Again?

Before I begin this post I want to share a website I quickly created. You can find a sampling of pictures I have taken over the last year organized in an inviting format. I have found that the website looks best on a computer rather than a mobile device but can certainly be accessed on either. Thanks

http://iowawor.wix.com/----


         I had taken the deer from the last post on a Thursday, New Year's Eve, and had to go back to school Monday morning. I felt relieved to be able to tag a deer, but I certainly did not think I had a chance to tag a second. On Saturday my Dad and I headed back into the field knowing that this was the last day I would hunt because I was not planning on hunting Sunday. It was cold, one of the coldest of the winter at that point but my dad and I had a plan. I was going to go stand on top of a hill where he might push deer to me on the way to his sitting spot. If I did not see anything I was then going to go walk around nearly the entire property hoping to bump something to my Father. I stood at the top of the hill constantly alert for a pair of ears to break the horizon on a dead sprint towards me... that did not happen, but I did see deer, half a mile away. I saw them trotting across an empty field and down into the creek bed that I had seen the deer that I shot two days ago, only these deer were not only a long ways from that spot but on a different property. I thought that it was possible that the deer would get into the timber and funnel there way down towards either my dad, who was sitting far away on that creek bed, or that I might see them when I had waited the allotted time for my Father to get into position.

         After about 30 minutes of standing there unprotected from the wind and cold I began my long journey around the property. I could not shake the idea that those deer could possibly be moving along the lengthy draw and that I might intercept them and so all of my senses were on high alert. I moved down the hill and entered the timber on the opposite side of the creek from where the deer most likely would be and sure enough the deer stood there 150 yards away unaware of my presence moving in the field opposite of me from my right. Looking back at what happened next I cannot believe how fortunate I was. I realized that the deer, four of them in total, were about to move behind a large amount of brush that stood between us, that was my opportunity. I closed the distance in half being quite loud trying to make my way through the snow-covered forest floor. The first of the deer moved past the brush and I raised my gun, she looked my way sort of suspiciously but not spooked. I moved to my right a little bit to where a tree about 10 inches in diameter stood. I could see all of the deer but only one of them provided a clear shooting lane. I rested the gun on the trunk, steadied the crosshairs directly behind deer's front shoulders and squeezed the trigger. In the moments after the smoke cleared I saw that the deer seemed to have been taken back by the force of something unnatural and she began running earlier than the other deer. These two signs made me feel confident that the deer had been hit. It is hard to explain but subtle clues such as these allow someone with just a little bit of deer hunting experience such as I, to make a well-educated guess on the shot. The part that worried me was that as the deer ran up the hill I could not distinguish the deer I had shot at from the others. None of them appeared to be injured. Then I saw it, after running about 60 yards the deer stopped and one of them fell over.

         I crossed the creek and could see the deer laying motionless in the snow in the middle of the field. I followed the heavy, bright red blood trail to the deer (which indicates a lung shot) and walked up to the dead doe thankful to have been able to harvest such a great animal in an ethical way, just as the last. I took a moment to thank both this deer and the Lord for providing this animal as meat and memories. This deer was much larger than the last and so I was glad my dad was there to help get her out of here. I called my dad who was several hundred yards away and asked if I should finish the drive. He said yes and so I tagged the deer, laid my gun and coat across her chest, for I was tagged out and walked the perimeter to him. Along the way I saw two decent bucks but they did not follow the script towards my father. When I met with him I was eager to share another successful hunt with him. Although I was very thankful to have the experience of hunting alone, I was excited to share in the camaraderie of ending a hard, yet rewarding season with him. As we walked to the deer I shared the adventure with him like I remember doing so many times before. I was taken back to a time when I was a young boy recounting every moment of a hunt to him (even if he had been standing over my shoulder the whole time). Times like these can never be forgotten.

         We field-dressed the deer together and took our gear to the car. We decided to check with one of the landowners if there was a closer entrance and he offered to let us use his ATV to get to the deer as we would have had to drag her up the same steep slope that I took the previous deer up two days ago. In many ways I was glad for the hard work that left me sweating in 15 degree weather but I certainly appreciated such a luxury as an ATV. Due to the fact that my father was with me and I shot this deer around noon, I was able to get pictures which would allow me to capture this special event forever. In reflecting on such a time as this I can see just how rewarding these two deer were after working so hard. To be able to share it with my Dad makes it that much more special as well. Anytime we are given a chance to take part in His creation, it should be treasured and not easily forgotten because these moments, these feelings can never be replicated and they leave us with a stronger connection of who we are as humans.

Hard Work Really Does Pay Off

          I realized that yesterday was the one year mark since my first post on here. A lot has occurred over the last few weeks. I am back at school in Minnesota and have class everyday again. After my last blog post I continued to go out deer hunting but my focus became hunting and not so much the photography aspect. As time left in the season began to run down I applied most of my time and effort into tagging a deer. I have to say, I spent a lot of nights in the field searching for deer, and of the first seven nights I saw a total of 3 deer, two of which are pictured in the previous post. On my eighth evening sit, eighth different place, second different farm, I finally found some deer.
   
          On my way back to the car after shooting light was gone one night I saw three figures racing across a muddy, picked corn field. The next night my dad saw the three deer again and I mentally noted this spot and when I saw them. This brings me back to my eighth night of hunting. I remember this number very well because I was so disappointed with my ability to find deer. I wondered if it was me or if I was simply running into a stretch of bad luck. I asked myself, should I even be hunting? I completely understand the frustrations of hunting, that is what makes it so rewarding. The problem was that I seemingly could not find deer in the places I always could have before.

           That eighth night, I remember sitting on my stool that I carry around, gun leaning on a short brushy tree, binoculars in hand as I scoured the surrounding fields and timber for a glimpse of antler in the brush, a slight movement, maybe the twitch of the whitetail that Iowa deer gather their name from. I sat as my shooting light dwindled from three hours, two hours, one hour. My afternoon had not started well anyways. The car I was planning on taking into the snow with its AWD had a dead battery. Forced to take my Chevy Impala (any hunter's dream vehicle) I hit the road (at least I could listen to my music in this car). With 45 minutes left in the evening's sit I saw the body of a deer running 150 yards away. My first thought was "why is this deer running? Its the first one I've seen in days and I already spooked it?" I quickly realized that the deer was moving towards me and that it had two others with it. These were the deer we had spotted previous nights and they were following the script perfectly. Tonight could be the night, but there was a deep creek bed that lay between us, would they actually cross it? After watching the deer for several minutes through thick brush, the two younger ones began to chase each other, like they wanted to scare the other.

          The next 30 seconds are a bit of a blur. The deer quickly decided to come to my side of the creek and into the field that I was set up next to. The first one stepped out and I held my scope on her but the other one came running up the bank and spooked the first. I was forced to change position in order to get a shot but they caught my movement, I knew I needed to pull the trigger quickly. Just as I focused the crosshairs on the deer's chest I hit a branch with the barrel of my muzzleloader and the deer looked at me as I squeezed. I watched the deer run a little ways and was sure she had piled up in the draw 50 yards away. I found the deer after reloading my gun and discovered I had made a perfect double lung shot, one of the most ethical shots a hunter could make, and for that I was extremely proud. My first thought was to thank the Lord who now provided me with fresh, free-range, locally grown meat for my family, and to thank the deer who became part of this food chain that we play a key role. It is not easy to explain the struggle that I feel in a moment such as this. I must come to face the fact that I have taken the life of an animal that is part of His creation, but there is also the part of me that takes joy in having the capability to use the instincts of a predator and to harvest food that does not come from a farm, slaughter house and finally a grocery store. I will know where this meat comes from and in what way it was taken care of. My second thought was to call my father. This was the first time that I would be hunting, field dressing, dragging and driving home with a deer alone, but I wanted him to be a part of it as we have shared so many similar moments.

           I noticed in the difficult work following the hunt just how great my appreciation for this deer and the species it belongs to had become. I dragged the deer through the snow, up to the top of the highest hill on the property as I stood under a star-filled sky an hour after sunset. Living in the city I had not seen such a beautiful sky in such a long time and every time I would stop to get my breath back I looked up and quickly regained my strength. I do not tell this story in order to explain the gory details that happen during a hunt, but because I discover something inside of me that traces back thousands of years within humans,  which is the connection with nature. I am not saying an animal has to die for one to experience this because I of all people would know that is not the case, but that New Year's Eve on which this hunt occurred I felt like I belonged somewhere in The Circle of Life.