First Buck...

Today I am reflecting on my first harvest of a whitetail buck. It was October 2, 2009, and it was my first hunt in the state of Oklahoma. I was hunting with a good friend of mine in south central Oklahoma, and the anticipation was high. I missed the previous hunting season because I was in basic military training. We arrived to the location in the afternoon, and we put on all of our gear. We walked to our respective stands, and I quietly made my way through the woods. I settled into my ladder stand, and a few minutes later I heard a noise behind me. I was on high alert and was anticipating a deer coming my way. The noise ended up being an armadillo. That was cool for me because I had never seen one before, being from the northeast. The armadillo slowly made his way past me, and my heart rate went down. Not even five minutes later I caught a glimpse of three deer to my right. It was a group of two bucks and a doe heading in my direction. The doe was in the front, the smaller buck in the middle, and the bigger buck in the back. I used my rangefinder to get a range of the distance, and they were going to be walking at 23 yards. I drew my bow and settled my pin on the bigger buck. When he was broadside, I pressed the trigger of my release. The arrow hit a few inches back of the shoulder, and he ran off. I was extremely excited to say the least. I thought it was a great hit, and I waited 30 minutes to track him. When I arrived to my arrow, there was a good amount of blood. I was tracking his trail, and to my surprise he was standing 40 yards in front of me. I backed out and night fall was upon us. My friend and I decided to let him be and come back in the morning. That night was restless, and worst case scenarios were running through my mind. My biggest fears were that I would not find him and that coyotes would find him before me. We went back in the morning and found to the location where I last saw him. The blood was minimal, and it was a tough tracking job. We lost the blood trail, so we decided to get some more help and expand our search. Luck was on my side that day, and we happened to stumble on him while we were going back to the truck. The buck basically made a big circle and couldn't have been more than 100 yards from where I shot him. Upon inspection of him, I shot him a little far back. I ended up hitting his liver. It is a fatal shot, but it takes longer for the deer to expire in comparison to a lung shot (which is preferred). I was thankful for the recovery and reflected on the deer. He wasn't a big deer, but he was a trophy to me.