Day 9 - Tuesday, Oct 9
Since the corn was being picked on the farm W of Neal's on Monday, Re-Phil and I decided to test our luck in the two stands on Neal. I had to work late and did not arrive until 4:10 pm. We changed clothes and headed out. I was on stand at 5:00 pm. I climbed up the E stand (new one) and Re-Phil took the W stand (installed several years ago). This was decided because the E stand is more open, and I have a greater range with my crossbow than Re-Phil has with his recurve crossbow. Mistake - more open equals more wind can blow through - and that's exactly what it did.
Check out this screen shot from my phone. 60 F. 16 mph wind, with gusts to 28 mph. Yep, that's THE definition of windy. Now, everybody get out your wind chill charts.
25 - 30 mph winds drop the temperature 12 - 14 degrees. That means it was FEELING like it was somewhere around 46 or 48 degrees. Try sitting is gale force winds at 48 degrees F for 2.5 hours. No, I was not dressed appropriately. It took less than an hour before I felt cold.
Re-Phil texted me that 2 doe had come from the N, turned and headed W at 5:30. He wanted to know how far from the stand to the field. I said I ranged it at 15 yards earlier this year. He said, "No, the field to the W." What? That's got to be 90+ yards, but I didn't range it because it's too far for a bow AND there are too many trees in the way for an arrow to get there. Does he think he's Robin Hood???
I watched two squirrels chase each other until my phone buzzed at 7:04 pm. It was Re-Tard, I mean Butt Commander, I mean Re-Phil saying he had just shot a doe. He said several were headed NE. I held for a few minutes and then walked to his stand. He said he watched 3 come out and shot one at 15 yards through the lungs. He said that he watched her jump and that he saw the bolt sticking out of her chest.
He tracked her prints to the edge of the woods, but then lost her in the dense foliage. Since we were short on daylight, we split up and each took a trail - trying to track her down. We walked out of the woods 90 minutes later without ever finding the first drop of blood. Needless to say, we did not recover the deer.
At this point, newbies might be questioning the ethics of bow hunting and not recovering a deer that's been wounded. I do not wish to participate in that debate. It's included in the package deal. Sometimes they run off to die and never get recovered. Fortunately, this is the exception. We did our best, but surmise that the bolt did not completely pass through her body - maybe stuck on an opposite rib bone. Thus, blood had to fill the chest cavity, then start leaking out the plugged hole, drip down her hair, and then hit the ground. Phil is confident he made a good shot. Circumstances dictated that she not be found this time. She did die a quicker and less traumatic death than what Mother Nature could offer (starvation, disease, coyotes, etc).
Well, that's why it's called "hunting" and not "killing." If this were easy, everybody would do it, right?
The easy bit is removing yourself from the killing by driving to the grocery store and buying pre-packaged / processed meat. Regardless, animals must die so that we humans can continue living. As hunters, we're just closer to the death than non-hunters choose to be.
Okay, I'll get off my soapbox.
Check out this screen shot from my phone. 60 F. 16 mph wind, with gusts to 28 mph. Yep, that's THE definition of windy. Now, everybody get out your wind chill charts.
25 - 30 mph winds drop the temperature 12 - 14 degrees. That means it was FEELING like it was somewhere around 46 or 48 degrees. Try sitting is gale force winds at 48 degrees F for 2.5 hours. No, I was not dressed appropriately. It took less than an hour before I felt cold.
Screen shot at 6:12 pm - by then I was already cold.
Re-Phil texted me that 2 doe had come from the N, turned and headed W at 5:30. He wanted to know how far from the stand to the field. I said I ranged it at 15 yards earlier this year. He said, "No, the field to the W." What? That's got to be 90+ yards, but I didn't range it because it's too far for a bow AND there are too many trees in the way for an arrow to get there. Does he think he's Robin Hood???
I love this shot. My shadow, dead center of pic. From stand, facing NE.
I watched two squirrels chase each other until my phone buzzed at 7:04 pm. It was Re-Tard, I mean Butt Commander, I mean Re-Phil saying he had just shot a doe. He said several were headed NE. I held for a few minutes and then walked to his stand. He said he watched 3 come out and shot one at 15 yards through the lungs. He said that he watched her jump and that he saw the bolt sticking out of her chest.
He tracked her prints to the edge of the woods, but then lost her in the dense foliage. Since we were short on daylight, we split up and each took a trail - trying to track her down. We walked out of the woods 90 minutes later without ever finding the first drop of blood. Needless to say, we did not recover the deer.
At this point, newbies might be questioning the ethics of bow hunting and not recovering a deer that's been wounded. I do not wish to participate in that debate. It's included in the package deal. Sometimes they run off to die and never get recovered. Fortunately, this is the exception. We did our best, but surmise that the bolt did not completely pass through her body - maybe stuck on an opposite rib bone. Thus, blood had to fill the chest cavity, then start leaking out the plugged hole, drip down her hair, and then hit the ground. Phil is confident he made a good shot. Circumstances dictated that she not be found this time. She did die a quicker and less traumatic death than what Mother Nature could offer (starvation, disease, coyotes, etc).
Well, that's why it's called "hunting" and not "killing." If this were easy, everybody would do it, right?
The easy bit is removing yourself from the killing by driving to the grocery store and buying pre-packaged / processed meat. Regardless, animals must die so that we humans can continue living. As hunters, we're just closer to the death than non-hunters choose to be.
Okay, I'll get off my soapbox.
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