Bowhunting Story by Bruce Bedard

This bowhunting story is about a good friend of mine, who currently lives in Massachusetts. Bruce e-mailed me this bowhunting story and I thought it would be of great interest to all of my readers. Story by Bruce Bedard

The Year 2005, September 18th. I was walking through the woods, along a ridge, about 2 tears down. My father was a tear up above me. It's not a steep ridge, but it is gradual. Both of us had been hunting two days on the edge of plush grass fields. We were only seeing deer at night. In fact, the year before, out of the tree I was in, I shot a beautiful 7 point buck at 4 yards. It's our third year in this piece of woods and we are slowly starting to master it. I am sure you know what that�s all about. Obviously, the deer are leaving the fields well before daybreak, being the reason we haven't been seeing much in the AM. Anyway, my father and I decided to walk this ridge in search of some acorns, or well traveled deer trails that lead to bedding areas. About 20 minutes into it I crossed a hammered run coming down from the fields at the top of the ridge. I hopped on the trail and followed it to see where it would take me. In the trail, was 2 different sets of split hoof by what I could tell. One was about 200 lbs and the other 155lbs. About 100 yards down the run was a beautiful intersection adjacent to a swampy thicket, with rubs within 30 yards of each direction. I whistled to my father and met up with him. We took out our magical wind checker powder puffers; we like to call them "Angel Farts" and checked the wind. I set up accordingly. My father went down the ridge another 500 yards and set up on some early season scrapes. My bowhunting story starts out the next morning. The morning was warm; maybe 50-60 degrees and it had been raining all night, so it was kind of muggy to. A very miserable morning by all means. All I could hear in the dark was that drizzle of raindrops falling from the leaves above. At times the rain sounded just like crunching of leaves causing my heart to continuously change pace, man I hate that. Again, I am sure you know exactly what I am talking about. I had been in my stand about an hour before the sun even started to turn the sky blue, and I am not exaggerating when I say this, I tip toed my way in, making it a point not to touch anything. I was wearing knee high rubber boots as well. Finally, what felt like hours I started to make out branches and leaves on the ground. Because of the overcast it took even longer to get light. Not 10 minutes after I could see, I saw a patch of brown go by, about 60 yards out. The body looked big, but I couldn't see the head. Then another one went by behind it. Because there were two this close together, I assumed it was a mummy and a baby. I could just barely make out the bodies as they walked parallel with the ridge in front of me. Neither of the deer were on any run around me, the pricks. As the deer walked from my 11 o'clock to my 3 o'clock, I could see they were going to walk right where I had walked on my way in. They would slip right in between me and my father. Just as both deer got to where I walked, they came to a screeching halt. Instantly I was like OK, I'm busted. 20 minutes later, one of the deer put its head up and it was a monster! Huge rack fresh out of velvet. Then the other deer put its head up, it was a smaller, but a nice buck. Both of them just stood there with their noses to the ground doing circles where I walked. I couldn't believe it, the smaller buck, very slowly, sniffed my every track and was heading strait to me. The bigger buck got on my trail and headed the opposite direction. Eventually the bigger buck had disappeared. I turned and faced my tree and leaned my forehead against it. I talked to myself as this buck sniffed his way closer and closer. I could count the points now, he is a handsome looking 8 pointer about 150 lbs. One slow step after the other, he came closer and closer. Now, he's at about 20 yards facing me, nose to the ground. I am expecting him to bolt at any second. 18 yards, 17 yards, 15 yards, 10 yards and at about 9 yards, instantly! His head looks strait up at me. I froze, with my heart in my throat, praying he don't run. All he has to do is turn in any direction and I got him. Finally after about a 30 second staring contest, his head looked left, and he turned. I drew back my 60lb, fingers, Hoyt Rambo bow and anchored. He stopped, I aimed, and let loose. My arrow went through both his lungs and he bolted. I watched as he did a half moon to my 6 o'clock, slowed to a stop, and fell. WOW! What a rush that bowhunting story was. It is amazing what deer can do to your respiratory system, isn't it?

I hope you enjoyed my bowhunting story Ted. Thanks and good luck this year!

Good bowhunting story Bruce!

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