Greg Gearhart
10/05/02 First Day of Archery
It was 70 degrees outside my back door at 4:00 this morning. I met Tim and Jim Davis at Kmart in Enola and we headed to a farm in Perry County. I was planning to hunt the stand that Paul and I had setup in the Garbage Hollow and Tim and Jim were headed back to the ground blind from which ‘Jake the 140 class' had been spotted on last year's opener.
Despite the fact that I had a fairly short walk into my stand, I was pouring off sweat by the time I arrived at the stand and had to stop for a few minutes just to cool down before climbing the tree. Once up on the stand, I liberally applied the Scent Shield spray, but have to admit that my main thought about this day was that it would probably just be a nice opening day sit on the stand because no reasonably intelligent deer was going to get within half a mile of a guy who had been sweating as much as me. After settling into the stand, I still had to wait about 15 minutes for my glasses to stop steaming.
This stand is located about half way down a hollow that we call the ‘Garbage Hollow' because there used to be a farmer's dump at the head of the hollow, although that was covered over a year or two ago. The entire property consists of a high plateau like field area that drops off abruptly down a wooded hillside that is actually one side hill of a long hollow with a small stream at the bottom that feeds out into a larger stream. All along this edge are smaller hollows that lead down the hillside into the bottom of the big hollow and the Garbage Hollow is one of these. These little hollows were formed by even smaller streams, but usually have no running water. The area was timbered a few years ago and is now very thick. My stand is on the left side (if you were standing at the top facing down from the field) and close to the middle of the hollow where a good run crosses over and starts up the other side. The stand faces up the hollow with runs passing by in all directions, so I was periodically changing position to check each direction.
A few minutes before 9:00, I had shifted to my left and was watching the trail that runs straight up along the bottom of the hollow when I heard some twigs snapping on the hillside above me to the right. It sounded like a deer and I was afraid to turn and look because it sounded close. I slowly turned my head and saw that the buck had already passed by my stand and was angling down toward the bottom of the hollow, but he was walking a little above the main run and there were no shot openings. In fact, he stopped and stood broadside for a few seconds in a spot that I remembered from the day we had setup the stand; I remembered thinking that it would be a good spot to cut out a shooting lane, but it was late in the day and we were already hot and tired and this spot was not on the main run, so I didn't do it. Now, the deer was standing right on that spot and, to make matters worse, that was right about where I had walked through on the way in. He had his head down and appeared to be sniffing the ground. I thought, "I'm busted now. In a second he'll be headed back the way he came." Well, I picked up a set of rubber boots on the bargain rack earlier this year and they must work because, after a few seconds, he continued on his way and had now moved onto the main run and was headed for my shot lane right off the front of my stand at about 20 yards. Another purchase I made this year is one of those hands free grunt calls that clips on to your clothes and has a rubber tube so that you can use it while both hands are on the bow. After I'd been on the stand a while this morning, I realized that I had forgotten to get that thing out; I started to think about all the stuff that I carry into the woods and whether or not it's all worth it and having to dig through my pack for the thing and I almost decided to forget it for the day, but I finally got it out. I was happy for that decision now as I quickly stuffed the rubber tube into my mouth and drew my bow as the buck passed behind the last patch of brush before stepping into my shooting lane. He was almost through the lane when I hit the grunt one time and he stopped. I'm not really sure if the grunt stopped him or if he just decided to pause for a moment before jumping across the bottom and heading up the other side. But, either way, it was long enough to touch off the shot.
I saw the arrow hit a little high and he was immediately over the bottom and heading up the other side. As I mentioned, this area is very thick and I could not see the deer, but I could follow his progress by watching the brush shaking. It reminded me of one of those scenes from Jurassic Park in which you knew the dinosaurs were coming because the trees were shaking, but you couldn't see them. Instead of heading straight up the other side and away, he was making a circle around me and was now directly off my left. At one point there was some extra shaking and I was hopeful that this meant he was going down. When I later backtracked his trail, I found a spot where it looked like he had fallen. After another second or two, I saw, through a small hole in the tree branches, his white belly sliding down the other side of the hollow and then everything was still. I waited another few minutes, but I was sure he was down for good, so I lowered my gear and got down from the stand. I only had to take a few steps before I could see him lying on the other side.
One thing that I didn't mention earlier is that, when I got my first glimpse of the deer his head was partially concealed by brush and I thought he might not meet the antler restrictions. Just a second later, when I saw that he had a pretty wide spread and long main beams, I was sure he was a shooter. But, when he went down, he had slid quite a way down the hill and his head was bent down to the ground and some of his rack was covered by leaves and dirt. As I approached him now, I could only see two points on a side and I thought, ‘Oh no, is he just a really big four point?" But I soon discovered that he is a solid six point with a 12 ½ inch inside spread.
I went back to the stand, packed up, and took my gear back to the truck. I had been trying to contact Tim and Jim on the radio for some time without success. I left a note on the car and started back to get the deer. I made brief contact with them while I was in the field, but I don't think I got much through to them.
Back in the hollow I had some difficulty gutting him because of the steep hillside he was on; at one point I was trying to hold a front hoof out of the way and it slip out and whacked me on the head. Shortly, Tim and Jim showed up. I had already started to drag and was now on the stand side of the hollow. I took a break from dragging and gave them a tracking lesson by showing them where the shot took place and having them follow the blood trail. When I first found the deer, I started to backtrack the blood trail and found the back half of the arrow at the top of the hill. It was blood covered and must have been pulled through while he ran or during the slide; we looked for the broadhead end, but couldn't find it.
After that we started the drag up the steep hillside; the distance isn't that long, but it's very steep and we were worn out by the time we got to the top. I left them just inside the woods and went for the truck, which I drove to the curve in the road in order to load the deer. After a few pictures, I headed home to decide the best way to get this deer processed as quickly as possible since it was around 80 degrees.
Well, there's more I'd like to say, but that's all I have time for now. As one of my good friends says, "I don't like to over spiritualize things", but I do give God the praise for bringing this deer my way.
Greg Gearhart
Chair, Olive Mount Bowhunters