Brandon’s First Archery Buck

The first 6 days of this year’s season was spent hunting with my oldest son, Conner as well as my youngest Cody, and my dad.

We had an AWESOME hunt, and saw TONS of animals (including a cow elk at 40 yards who busted me before I could draw)

Conner got a shot at a buck at 25 yards, but went just barely over its back.

I also learned why some guys will take “pot shots” at big bucks when I had a 170+ buck broadside at 90 yards… not a shot I’m willing to take, but I can tell you it was quite tempting.

The second weekend I went back up alone for an over nighter… I did have a buck at 40 yards, but he caught me sitting on my rear end, and I couldn’t get into a shootable position before I was busted, and the deer were gone.

The third weekend of the hunt would be my last chance since we have a mountain man rendezvous over Labor day weekend, so dad and I headed up on Thursday with Saturday being our day to be home… Dad had promised mom that he’d attend church with her that weekend.

I had planned to sit on a water hole Thursday night hoping for an elk to come in. (I had lots of trail camera footage of cows using this particular water hole) Another hunter had beaten me there, so we spent that evening working the trails hoping to find something to put a sneak on.

With no real plan for the morning hunt, we did the same thing as the night before.

Late in the morning on Friday we headed to the water hole so I could check my camera, and to possibly go on a hike looking for the elk.

When we arrived at the water hole–which is right next to a main road–there was a guy with a backpack on standing next to his side by side with his 7 year old son.

We stopped and said hi, and he told us he was looking for a buck he’d just shot 15 minutes before we arrived.

“I hit it really good, and it donkey kicked across the road and disappeared into those trees”, he said.

We offered to help him find it, and quickly parked the truck… The hunter found his arrow while we were parking the truck… covered in very dark blood…

We knew we needed to give the deer at least another 15 minutes before we started tracking, we used the time to get to know him a bit better.

It turned out that he had just passed hunter’s safety 3 years ago, and this was his second year hunting, and the first time he’d ever shot at a deer. He really didn’t have any expectations at even seeing any deer, let alone getting a shot at one.

After we’d figured there’d been enough time, we began looking for the blood trail… it took us about 20 minutes to find the first drop of blood, and in two hours of tracking, I don’t think we found more than 10 very tiny drops of blood… the last blood heading up hill.

We were very disheartened, and had to sadly explain to this new hunter that he probably hit the buck high through the back straps, and though it’s injured, it would likely survive the wound.

Heads low, we headed back to the vehicles, and said our goodbyes.

He drove 30 yards down the road, and there was his buck laying right next to the road! (yes, really)

Suddenly he’s yelling and screaming, “Guys! I found him, but he isn’t dead! What do I do?!” “Shoot him again!”, we yelled… “WHERE?!”

I grabbed my bow in case the buck got up and made a break for it, and headed to where he was.

Sure as heck, the buck was trying to get up, but his back must have stiffened up enough that he couldn’t get his feet under himself.

I showed him where to shoot the buck, and he made a perfect 8 yard shot to finish the buck off.

After a lot of high fives, I said, “do you know how to gut a deer?”… “Just like a fish isn’t it?”, he asked… I looked at dad and said, “we’re going to be here a little bit longer”

We taught him how to dress the deer, helped him load it in his side by side, and he was on his way… happy guys all around.

That evening was going to be my last shot at a cow elk, and my plan was to be on that water hole.

Before the evening hunt, I bathed myself in smoke from green pine bows to mask my scent, and then made my long sit… nothing came in until well after dark (the trail camera told me that part)

Saturday morning dawned, and we knew it was going to be a great day… we decided to hunt low in the sage to shake things up… especially since we weren’t seeing much up high.

It paid off in a LOT of sightings… and big bucks! 300 yards away, and running like hell doesn’t help an archer get a shot though.

The morning was getting late, and we were on our last pass up over the mountain before breaking camp and we decided to take a side trail through a clear cut.

Immediately we started seeing deer, and up the trail just 1/2 mile or so, I look to my left… BUCK!

The buck disappeared over the ridge… not running, just stepped out of sight.

I took the only path available, and ended up standing on a huge pine stump with no cover at all.

In front of me 25 yards away is a doe, who looks up at me immediately… then goes back to feeding… Really weird especially since the wind was blowing straight down her nostrils. (The pine smoke thing must really work)

At this point, the buck is behind a slag pile with another doe, and I can’t do anything about it other than wait and hope he comes out and presents a shot.

After what felt like an eternity, he stepped out into the open… with the doe behind him… still no shot.

My patience was fine, but the adrenaline had me shaking so hard it’s a wonder they couldn’t feel the ground shaking.

Finally the doe moved and I had a perfect quartering away broadside shot at the buck.

I drew the bow, and the doe took two quick steps… I didn’t have much time to think, but I did remember to use my peep and the correct pin.

I released the arrow, and smack! He was hit, and they bolted quickly away.

We didn’t find the blood trail until we were about 20 yards from where he was when I hit him, but it just kept getting bigger and bigger once we found it.

50 yards into tracking him, and we found him dead as a doornail… It looked like he was still moving, and he just tipped over.

He isn’t the biggest buck on the mountain, but he’s the biggest deer I’ve ever killed with a bow, and I’m proud to call him mine.

– Brandon Zundel

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