memories and trophies that accompany them home as I am of my own, so I could hardly wait for the hunt to begin and the stories to start rolling in.
Our guide, Raymond, dropped each of us off at our various stand locations and pledged to return at about 9:30am for pick-up. He advised us that the deer were still rutting and although the breeding period was in the declining stages, bucks could still be seen chasing does. Thus, it was not unlikely that a good buck could appear at virtually any time while cruising the ranch pastures in search of the few remaining receptive females of the season. And so it was with great anticipation that we entered the dark, frosty air to wait for the coming of day and the hope that an ember luck would warm us with her favor. My stand was a 7 foot tripod tucked invisibly into a clump of cedar trees. The single narrow shooting lane was cut out directly in front of the stand to provide a set up that allowed archers maximum concealment, an essential ingredient in the recipe leading to successfully drawing the bow undetected and making the shot. Although some archers prefer more visibility than such stand sites permit, I have always contended that visibility serves no purpose if it does not lead to a shot opportunity. So for me, this stand of heavy cedar boughs and twisted branches was perfect. The morning passed uneventfully, with only a few does and one small buck making a daylight appearance in front of my stand. However, it was clear that bigger deer were in the area as just before light I heard a buck chasing a doe, invisibly grunting with each stride he took across the rocky pasture. Perhaps this deer would return and offer me a shot when I could see him. That afternoon, I was back on stand by 3:30. Within minutes, deer appeared in front of my location. First at the scene was a year and a half old spike buck. Later, a menagerie of does, fawns, and young bucks ranging from four to eight pointers arrived. Finally, at 4:20, I saw a doe to my left through the cedar branches. Behind her appeared to be a mature deer with a heavy neck and broad shoulders. They were moving in the opposite direction from my location, but despite this, the doe kept looking my way. Then, the spike that had been near my stand for the previous hour trotted across the pasture and with his head down, and in that typical ground eating gait indicative of the rut, sought to check the doe. However, she quickly scooted into cover to avoid him and with the mature buck in tow; I lost sight of the trio as I shook my head, marveling at how quickly the fortunes of hunters can change.
The big deer ran 50 yards and stopped, wobbling and barely able to keep his feet, before making a final 30 yard dash and collapsing into a heap. I waited for 25 minutes to make sure that he remained motionless and then descended the tripod to tag him and admire him up close. The old buck was a war horse of a beast, with a thick neck, scarred face, and a unique 5 x 3 non-typical antler configuration. He had an old tear, long since healed, in his left ear and had some broken right tines from the season’s fight for dominance and breeding rights. It was clear that this ancient monarch of the Texas hills had been quite the scrapper in his day and I was grateful to have been given the opportunity to take such a majestic animal and to be able to honor him by placing his mount in my trophy room. On the basis of age and character, this was my best deer, and to have taken him with a bow made the experience especially satisfying. When Raymond arrived to pick me up, I was thrilled to see that two of my other hunting partners had also had a successful afternoon on stand. My good friend, Darel had killed a dandy eight pointer and Brain had arrowed a nice 10 point. The hunt was definitely off to a great start, with three bucks on the meat pole and everyone reporting sightings of deer. The next day, I decided to sit out the morning hunt and return to my stand during the afternoon. I watched numerous bucks feed through my shooting lane including a fat, white racked eight pointer. He was a pretty buck, but I was looking for something special: either another mature deer or a really unique deer. Although this buck was a very nice animal, I decided to let him go and see what else might offer me a shot.
At 8 am, deer began to leave the area for bedding cover. As a doe and her fawns were crossing in front of my blind, they suddenly stopped, ears alert, and began to stare past my location. I slowly turned around in the blind to see a tall racked buck standing in the mesquites. Quickly, he vanished into the cover, but I readied my rifle, just in case I got another look at him and made a decision to shoot. Suddenly, he emerged in a gas pipeline right-of-way just 60 yards from my location. He was looking in my direction and through the Nikons, I could see he had a tall rack with a unique split right brow tine on one side and a long dagger-like brow tine on the other. I leveled my rifle, put the crosshairs of the scope on the buck’s chest, and squeezed the trigger. At the report of the gun, the deer’s reaction validated that the shot placement was solid and with a grateful sigh, I thanked God for another lethal hit and the promise of a short blood trail. My second buck of the trip traveled less than 70 yards before going down. He was different than the ancient deer I had taken with my bow, in that he had a tall symmetrical rack with unique brow tines and rough, trashy bases. He was a beautiful animal and would make a beautiful mount to accompany the magnificent monarch I had taken the previous day.
For me, this trip was my 10th consecutive year in the on-going odyssey of hunting west Texas. During those years, I have made countless friends, logged a multitude of memories, and taken a truck load of deer and turkeys. But, this was the first time I had killed two bucks in two days with two different weapons and after two years of not tagging a Texas buck. For me, that qualifies as the ultimate Texas two-step. And God willing, I’ll be back next year for another chance at another dance and the amazing opportunities to hunt the whitetails of the west. Claudia’s Equipment List:
© January 2006 |
After a tediously long drive from my home in Kentucky and several unanticipated stops along the way for cell phone and vehicle repairs, I finally arrived at the dusty little west Texas town of Eldorado. As in the nine consecutive years prior, I was here during the latter portion of the season to bowhunt whitetailed deer, only this time, with a bit of a twist. I had booked a hunt that would allow me to use either a gun or a bow, so I brought both weapons in hopes of having an opportunity to use each on this annual hunter’s dance with destiny.
Our hunt began on the frigid morning of December 10th. Temperatures had climbed from the previous week’s low of single digits, but at 27 degrees, we were hardly having a heat wave. In keeping with habit, I dressed in layers of natural wool to shield myself against the cold and grabbed my bow, a Mathew’s Ovation, before heading out the door for the ride to the ranch I would be hunting. Although I would normally be accompanied by one of my favorite traditional bows, the stands on Gerald’s properties are geared toward the compound shooter’s more compactly designed bow limbs. And given the hearty construction and unquestionable accuracy of my Mathew’s compound, I decided that it was by far the best choice for this year’s hunt.
I’ve often said relative to hunting that it takes luck to be successful and this instance was no exception when unexpectedly and out of no where, the doe that had just vanished crossed in front of my shooting lane. A quick glance behind her confirmed that the mature buck was still there, several strides behind, but clearly walking my way. I drew the 50 pound Mathew’s bow and anchored the Easton Axis shaft. Within seconds, the big buck’s right shoulder entered the shooting lane and as he moved it forward, pausing to scent check the track of the doe, I sent the 100 grain pink Muzzy broadhead on a track that sent it right through the buck’s heart.
The next morning saw me at a rifle stand with my 30.06 and a pair of Nikon Monarch binoculars. Two does with their sets of twin fawns were the first to appear in the sendaro. Then, bucks of every size began to filter through the cedars and live oaks, giving me ample opportunity to see and evaluate a number of great looking deer. Just like the previous night, there were a lot of pretty bucks, but nothing that met my criteria had yet come into view.
The rest of the hunt proved wildly successful for my hunting partners. Steve and Sue who were rifle hunting this trip, both killed heavy antlered bucks, Darel killed another good eight point with his 30.30 rifle, and Sharleen killed a dandy eight pointer, her first bow buck, with her compound on the last evening of the trip. As always, there were some missed shots and some missed opportunities, but most bowhunters will agree that such things are part of the allure of the stick and string and one of the many reasons why we continue to use primitive weapons to spite this modern world.