Well, so did I. You see, this is my FIRST deer.

But I’ve been relentlessly hunting for 6 years! My first year hunting was with my new compound bow at my Dad’s. I knew little about hunting, so I simply sat outside on a log waiting for the deer to show up. As you can imagine, no one paid me a visit! By the very last day, I was desperate. I happened to see a fat little button buck walking through the backyard to go munch on fallen birdseed from our feeder. Quick as a wink, I was out in the garage, arrow peeking out the back door aimed at the unsuspecting deer. He was only 10 feet away, but I shot him. He took off running, and we searched high and low for that deer and never found him. I suspected he was curled up in someone’s back yard.

The next year, I met Erik, and he bought himself a bow and we went out hunting. However, his eldest daughter also wanted to hunt, so he put us in a platform blind together. A doe walked out underneath us, and we quickly discovered we had no room to shoot with BOTH of us using bows.

Every year I’d sit morning and evening, even afternoons. Quiet as could be, watching silently. But the deer always waited until dark to move, or they were far beyond the range of my bow.

Erik however, managed to bag deer every year. We’d hunt the same days, and switch blinds. I’d de-scent all my clothes, use bait, use calls, but somehow Erik ALWAYS managed to get the deer.

But in all fairness, the first 2 years he shot only button bucks, which I refused to shoot unless it was the end of the season with no meat in the freezer. I never got to that point though, since Erik easily filled the freezer for us.

I began to get extremely discouraged, sitting out in the rain and the cold and braving hungry coyotes HOPING for a good shot. I’d come home frozen and crying because once again I had NO SHOTS. Day after day after day I’d be out there — switching stands, going where Erik assured me I’d get a deer, only to see nothing shootable.

I seemed to have the worst luck. I’d forget my bow release, or if using crossbow I’d forget the pull rope. I dumped coffee down myself every time (finally resorting to NOT bringing it), or I’d get lost on the way to my stand.

Every year, I’d be the one gutting, skinning and processing out ALL of Erik’s deer. I was the one who got HIM into hunting, and I STILL had nothing to show for it.

The running joke was that I was simply waiting for the biggest deer ever to walk out to be my perfect first deer.

Generally speaking, we are careful which deer we shoot. We leave all the small bucks to grow larger, leave the babies to grow up into adults, and try to shoot a variable selection of mature doe and bucks. We want our deer to be healthy and prosper.

Because of this, Erik and Eian had already shot 2 mature bucks, and Erik a massive doe. Technically we didn’t need any more, but Erik wanted one last deer. But only if it was a buck larger than the one he’d just shot. We knew there were some massive mature bucks kicking around — we had them on cam.

As it happened, the spot I picked for my climber stand was rarely used — it was 10 acres of overgrown grass, bushes and scrappy trees tucked between our neighbor’s field and our 30 acres of woods. I had long thought this to be the place the bucks lived, and a cam placed out with bait only proved me right.

This guy frequented my bait pile right in front of my climber. Erik got so excited he even squeezed into my climber hoping for a shot at this guy. I would see plenty of smaller bucks go by, and smaller doe, but nothing shootable.

One afternoon in early November, Erik insisted we both needed to go out. He was going to hunt the 30 acres of woods, and I decided to sit in my climber.  The evening wasn’t too cold, so I figured I’d sit out while it was still half decent weather. I was happy to be finally seeing deer, even if they weren’t shootable. Erik had insisted I had to stay in my blind until exactly 6pm when it would be nearly dark.

I’d had a few smaller doe walk through, and wasn’t thinking I’d see any more deer. Erik sent me a text at 5:50pm reminding me to stay out until 6. I sat and waited. It was getting pretty dark, but I was using a borrowed crossbow from one of Erik’s buddies. The scope was excellent at amplifying light. I peered through the lens and marveled at how well I could see! 5:55pm I checked my phone again. Five more minutes.

I glanced back up and saw movement coming toward me. I knew it had to be a big doe, but decided to look through the scope just to be sure. Holding it left-handed, I struggled to catch it in the scope. When the scope finally caught it, I saw the flashing of massive antlers.

My heart stopped beating.

I didn’t know what to do. It was pretty much dark . . . would I even be able to make the shot? I could see him clearly in the scope, but what if it wasn’t as large as it seemed? I had never tried to fire this bow from anywhere but the ground into a target. What if the scope was off and I missed?

The buck stood 20 yards in front of me, facing me and eating the beets on the ground. Should I try to do a chest shot? Would a taxidermist yell at me? Would my meat be ruined with guts splattering the inside of the body? Would I WANT to gut such a messy shot?

Would it die with a chest shot? Or would it run a ways first? We have one rule with hunting. If you’re going to shoot, you’d better drop it! One shot, one deer. If you need more than one shot to kill a deer, you’d better take-up a different sport!

I sat holding my breath, torn as to what to do. Do I pass up the deer of a lifetime, or do I risk a messy, possibly not dead deer that might run-off and be lost to the coyotes?

I ran out of time. At that EXACT MOMENT, Erik walked out of the woods.

The buck promptly turned to look right at him, and now stood broadside to me (side facing me). I knew I’d have just a second before he decided to run. I planted my crosshairs behind his right shoulder, the “kill spot” for all hunters, and pulled the trigger on the crossbow. He jumped and took off running into the brush and then went down.

Erik had no idea a buck was standing there. He also had no idea I was sitting in my blind still and was taking a shot. He DID see the arrow wizz past him just 20 feet away!

My phone began lighting up with a barrage of text messages from Erik. Neither of us moved for 10 minutes out of fear that the deer might still be alive and decide to run again. We texted back and forth. I’d had no idea Erik was walking out. He almost came out 2 minutes sooner and would have scared the deer before I saw it, but he had stopped to check his bait pile and his game cam by his stand.

I honestly believed the deer probably had run off. I knew I’d shot him in the kill zone, but I simply could not believe that after 6 years I had FINALLY shot something. I wouldn’t believe it until I saw it dead.

Erik insisted we needed to let it sit to make sure it was dead, so we went back home to get the side by side. Half an hour later, we returned. I made the mistake of insisting to track it backwards. I was afraid that if it were still alive and we scared it, it would run to the neighbor’s property. Good luck trying to convince your neighbor that the massive deer on his property was the one you just shot!

So we started at the back end, hoping to come upon his body. For an hour we searched and didn’t even find blood. Now I was scared. No blood anywhere? I must have missed him! There’s always blood, and I’m the master of finding the trail! Finally I decided to search through all the buck grass beds back there, and follow a heavy trail that was in the same area I’d seen the buck run.

Bingo. Small bits of blood finally showed up and following them we found our buck, dead. He hadn’t run much further than 100 feet from where he’d been shot. The arrow had gone through both lungs, right at the shoulder.

So while he is quite impressive, he was definitely earned over the course of 6 years.

Here is Erik’s favorite photo: