The September 28th season opener couldn’t come fast enough in Texas. This property had a bachelor group that we’d been monitoring patterns on all summer. Weeks of glassing, game camera photos, tracking their every move in preparation for this 1 moment.
The deer were on a night cycle at the most important time. Just a week prior, I was still seeing deer in the evenings feed out through a funnel and into a field edge, going past 2 different sets like clockwork... then they quit. The buck we called “The Big 8” (very creative I know) was still in full velvet 3 days before season and almost 3 weeks longer than any other buck. Evenings went by with no activity but hope was not lost as the cameras would pick him up sometimes just minutes after dark.
October 8th morning pictures started rolling in and there he was daylighting. The wind was blowing from the southeast which was PERFECT on this property with exclusive north and west side access. I found an excuse to leave work early and got to the stand on the far west edge of the property where I knew he traveled. I got quiet, preset my dial to 25 yards for this spot, wind in my face and high hopes.
Sunset was 7:06pm this evening and my set was just slightly tucked into the canopy which means I lost light a little earlier than the field locations. Just after 7, I remember sliding my Optic Light rearward and turning it on to the dim setting. Bow in hand, I waited with only coyotes howling in the distance and the occasional pig squealing as they made their evening rounds. Dark was closing quickly and I started packing up. I turned off my Ozonics and placed a couple items in my pack in preparation to call it a hunt when he just appeared. Never a sound at all and I don’t know how. He was gliding across from right to left in front of me at 16 yards like a ghost hovering. I quietly took my bow back off the hanger, clipped my release on as he walked past my shooting window. I went ahead and drew my bow to wait but he never popped out the other side. I held for what I feel like was a realistic 45 seconds waiting but it sure felt like a lot longer. He slowly circled to his right, quartering away from me and stopped again. Pins still lit from before and dial still at 25 yards with the deer now at 22 yards, I settled my top fiber at the back of his ribcage. It was at that point, I knew that I was having trouble seeing the crisp outline of my peep. I flickered my left eye a little to be sure it wasn’t taking over vision and just walked myself through the shot process, telling myself to trust my anchor and alignment and pull through the shot.
The arrow flies and the satisfying THWAP of the broadhead passing through was all I heard. I did not see the arrow make impact and the buck tore off through the oak brush crashing. The shot itself felt great but there is always that uncertainty until you put your hands on them.
I called my buddy Ryan right away and nobody else until we knew for sure he was down. I got down and went to get a look at the arrow but it wasn’t there on the ground although the blood trail started right where his feet left so I knew he was still carrying it. I followed the blood with ease for about 30 or so yards and made the hard but right decision to give him time.
With a grueling hour and a half wait and some extra help from Ryan, his wife Maddy and my 2 youngest boys we went out to look. As a group, I think we found him in less than 6 minutes piled up just another 40 yards past where I stopped looking. It was a sweet moment. The arrow placement was perfect having gone through both lungs and stopping buried in the offside shoulder. A buck, a kill and a recovery that will hold a lot of memories with good folks to share it with.
Written by Kevin Holladay
Photos by Ryan Haines
