I snapped awake, ripped off the bed sheets, and grabbed my
phone to check the time; just as I expected, an hour behind the agreed upon
schedule. Sleep deprivation from my second child had knocked me out with an
upper cut and I somehow drifted past my alarm clock. At a panic level of about 7 out of 10 I
called my hunting partner Ryan to explain my current location and why he was
sitting in his driveway waiting for me. To his credit he had waited longer than
I expected, I told him to leave ahead of me.
After a quick decision on whether or not I should scrap my
wife-approved hunting day, I figured my effort would be still be worth it.
After all, as long as you are sitting in a tree stand, anything can happen. Now,
I have not called Guinness to make this official, but I was able to shower up,
throw clothes on, load equipment in my rig and drive about 40 miles in under an
hour. Ryan claims that he did not hear a sonic boom, but he will admit to scratching
his head in disbelief when he checked his watch as he saw me bombing down the
road to our property. At some point I do intend on researching this phenomenon
further; I either have unknowingly set a land speed record or found some type
of rift in the space time continuum, but that can be address later by a
theoretical physicist.
I quietly scurried to my stand and settled in right as the
sun broke the horizon. The exact words I muttered in my head were ‘At least it
is a beautiful sunrise’. No sooner than I completed that thought is when I
heard a commotion at the edge of the slough behind me. Cows, potential hunt
killers throughout the farmland. Overnight cows decided they were thirsty and
bedded on the edge of the water hole. The glowing horizon had stirred thirst in
their belly and now it was time to water up for the day. As I watched and
listened to them 150 yards away lumber towards the water, I chuckled and
watched a few of the younger herd members inspect the recently installed and
charged electric fence. Movement much closer to my stand popped into my peripheral.
I felt the punch to the gut; two bucks were 40 yards away and picking their way
right past me! This time the cows were on my side and bumped the bucks out of
the slough where they were bedded. I quickly recognized the lead buck as a
shooter and did not waste time in counting points. Smooth and measured I stood
and readied myself. If they kept the same trail they would be in my 22 yard
shooting lane in short order. As I clipped the release onto the D Loop, the
lead buck stopped to plot his course. As he surveyed the trail ahead of him, he
twisted his ears towards a new sound and snapped his head to the right and took
the electric fence right off of his nose!
I can’t type the exact phrase that streaked through mind as
I watched him sprint in a half moon behind my perch, but I was convinced the
last thing I would see was a cloud of dust headed in the opposite direction from
that fence. But, that was not the case. He came to a complete stop 40 yards
behind me and stared back directly at the fence that just zapped him. I am not
sure who won the 5 minute stare down, but the buck decided to let the injustice
go. During that stare down I was able to determine two things: I knew this buck
and he could not smell me, win/win.
This was a buck I named Vanilla and I had missed this deer
the previous season (a story and hard lesson learned for another time). Where
he decided to stop was now directly downwind from me, but he was still clueless
that I was there. I will never know if the electric current to the snout numbed
his sense of smell or if my normal routine of scent prevention was good enough to
give his senses the green light, but either way, this second chance was
happening. He started walking on a new trail that would give me a shot right
around 30 yards. I waited for him to clear a fence then I came to full draw, and
as my 30 pin settled behind his shoulder, the arrow was loose.
As the arrow sailed towards its destination, Vanilla,
probably still on alert from the fence punch, dropped faster than the
temperature on Mars. My arrow drove home with a bone crunching schmaack
and lodged into his spine dropping him like a sack of rocks. Starting
to shake as the adrenaline coursed into my veins, I followed up with a killing
shot to the heart and he quickly expired. Every hunter needs a little bit of
luck because in most cases the odds are against us. Success or failure,
especially in bow hunting, can literally breakdown to inches. On this day, luck
was severely tilted to my side. As I checked for a horseshoe, I sat down on my
stand and collected myself…
Everything happens fast in these situations and it is easy
to lose details in that amount of time, so I was not 100% convinced that this
buck was Vanilla. When I finally climbed down and wrapped my hands around his
antlers is when I knew my story with him was over. At right around 150” gross
it was my biggest bow deer to date. A barrage of text messages, emails, and
congratulations filtered in, but having three years of trail camera history with
the buck and overcoming a missed opportunity from the year before was the most gratifying
aspect of it all. 
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