As a long-time deer hunter, conditions matter to me. While I have a lazy moment now and again, I try and consider the main variables involved with bowhunting whitetails and stick to the script. On the rare days when many of them are in my favor, I’m stoked. It’s pretty hard to keep me out of the field. I had such a day back in late November.
The high was a comfortable 60-degrees and the cool moderate breeze steadily hit me in the face. For Texas hunters, you can’t be greedy. Conditions like these are considered to be pretty good.
I got in my ground blind extra early – a setup with ideal entry and exit routes.
“All I’m going to have to do is not miss the shot”, my confident ego chimed. This rutty afternoon was headed for success. I could feel it.
Facing due west, my sit started at 2:30. With little action for the first hour, things go interesting when a nice 8-point came into view about 50-yards out. He stared my way intently, which puzzled me. He then milled around for a few minutes and slowly, but intentionally exited to my south. With a lot of time left in the hunt and anticipation high, the buck vanished from my antler-soaked mind.
The bottom of the 4:00 hour brought in a bevy of deer and by 5:00, I had seen 5 different bucks, obviously in seeking mode. A tall-tined 9-point was the only buck of the bunch I considered shooting. After all, there would be more to come – and remember, all I’d have to do is make the shot. I was feeling pretty good. With a few known shooters in the area, I settled in for the last few minutes of daylight.
With all but one of the bucks now gone, a group of 3 does appeared, increasing my anticipation and optimism. At the peak of the rut, surely one of them would draw a mature buck. And maybe they would have…
The next thing I heard was the familiar crack of a stick or limb directly behind me. Like an amateur, I spun around in my chair and was locking eyes with the 8-point from the beginning of the hunt. At 15-yards, he had, of course, seen me clumsily turn around as if I had never hunted in my life. His loud whistle, followed by seeing his butt end disappear into the brush marked the end of an eventful afternoon of bowhunting.
There was approximately 20-minutes left of shooting light and the does were gone. The buck had obviously made the basic move that any smart old buck often makes; he had noticed something wasn’t right in my direction and had methodically worked his way downwind of me. The fact was, I hadn’t thought about the buck since he exited earlier in the afternoon. I pictured him deep in the Texas brush sharing laughs with a few fellow bucks.
The bottom line was the hunt was over.
With my confidence high and head in the clouds, the buck “J-hooked” me.
Who knows if a mature shooter would have come into range during the late moments of dusk, but thanks to my lack of focus and gluttony of overconfidence, I’ll never know. Like after missed shot, I have snapped back into the reality that bowhunting requires me to be mentally firing on all cylinders and never-NEVER get overcome by unfounded cockiness; brash certainty run amok.
I think of all the times I’ve purposefully circled around deer or a known deer area to position myself down wind of my prey. Yes, I’ve attempted to win the scent game with whitetails by “J-hooking” them. It’s become almost a natural instinct for me – so much so I forget that whitetails have always innately practiced this move, albeit as a survival tactic. Luckily, losing focus and resting on my laurels had reminded me of my place in the deer woods. For me it’s a tactic. For them, it comes naturally.
Put differently, they’re better at it than me.
A huge part of successful deer hunting comes from learning from your mistakes; or even relearning from repeated ones. I had been duped by one of the most basic tenets of deer hunting. I had failed the test my dad had prepared me for as a young deer hunter decades ago.
At least this won’t happen again. Well, until it does…
