Deep in WMA, further than I think any other hunter would go, I find myself on top of a large hill, with a clearing made from all the toppled trees. I can't really see too far, maybe 30 yards in all directions, but this spot feels right. Also, I'm not sure how much further I want to go...(I've got a wife and kid that probably want me to come home safely). So, I post up between two trees. Again, I spray some estrus urine, and toss out a couple of bleats. My position between the two trees gives me a little cover, as well as a place to rest my rifle. From time to time, I hear something moving in the woods, and set up to intercept whatever might be coming from whatever direction.
Then it happens...some saplings rustle...a couple of low grunts sound out, and a freakin bruiser comes trotting towards me out of the bush. Now, it should be noted that : A. I'm pretty inexperienced. I bagged a halfway descent buck last year, but I can't help but feel like I got lucky. B. I'm not in a stand...I'm on the ground, and there is really no way a mature buck ever gets this close to a hunter on the ground. C. My scope is off...so I have to use what is left of my iron-sights after they were wrapped in soft camo tape.
So there I was...with a monster buck twenty yards and closing (never counted the points, but I'd say at least 10), about to prove that last year wasn't a fluke, about to put 200lbs of delicious venison on the table, and about to justify all the money I've been pouring into this new passion of mine. As I clicked off the safety and raised up, with this majestic beast a mere 20 yards away, I couldn't help but think about dragging him back to the truck...so satisfied. I took a deep breath, exhaled, and woke the forest up with a shot from my 30-06.
I clicked my safety back on...so satisfied with myself as I watched him bound off into the wilderness. I just knew he was gonna crash 50, maybe 100 yards away. After a few minutes, I decided to start tracking him.
Finding where he was when I pulled the trigger was easy, there was some kicked up earth, and a trail of the same leading down the hill. Here and there, over the next couple of hours, I would find more signs here and there...but I never once saw any blood.
All I can say is...I hope I missed. I must have missed. As a side note, never, ever trust the cheap bore laser sights you can get from a retailer or online. I adjusted my scope to match what my laser read, which only messed me up in the long run. My brother put my bore sight into his rifle (which he can draw smiley faces at 100yds with), and it told him he needed lots of adjustment. I'll be taking mine back for a refund...I like to say that a good craftsman never blames his tools, but I'm pointing the finger at the laser bore sighter on this one.
I just pray that I get another shot at that bruiser...
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