Living in Huntsville offers a little shorter hunting season compared to most deer hunting to the south of us. Once Dec 15/ 2010 had passed, I thought that was it. I had come to grips with the fact that 2010 just wasn’t my year. Well, that would all change after getting a call from Al Cavers.
Here it was the 2nd last day of deer season and my buddy Al and I decided we would giver one last try. Both of us had hunted pretty hard and we had seen a lot of deer throughout the season but the right opportunity for me, hadn’t quite presented itself. Al had harvested a deer a few weeks earlier and honestly, I thought my deer hunting days for this year were over.
Al lives down in Manilla Ontario, west of Lindsay Ontario and his deer season didn’t end until December 31. The purpose of Al’s call was to invite me to his place to hunt. He said that he had a couple of climbing tree stands and that he had permission in a couple of spots where there had been a lot of deer activity.
Al and I go way back. You know when you can say you have one, maybe two best friends if you’re lucky in a life time. Well, he’s one of those guys. He’s actually a brother! He’s a real bushman and he knows plenty about the outdoors and especially about hunting and fishing. So when you get a call from Al and he thinks we might have a good chance of getting something, you don’t hesitate. You get in your vehicle and go!
I arrived early in the morning on Dec 29th. We hunted all day in two different spots but came up short.
The next day Al had to leave. He and his family had to head down to southwestern Ontario but not before a last ditch effort morning hunt. So, there we were dragging our sorry butts out of bed at 4:30 AM, driving down a country road and hiking back into the bush in the dark. We hiked through the snow with our bows in our hands and bulky climbing tree stands strapped to our backs.
Now, I’ll be honest, I was a little skeptical about the whole climbing tree stand thing. After all, I had never used one before. I wasn’t skeptical about how they worked or if they worked. I knew they did. I just knew that picking the right tree meant picking one with minimal branches which also meant a tree without a whole lot of cover. I had been busted by deer in the past in situations just like that. In fact, that very morning as daylight fast approached a doe and two yearlings looked right up at me and I swear they grew wings. What ever it was I don’t know, they didn’t like something and in a flash they were gone.
Once again, I thought that was it. I sat down in my stand and not 20 minutes later in full morning light I heard what sounded like deer movement in the snow. I looked to my right and there he was just lightly feeding on small saplings. He began to move away from me and it was at that point I realized I forgot my grunt call. I don’t know if you’ve ever practiced grunt calling with your mouth. But it’s just typical. I can grunt call all day long using my mouth when I’m not deer hunting but stick me in front of a deer in that moment when it counts the most. Well, lets just say my grunt calls that morning weren’t the best.
Call it fate, call it luck, I might even have myself believe that my feeble attempt at calling turned that deer around. What ever it was, he did turn around and began heading my way. At first he approached directly towards me and that wasn’t good for a bunch of reasons, but mostly because there wasn’t a whole lot of ground cover between the deer and me. This can make it difficult to draw your bow. Just when I thought he was going to walk straight in on me he decided to take a little detour behind a small group of standing cedar.
It was now or never. I took the opportunity to draw my bow. I held until he was open and broadside at about 15 yards. It was at that point after triggering my release, between the shaking and trying to draw a normal breath, I knew I had made a solid hit. After all, the WHACK sound was unmistakable.
How good of a shot was it, I wasn’t sure. Then I looked down at the snow. The red blood trail that followed him into the bush was proof enough that I must have made a good shot. After the shot, he ran and crashed through the bush and dropped at about 50 yards. What a hunt!!
You want to talk about a celebration between friends. I’m 46 and Al is 45 years young. We’ve known each other since we were ten. It’s moments like that that make you thankful for great friends and thankful to God to be alive!
-Written and submitted by Jeff Dupuis-
