It was an agonizing game time decision. Am I sitting here or over there? In the overgrown chopping or the hardwoods by the stone wall? I had a good feeling about both spots but alas, I could not be in both at the same time. I eventually chose the chopping. It was a decision that cost me dearly.
Dad had tagged out earlier in the season. That said, he enjoys being in the woods so much, and wanted to be there in case I got a deer, so he was out with me. Not wanting to push deer all over the place, he decided to spend the day by the stone wall.
The chopping was an area that had been cut maybe four or five years earlier. Undergrowth had taken over, with hundreds of small whippets dotting the landscape. I had a ground blind that sat against a steep ridge, overlooking a small strip of hardwoods that connects the ridge to the old chopping. I had seen several deer at this stand throughout the season. Add to the equation the active buck scrape line and I was confident I was in the right spot.
It was a slow day for me. That’s not necessarily a bad thing, as the peace and tranquility of the forest does wonders for my psyche. Plus, I enjoy making friends with and watching the various forest creatures. However, an all-day sit can become quite boring without the occasional doe or two walking by. Unfortunately for me, deer were at a premium that day.
As daylight mercifully gave way to darkness, I switched on my headlamp and made my way to meet Dad at our meeting spot. He had quite the tale for me, too. At approximately 4:15 PM, a nice four-point buck strolled by broadside at thirty yards. Already tagged out, he watched as the deer browsed his way through the woods and out of sight. This would have been easy pickings for me. Oh well, I felt good about the spot I picked, and things just didn’t work out. This happens in the deer woods. I walked out self-assured that one day I would make the right decision. Maybe tomorrow.