Out of the thicket I headed to a creek bed about 30 yards away.  More rubs!  The deer trails along the levee were so numerous it was like a maze.  Still, the vegetation was too thick to provide any shooting lanes.  I would have to hunt off a tree in the creek bed nearby.

I fought my way back through the rub filled thicket twice to get my climbing stand.  Which tree?  The next hour was spent walking up and down the dried up creek squatting to deer height to see which tree provided the best shooting lanes.  Of course the tree that would have been my choice was covered in bumps and was sitting in the broad open with no cover to conceal me against the skyline.  My only option was a tree that was slightly crooked on the opposite bank where the poison ivy was plentiful, but the brush and smaller trees from that levee would help to conceal my outline.  I locked my stand on the tree and made my way back to the car placing reflective tacks in the trees as I went.

My intentions were to give it a few days before hunting.  I had tromped through here four times now, but the next day brought cooler temps and I couldn't keep myself out of the woods.  I arrived early and took my time creeping to my stand.  By 3:30 pm I was all settled in.  For the next two hours I saw nothing.  I started thinking I should have waited a few days as I had planned.  If only I could just see something, even something I wouldn't shoot at.  Snap!  Behind me to my right a twig snapped.  I slowly turned to take a look.  One leg and one side of his antlers was all I could make out.  Four points on that side so he was legal- could it be an 8-point?  My heart was pounding harder as I started the slow process of raising my bow.   I kept telling myself, "Don't mess this up, move slow."  The cat whiskers on my bow were bouncing so bad I was afraid he would see them.  I was shaking like a leaf.  He was getting closer and my heart was threatening to jump right out of my chest.  Several times I had to remind myself to breath.  Could I do this?  His head went behind a tree and I drew my bow.  A few more steps and he was mine.

With such a bad case of the shakes, my bow jumped slightly forward on me.  I immediately caught it and brought it back to full draw.  The next time I looked through the peep, there was no peep.  My release had slid down my string about 3 inches when I lost my hold.  There he was 35 yards away and getting closer.  I couldn’t shoot, nor could I ease off with him that close, so I sat there at full draw knowing I had lost my chance.  A minute or so later he headed back to the rub filled thicket.  I eased off- BOINK!  My arrow fell out of my bow and hit the ground below me.  I was so disappointed in myself.

I grabbed another arrow and knocked, then hit my grunt call a few times.  Chance blown, I settled down and pulled a coke from my pack.  A few minutes later I put the coke top back on and pulled my facemask back up.  SNAP!  There he was again coming right back to the same place, fighting limbs and small trees on his way.  My heart picked up where it had left off and I went right back to shaking like a leaf.  I drew and waited again.  This time he got to within 30 yards and I released.  I saw the arrow hit, he spun and ran up the levee.  And I thought I had the shakes before!  I was such a wreck I managed to kick my quiver out of the stand.  My bow wasn't doing me much good now, so I lowered it to the ground. 

Waiting is the hardest part.  I've heard it's best to wait for an hour so you don't jump wounded game and take a chance on losing a blood trail.  An hour, goodness, the last few minutes had seemed like an hour, this was going to be torture.  I pulled out my cell phone to try and call my dad.  I knew I would need his help to drag and load my deer.  Only two bars- not enough of a signal to get out.  Ok, wait, wait, wait.  What could I do for an hour?  I grabbed my binoculars and tried to find my arrow.  No luck.  Wait some more…. SNAP!  Straight ahead of me I see a doe and fawn walking towards me.  They came to within 10 feet of the base of the tree I was on.  With half my gear scattered on the ground below me, they never suspected my presence.  While watching them something else caught my eye, another deer following behind them.  This was a spike, but something had him wary of coming any closer.  Eventually they all quietly slipped away.  Thirty-five minutes had passed.  Fifteen more was all I could handle.  It would be dark soon, and I wanted to find my deer. On the ground, my heart sank.  No arrow, no blood, no exit wound.  I slowly walked the path I thought he had taken on his retreat.  Pulled out my cell phone and called my dad.  His words were even more disheartening, but he was coming to help look.  It would take him at least 40 minutes so I continued to look.  One spot of blood was all it took to lift my spirits.  I marked it with toilet paper and headed to the car.

We searched with lanterns and flashlights for a couple of hours.  One more drop of blood was all we found.  Tired and cold, we decided to look again in the morning. I did a lot of praying all night that I would find my deer the next day.  The events of the evening playing through my head over and over kept me awake.  I knew I had a good hit.  He couldn't have gone far. The next day we found more blood.  I stayed with it, on my hands and knees turning over leaves, and hanging toilet paper as I went. My dad followed obvious deer trails ahead of the blood trail.  A couple of hours later with only 30 yards of blood trail marked, the trail was gone.  No more blood.  I knew my dad had lost hope, and I was too although I was fighting it still hoping a few yards away I would find another drop.

 "I keep smelling something when I walk by here," my dad said.  I walked to where he was standing about 10 yards away.  "Smells like a water moccasin," I said.  Curiosity got the best of me and I had to look for the snake.  Walking around a brush pile, something caught my eye through the thicket on my right.  First thought was that it was a trash bag in the creek bed.  I almost didn't go look.  Stepping through the thicket watching for the snake I was quickly forgetting about I saw my buck laying about 30 yards away.  Luck, pure luck!  "Here he is!" I shouted as I ran to it.  "What?" my dad yelled back.  "It's a 7 point! I found him!" I yelled even louder.  I don't remember much of what was said after that.  My head was in the clouds, I couldn't believe it.  I had taken a buck with my bow, my first kill with a bow, and the best part was I did it all by myself.  Until my dad came to help blood trail he had never stepped foot in these woods.  I found the spot, picked the best tree, hung my stand, hunted this area, and taken my buck.  I did it!