Update on The "One”

Gimpy survived me and the entire archery season, I know this because when I got home from this last trip and went over my trailcam photos, he was last seen on October 27^th.  He is still getting around on that bum leg, but now he has another problem.  It appears he has developed an ulcer on his left rump.  Maybe it’s a complication of the leg injury, maybe a coyote; maybe some archer missed his mark?  Either way, Gimpy is still out there surviving like the stud he is and I will still be looking out for him next season.

 

This is one tough old deer.  If the broken leg, the gangrene and infection don't do him in I will be honored to harvest this magnificent animal.



No More Passes

In October on the opening day of Texas Archery Season, I was filled with hope of finally getting my opportunity to harvest “Gimpy.”  After all, I had seen him morning and evening on numerous occasions just 10-20 yards from my stand beginning in August (this was going to be easy I thought).  This being the opening day, surely he will be there like clockwork?  Well, out of three days of hunting the opener, he never showed up.  However, I did encounter a 2.5 year old spike buck that I had seen before and had captured on camera prior to the season. 

At Gurra, we have a lot of spikes caught on camera throughout the year and try to cull them out whenever possible but I let him walk in hopes of arrowing Gimpy.  After three days of hunting and never having an opportunity besides the spike I passed on, I went home empty handed. 

The weekend prior to Thanksgiving I was back on Gurra Ranch this time it was now General Season (Rifle) but I still wanted to take a deer with my new Horton crossbow.  I had not seen Gimpy or any other deer for that matter seems they all went nocturnal by now.  Then on one morning that same spike showed up again early in the morning before legal shooting time so I watched him, glassed the other avenues and waited for the sun to come up some more.  He did look back as if something else was coming and I was excited that maybe a bigger deer would come out as well.  I waited another 15 minutes and nothing else came in, the spike was still there and I decided I was going to not pass on him again.  He had been broadside to me for almost 10 minutes; I steadied my stick, took aim, checked my wind flag and let it fly.  I could see the bright green nock pass right through him and stick in the ground just behind where he stood.  Unknowingly he was about to meet his end, he kicked up, bolted 25 yards, stopped turned back and looked up directly into the blind as if he always knew I was there,  he then walked off down a trail and into the brush; "I’ll give him an hour I thought" as I watched him with the binoculars.  As I began to calm myself down, I looked over and a 6 or 7 point saw what was going on and nervously turned and walked back into the brush; I was not prepared for a followup shot.  I decided to wait for that buck to return while I waited the clock down before I went looking for the spike.

The larger buck never reappeared and I found the spike down the trail, it wasn’t hard to track him, the broad head had done its job with a through and through of both lungs.  



 

1 Shot 2 Turkeys

Later that morning, I was calling back to five or six toms that were out of site, they were hung up and not moving to me so I decided to go to them.  I exited the blind and moved east down the sendaro towards the ruckus, calling periodically to vector in on their location.  Eventually I had to get down in the brush and crawl along the game trails.  I never saw them and they exited the property.  Just then, all hell broke loose as it sounded like a huge fight broke out as I have never heard anything like it in the woods!  Out of sight it lasted for a good five minutes and then just stopped.  I continued calling with my Jake call, but there were no responses.  Three minutes later I noticed several Jakes to the North heading uphill and winding back around to Gurra the property.  This time I started to get some responses off in the distance.

After five minutes I decided to make a move down the property line to the north, where I incidentally have a trailcam.  It’s about 70 yards down to that spot so I got up crept out into the opening and when I didn’t see anything down the draw, I stood up and that’s when three Jakes spotted me naked.  I was definitely a bust!  I kept my cool, froze in my tracks and they did the same - craning and straining.  I knew I had to get small, very small in a hurry or I was going to blow this stalk.  I managed to get small and back out of the open, I got back to my hide, which is an understatement, and reset moving the safety to the fire position.  I decided to give a few calls and listen. No response.  I tried once more, no response.  I leaned over to the left to start recording and get my pump back up on my knee when I looked up and there were the three Jakes just 21 feet away.  I was busted again and I wasn’t able to begin the camera recording!

This being only the third time I intentionally was in a position to take a turkey, this didn’t even come close to being “ill prepared;” this was a hilarious catastrophe.  By the time I was able to mentally process how deep I was in the stuff and the steps I needed to get a shot off in just a few seconds, more turkeys had arrived and the pressure was on – I was going to get my turkey, I would outsmart and out maneuver these tricky birds and triumph as a predator in the top of the food chain should!  Where it became hysterical was all the time I was trying to get into position, more and more turkeys kept showing up and pushing forward on the leader as if trying to see how many turkeys would fit in a phone booth!

I finally got my shotgun to my knee and pointed at the throng of turkeys trying to line up on the leader who was weaving and bobbing because he knew I was there, but stayed to try to figure me out.  The planets aligned, I had my shot, I squeezed the trigger and nothing happened!  Safety?  My trigger hand moved ever so slightly felt along the trigger housing for the safety; safety was off. ??  Finger back on trigger, lined up perfect shot again, squeezed trigger – nada!  Another safety check, in the “Fire” position!  ??  Totally baffled I continued to line up another shot.  What could be wrong?  What am I missing?  Then it hit me like “Homey D Clown,” the slide was not fully forward; it must have moved back battling the brush?  I knew what I had to do now, but also knew moving it forward would give off a metallic “click” and I had to be ready to shoot.  Now or never I waited again for the shot, 15-20 turkeys all piling up not wanting to cross some imaginary line on the path – CLICK – BAM!

Never before have I had so much confusion, torment and exhilaration on a hunt.  The whole encounter lasted 6-7 minutes, 15+ Jakes staring me down just 20 feet away and now I had two wild turkeys for Thanksgiving dinner, did I mention I only used one shell? 

 

Hog Wild

I finally made it back out to the stand mid November.  Once again, Gimpy was a ghost and all the other “bigger” bucks had gone nocturnal.  This trip I was “hardcore,” I left work at 5:00 pm and headed southwest to Gurra Ranch.  I arrived at 10:45 pm and began offloading everything that needed to go down the mountain.  After hauling everything down, setting out bait, erecting the blind, pulling a couple of camera cards, I settled down inside the blind for a nap; it was now 0200.  I set my alarm for 0500, got up and after a brief nature call I was back in the chair.

At 0600 three big hogs ran out in front about 45 yards away, by the time I saw them they were out of sight and crossbow range when a fourth stopped on the trail and looked my way.  He decided to come on in and five others followed him.  All six of them were all over 150lbs each; the biggest around 225 was the one that decided to come in.  There they were all lined up like F-150s in compact car parking spots facing me.  I had the option of using my crossbow, a -06, or an FNAR in .308.  I have wanted to see how many hogs I could take with a semi-auto .308, but I really wanted to get a kill with my new crossbow.  I was torn.

The whole reason I “needed” a crossbow was to have a silent method of killing a hog or turkey when sitting on blind while deer hunting.  I kept adjusting my shooting stick for either one, even standing with the FN and sitting back down and picking the crossbow back up several times!  Not being able to decide and getting close to daylight, the crossbow won out.  I wanted the big boar in the middle but didn’t have a shot until one backed out of the parking space and came around to the right side but still quartering towards me.  After what seemed like an eternity and expecting the hogs to bolt at any second, this one finally turned broadside I took the sdafety off and and I let it fly.  I had an illuminated nock on the bolt, but I didn’t see it lit; what I saw was a spark near the under belly of the hog and feared that I shot too low.  After the shot, they all ran off in a confused manner and disappeared on the adjacent property; about 2 minutes later I heard the hog's last dying breaths. The sun came up and around 0930 I went in search of my bolt.  Located about six feet behind a small bush was the bolt, broad head and trocar tip smashed, nock in pieces and the rear of the bolt split about 2 inches, did I mention it was soaked in blood?