I was running a little late this cold morning. I knew I could make it to my stand by daybreak, but I liked getting settled in at least 20 or 30 minutes before the sun cracked the horizon. As I pulled into my cousin Jeff’s driveway, I raced to get all my gear together, so I could shuffle down the path to the awaiting dark woods. As I approached the path I realized that it was not going to be a quiet trip to my stand. The ground was frozen, and everything was crunchy. Once I got to the spot where I had to cut off the path, and begin walking in the woods, the sounds from my steps began to amplify. After I walked about fifteen yards, I heard loud crunching and snapping up on the high part of the ridge. After stopping and listening for about a minute or two, I realized the sounds where coming from deer milling around up above me on the ridge. I realized then that I had to get to my stand quickly, and quietly. It was very possible that they were making their way along the ridge, and were going to cut down to the swamp, to bed down for the morning. If they did this, they could walk right past my stand.

It was still very dark, and it was difficult to see, but the snow on the ground helped illuminate the woods. I sat for a moment trying to figure out how I was going to get to my stand quickly with out making any noise. I then noticed that there were random patches of bare ground where the snow had melted. Although the snow was very crunchy, and some of it actually icy, the bare spots were rather quiet to walk on. I then decided that the only way to my stand quietly, was going to be using these patches of bare ground.

I began to stretch towards any bare spot that I could find. It was almost like playing the worlds largest game of Twister. I would find myself going side to side, sometimes towards the top of the ridge, instead of in a straight line. I began to panic, and I started to rush my steps, “crunch”, crack, went the ice and snow under my boots. I was trying to decide what was more important, speed or stealth. After several loud crunches, I stopped and listened, to see if the deer had heard me, and had stopped their morning shuffle in the snow. Like music to my ears, I could hear them crunching along with no hesitation. It also sounded like they were moving parallel with me just over the top of the ridge. I knew now that at any moment they could cut over the rock wall towards the open hillside that I was trying to navigate through.

I only had about 80 yards to go. I started leaping to the bare spots almost running at times. Somehow, someway I made it to my stand without killing myself. I didn’t even stop to listen for the deer. I hooked my bow up to the string that I used to hoist it up the tree, and I climbed to my stand.

            I pulled my bow up, and hung my quiver just as the sky was starting to crack. Before I could even control my breathing, I heard “crack” right above me on the hillside. The deer were right above me. If I had wasted one more minute, getting into my stand, they would have busted me for sure. It couldn’t have been any closer. I had a lot more work ahead of me, but at least had I won the race.

            Knowing that the deer was less than 80 yards from me, but unable to be seen, my legs started shaking, and the adrenaline started flowing. The deer had stopped at the top of the hill and I could feel it surveying the open woods that lied in front of it.

Almost as if it was waiting for the lights to come on, the deer proceeded down the hill once the sun began to light up the woods. I got my eyes fixed on the sound of the walking deer, to see that it was a young six point buck, possibly the one that had walked right under my stand a few nights before. I watched him slowly make his way down the hill, right towards my stand. He proceeded to walk about 20 yards directly in front of me, and then cut right towards my stand. I realized that he was going to walk right past me and into the well used trail that entered the swamp. Although I was not planning on shooting this deer,( I had already harvested a small six pointer on opening day), I just had this feeling that there was another one with him.

            As the six pointer walked almost under my stand into the woods, I kept my eyes and ears on the top of the hill where the six pointer had come from. If there was a big buck with him, he could be waiting for the young buck to make it safely to the swamp, like his own personal guinea pig. About the time the six pointer made its way into the swamp, I simultaneously heard a snap and saw movement at the top of the hill. My entire body started to shake. My heart started beating like a drum. I knew this was not another small buck or a doe coming down, I knew it was a big mature buck.

Before I could even begin to try and compose myself, I saw the big light tan rack shining in the sun. I literally started to crumble. It was a huge ten point buck. The biggest deer I had yet to see in the woods. As he started to make his way down the hill, I realized he was taking the same path as the six pointer. This meant that if he continued, he was going to walk right past my stand…LESS THAN 7 YARDS! I really started to lose it at this point. I could see the entire deer now in the wide open woods. He was massive.

I could not compose myself, I was frozen with fear. I thought for sure that this buck was going to bust me. He wasn’t making his way down the hill in the steady pace that the six pointer had. He was creeping along, stopping, and smelling the air. That son of a bitch and his instincts. Every time he stopped, I could see him putting his nose in the air. I just sat in fear waiting for him to turn and look right at me, and then disappear never to be seen again. But he didn’t. He kept making his way down the hill, closer and closer and closer. He was massive, full of composure and stature, and I was a trembling idiot up in a tree.

            There he stood, twenty five yards directly in front of me, right where the six pointer had stood about fifteen minutes prior (although it felt like and hour ago). I did everything I could not to look at him in the eye. I could not draw my bow back, there was no way. He would have seen me, and he was also quartering towards me, plus I knew he was going to walk right past my stand.

I saw that there was a big pine tree that he was going to walk behind, just before he would be broadside seven yards next to my stand. I figured this would be the perfect time for me to draw back my bow. Once his head was behind that tree, I would draw back, then as soon as he took two more steps, bang I would let the arrow fly, and I would have my dream buck lying on the ground. As the deer stood in front of me, deciding on what it’s next move was going to be, I stood with my bow right in front of my face, hopefully to break up my outline a bit. I had my release hooked on to my string, and I was ready to draw back at a moments notice, and then it happened.

            Everyone has moments in their lives, good or bad, that they never forget, moments that are life changing and some that for some reason are just painful to recollect. This is one that hurts inside, every time I think of it, and is even more painful to write about.

            As I stood shaking in anticipation for what was about to take place, I suddenly watched in horror and disbelief as my arrow popped off of the bow string, hit my tree stand and fell to the ground below me. My heart just sank. I remember saying literally out loud in a whisper to myself, “that did not just happen”.

I watched as the deer snapped its’ head over to where it had heard the foreign sound, with full attention. As it starred at the base of my tree, I knew it was over. I was sick. I couldn’t believe that had just happened. If I didn’t have false hope of still grabbing an arrow and getting a shot off, I would have just broke down and cried right there. With the huge deer staring right in my direction, less than twenty yards away, I could not reach for another arrow or move any muscle. I waited for him to slowly turn and walk away, and I then desperately grabbed for another arrow. I watched the huge buck slowly walk out of bow range, occasionally looking back in my direction. He didn’t see me, he didn’t smell me, he just knew something wasn’t right. In one last desperate attempt I pulled out my grunt tube and began doing my best imitation of a challenging buck. I had hoped that maybe his curiosity would get the better of him, but I also knew that they don’t get that big because they take chances.

As he took each step further away from me, my insides crushed a little more. I was truly sick to my stomach. I wasn’t mad or angry, I was just sick.

            As I stood, still in disbelief, I heard a crack next to my stand. There was the six pointer standing under me. He had either heard the grunting or was wondering where his much smarter friend was.

            In my whole life I had never had an arrow fall off of my bow while I was hunting, and I had never had a buck that big standing within bow range. Unfortunately these two firsts had to collide with each other at the same moment, taking away an incredible opportunity to take a buck of a lifetime.

            Well, that’s huntin’ I guess.