Triple Arrow Threesome!
Hunches are beautiful things! Never underestimate a spontaneous, knee-jerk instinctual hunch when it comes to making a hunting decision on the fly.
I had just hosted a killer weekend with my good friends and American deerhunting compadres Dan Schmidt, editor of Deer and Deer Hunting magazine and respected, legendary outdoor writer Bob Robb on our sacred Michigan family deergrounds.
Walking and hunting this historical wildlife paradise each and every day I figured I knew the lay of the land and deer movement patterns as good as a human could, so I set Dan and Bob up on the best of the best ambush locations for their short three day hunt.
We all know about the dreaded October lull, but our hopes soared on high nonetheless and backstrap dreams ran strong.
Dan was able to connect beautiful arrows on two trophy antlerless deer and Bob passed up on some little guys while I arrowed a pair of big old swampdonkys to add to the larder.
I certainly had hoped the guys could have connected on our famous old monarch stags, but alas, it was not meant to be and the roll of the deerhunting dice will always be the roll of the deerhunting dice.
Bidding farewell and good hunting to my friends, I woke up a bit weary the next morning and forced myself out of bed not having the faintest idea where I would bowhunt this fine October morning. On a hunch of hunches, I broke paradigm and walked off to the untapped North Ridge slope overlooking the big sawgrass marshlands and settled in an old ladderstand we call the Ethan Whiskar ladder. Named after a great man who happened to video another hunch hunt years ago where we arrowed a dandy mature stag on the first sit here, I figured I could at least look over the area and take notes for future ambushes as the season throttles on.
Self-filming the always stimulating first light, I captured killer Spirit of the Wild footage of sandhill cranes squawking overhead, skeins of honking geese and some angry crows raising morning hell with a redtail hawk over the picturesque swampscape.
With the advantage of my hearing aids, I picked up faint rustling to the west and glanced a big doe browsing my way through the tangles of thorny puckerbrush at swamps edge.
Like a sneaky predator, I slowly brought the vidcam into play, gripped my Mathews, and when the old girl paused at 30 yards my arrow arched beautifully in and out of her crease that I owned, and off she death-scrambled into the reeds!
OhBOY! That was as thrilling as thrilling gets!
I sat there celebrating this out of body magic for all it is worth, nocked another arrow and lived the perfect moment to the maxx!
Would you believe that in the next hour, the exact same scenario unfolded twice again, much to my delight, and when the swampdust settled, I had three beautiful whitetail does with three beautiful arrows straight through the pumpstations dead in my little patch of heaven.
To celebrate the phenom to the hilt, I recruited my best hunting buddies, Happy the Catahoula, Sadie the yellow lab and Coco the K9 hunting maniac German Shepherd to assist in the always exciting bloodtrailing chores.
And that they did, with aplomb. The bloodtrails were extremely easy to decipher, but watching the dogs work made it all that much more fun and gratifying.
Hunting buddy Jim Knapp videoed the whole shooting match for some magical Ted Nugent Spirit of the Wild TV, and the morning resonated with the ultimate joys of photographing, dragging, loading, gutting, hanging, cleaning, hosing, draining, hugging, admiring, celebrating, and hanging into the Polar King cooler for ultimate tablefare aging my dreamy she-deer threesome.
They say lightning doesn’t strike twice, but over the years the Good Lord has provided me numerous triple bow and arrow lightning strikes and the resultant electricity ignites my soul beyond measure.