The Fever.
This is the story of how I caught the fever. Some people won't believe me and will say that I asked for it or walked in to it with my arms wide open. Others laugh it off like they think my interest in deer hunting is nothing more than the equivalent of their fantasy football league. I cant debate it because i've never done fantasy, but my dreams have been haunted by the crunch of leaves lately. This is no fantasy, it is real. The shadows really move and the shifting wind keeps me up at night. I say it proudly now like i’ve made it through, I beat it, I am immune now. But as I flick the remote, I know i'm kidding myself. I know that he is still there in the same places i've seen him. Down behind the inside edge of the swamp, or up near the top of the hill hiding in the tangled thicket along the margin of the field, or traveling the hill looking for acorns or a heated lover. I have seen his fresh scrapes, and I know he’ll be there again. I could be there now instead of on my couch watching TV. At this moment I realize I still have it, and it is not beaten, but only growing stronger. This story starts with a bike ride and a garage sale with my family in August, and ends with a burning fever. It is not all terrible, at least not yet, I mean there are some low times, but my belly is full of fresh venison, I have a new trophy on the wall, and the next deer season is fast approaching.
I didn't think i’d find anything, but I got off my bike and took a look for the usual old tackle box that can be a goldmine if you get lucky. But fishing tackle wasn't in the cards today. I immediately saw the case laying open on the ground, and knelt down to investigate the bow. It was a compound but it looked like a recurve, and I drew it back and then slowly let it down, hoping it wouldn't jerk my arm off, and it didn't. It was smooth and strong. My wife laughed and said that it was the last thing I needed. I told her that bows were pretty expensive and this might get me started pretty cheap. She reminded me of how wrong I was when I convinced her that I would save money by learning to tie my own own flies. She’s only right some of the time. I didn’t need another time consuming and expensive hobby, but I do have a weakness for adventure, challenge, and anything that gets me outdoors, so I took a picture of the Oneida Eagle logo and then we rode on. Later at home, I looked it up online and realized that for $150 it was a decent price and pretty good bow from the reviews. It was even made in Michigan! I drove back over there and picked it up for $125. Now I was an archer and I liked the sound of that.
Figuring out what arrows to buy was like taking a physics class, I was a bit overwhelmed. I scoured amazon reviews, and watched a bunch of youtube, and realized I needed 30” arrows that were made of carbon and between 350 and 400 grains. I ordered them on amazon prime happy about my 2 day shipping deal and my credit card points, then a few days later when they didn't arrive I realized that I didn't click on prime when I ordered so I had to wait 2 more weeks until they arrived. So I ordered some other ones making sure to click the prime slider when searching this time. These arrived in 2 days...but they were 32” long!!! Wtf! So more youtubing on how to cut arrows. Jeesh. I couldn't wait to shoot the darn bow and see if it even worked. After cracking my first arrow I said forget it, and just glued the inserts in and started shooting long arrows. I figured that a spear flies straighter than a dart so how much could it hurt. I bought an expensive black hole target on the advice of a friend who insisted that I shouldn't get a cheap one. This turned out to be good advice, I think. I was hitting the target with my long arrows, and I had bruises up and down the inside of my arm. I would learn how to correct this very quickly. I was having fun and the bow was going to work. I was sure I could shoot a deer with it. If not, shooting the target was fun enough. I had a tight group before long, and made the proper adjustments to my sight. Now I was hitting the black hole! I had a fun new hobby for the backyard and vague dreams of what thrills I might get from hunting with a bow.
October 1st came fast, and I was ready. By 6am I was sitting on the ground in a new blind my son and I built a few days earlier, not far from where I shot a small buck last year with my shotgun. It was a nice open v shaped spot we found inside of a fallen tree near a bedding area. I could sit on the ground and lean up against a nice solid tree limb about 8 inches in diameter right in the middle of my back. It was comfortable and provided the necessary cover with good open shooting lanes forward and to my left. I was facing north looking downhill over an open hardwood forest floor that sloped down to a swamp with a narrow path of high ground that split right through the middle of it. The swamps and path that bisected them were about 100 yards downhill directly in front of me. It was a natural deer funnel, and I quickly realized I was in a great spot when I saw a group of does pass downhill towards the swamp from their bedding area on top of the hill behind me. They were too far off but I noticed my heart start beating faster. It passed. Along time passed, and I got bored and started fumbling with my phone. It was a classic case of not being ready, he walked right up behind me and before I heard the crunch of his feet on the leaves, he was 10 yards behind me, about 5 feet uphill. I slowly turned around and got on my knees. Of course like any rookie my bow was not in my hand. As the buck approached downhill at an angle, he passed behind two trees and I had a chance to grab my bow and then draw it. But when my eyes focused inside of my peep sight I realized he had turned straight towards me and was looking me straight in the eyes at 15 feet. I was trembling and could barely discern one pin from three as they danced around in the circle focused on his chest. I flicked the trigger on my release and my arrow was flying. Almost immediately my arrow hit a branch, deflected into the ground, and broke in two. The deer looked at me for just a second after I shot then turned and ran back up the hill, with his tail high and white. I realized it was a bad decision to shoot at that angle and I felt lucky to have hit the branch. I also just realized that I just blew a chance on the biggest buck i’d ever seen. I should have just sat still and let him walk by me into my shooting lane. These would be the first and second lessons of what would become an epic bowhunting season. I wanted another chance. Would mother nature give me a redo. I would be there tomorrow and I would be ready. Brutus and his 12 points were gonna be mine. I didn't know it then but this was the beginning of the fever that still burns.
I would spend another 48 hours in those woods sitting in various spots on the ground between the swamp and the top of the hill before I finally broke the fever and harvested this 10 pointer. There were a few days when I gave up after seeing nothing for 4 hours, but most days I saw deer. Often they were too far off, or a couple times I had does come in close but I got busted. On one outing I had the pleasure of studying a yearling doe that walked in within a foot of me and sniffed my boots then spent 30 minutes rooting through the leaves for acorns 5 to 10 feet away. The stillness of my mind and breath during this beautiful warm afternoon, along with the innocence and beauty off that small deer that lingered with me for so long created a zen that I hope to find again someday . It was only interrupted when I had the urge to shift my weight to the other cheek that wasn't already numb from staying still so long. I noticed my bow was laying across my lap and bouncing. In trying to remain as still as possible I found myself trembling. My arrow and broadhead were sticking straight out from between my knees toward the deer bouncing up and down like a metronome on warp speed. If the deer noticed she didn't seem to mind it. I held still shaking for another ten minutes after she left just in case her parents were following behind, but they never did emerge. One day I won’t ever forget was when after three hours of watching squirrels and listening to the MSU- OSU football game, an 8 point came charging out of the thick swamp and ran up the hill and stopped 20 yards in front of me behind a fallen tree trunk. A few seconds later an even larger buck came charging out of the swamp after it and ran it off then turned around staring at the swamp. Just then, like the deer was expecting it, a third deer, Brutus, came out and locked all 12 points with the second buck. They grappled a minute and in between the thrusts and rattles of antlers the second deer broke loose and immediately turned tail and ran up the hill right past me. It was just me and Brutus and one big tree trunk separating us. I called him Brutus because the Buckeyes crushed us that day and I was sure he was the same buck I missed on opening day so I figured he deserved a name since i’d had two close encounters with the beast. I thought maybe this was the redo i’d been hoping for and maybe it would be a little revenge for sparty too! I sat still with my heart racing, and remained ready to strike if I had an opening. Brutus followed the angle of the fallen tree slowly uphill, stopping every few feet to raise his nose to sniff the crisp air. I could see his big head and full rack as he walked behind the tree that hovered a foot off the ground, but his body was concealed, and would continue to be until he would emerge at the end of the tree where it branched out into hundreds of tiny branches making any shot impossible. Maybe he would circle back around toward the swamp and give me a shot. He went the opposite direction quartering uphill away from me behind the tree. I had no shot and was almost too overcome with amazement and awe to even contemplate shooting as I had just witnessed an act that most will never ever see with their own eyes. My muscles were tight and I felt the adrenaline pulsing through my veins with an intensity unlike anything i've ever experienced.
I was loving my time in the woods, and felt lucky to have witnessed so much action, but I was starting to feel like i’d blown all of my closest chances and I might not get it done before gun season which was only 3 days away. I would have been happy with a doe. I tried to stay positive and thought about the all the times fishing when it was raining or cold or I was tired and wanted to give up but didn't. I remember telling myself you can't catch a fish if your line isn't wet. I would just have to put in my time and it would happen eventually. I remembered the time I stayed for that last hour of daylight on a cold rainy day on the Pere Marquette after being skunked all afternoon, only to be rewarded on the thousandth cast with a fresh bright steelhead. Or when after trying everything in the box for picky bass you pull out that old purple bass stopper that rests deep in the bottom tangled, and you get rewarded after nothing else worked. That’s one thing about the outdoors that I love, the thing that keeps me coming back out is that anything can happen and you never know what’s gonna happen. I lifted my head and told myself maybe tomorrow would be my lucky day.
It turned out that November 12 was my lucky day. I spent the morning in a different spot near the top of the hill where the woods got thick and tangled and joined a hay field. This was were the deer were bedding down. This was were they would pass when they went to feed on acorns in the open woods heading down to the swamp where they would drink. I figured out there was a line of scrapes heading straight down the hill and I was sitting just 10 yards from this line and the wind was in my favor. I saw deer at the bottom of the hill in front of the high ground trail that bisects the swamps. There were more than 10 deer that passed through the swamp trail and I was getting frustrated watching them. After a couple hours passed and the herd had moved on I decided to move and make a ground blind for tomorrow when I would be waiting for them.
I stretched, put my arrow back in the quiver, ate my sandwich, and then moved downhill where I began stacking branches and brush. While I was making a big rukus breaking branches and dragging logs I saw some does emerge 50 yards in front of me between the swamps. I quickly knelt down to grab my bow and ducked behind the cover of my half finished blind. I had to knock an arrow because I thought I was done for the day. As I was staring at the does I catch a glimpse out of the corner of my eye of a deer running from behind me towards the herd of does. I realized it was a buck and as he passed behind two large trees 20 yards in front of me I rose to my feet and drew. The buck took 2 steps forward from behind the tree exposing his broadside and then stopped. He did not see me and was staring straight forward toward the does. I found his front leg instantly in my sight and followed it directly up to where it joined the chest. I flicked the trigger before I could think twice about it. As my arrow flew I could see its arc and I saw the bright green fletching disappear into the thick fur. The beast bucked up and kicked its hind legs back. It bounded into the swamp where it tore a path through the thick tangle of cattails and water. I lost sight of it but followed the violent crashing sound to its end. The sensation of victory flowed through my pumping veins and each breath of air felt lighter and lighter. I stood there shaking for 10 minutes before I set my bow down and began to realize I had done it finally and it happened when I least expected it, but I was sure of my shot and knew I had a clean hit. I would wait for 90 minutes of pure glory and anticipation before moving from from my spot to find him. I called a lot of friends and family while I waited and snapped a picture of where I shot him. 
After a few moments of reverence and thankfulness I got to work kneeling in six inches of water. Dragging him out of the swamp and up the hill was one of the most grueling acts I have ever undertaken but one that I wanted to do by myself. After a 1/4 mile and over an hour later I had the deer in the truck and was heading home to hang it. After hanging for a night I began the processing. I really enjoy this part and take pride in using everything I can. Each deer I have harvested I learn to use more and do a better job at it. This is my first archery deer and biggest buck ever so I wanted to make trophy for my wall. I tanned the hide using an alum powder and water soak for 3 weeks. I strung the hide to a frame to dry it. Now i'm using last years fur for tying flies and keeping this one for memories.
I removed the skin from the deer head and then buried it in my garden for 8 months. I dug it up 2 weeks ago and could not believe how clean it was. The worms and bugs did a great job. I sprayed it off with the hose and it is remarkably clean. After 2 coats of 40% hydrogen peroxide cream mixture ($15 on amazon) and a piece of wood I got at hobby lobby ($7) I have a trophy on my wall that i'm proud of.
The pursuit, processing, eating, and displaying of this animal has been one of the best experiences of my life. Every time I look at it I get to relive those intense moments of the hunt, and relish the meals i’ve shared with my family and friends, and think about the next time i’ll get to tell this story to another hunter. Brutus is still out there, the fever still burns, and a new hunting season will soon be upon us.
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