Preparation Underway

The fall prep is well underway. Hard to believe but in a little less than 6 months the September bugles will be here. First ultra of the season is the Highland Sky 40 miler in West Virginia on Fathers day weekend. Should be a dandy....

"Point to point course begins near the Dolly Sods Wilderness Area on Red Creek in Laneville, WV. Following a 2 mile paved section, the trail ascends to Roaring Plains, Flatrock Plains and Red Creek Plains into Dolly Sods. The course proceeds north along the Allegheny Front to Bear Rocks. Here runners will turn west crossing Dolly Sods to the rim of Canaan Valley north of Timberline Ski Resort. A descent through Timberline leads to Freeland Rd and into Canaan Valley State Park.

This is not an easy ultra.....The course climbs a total of 5474 feet and descends 4856 feet and is basically in three sections; the Plains, the Road Across the Sky, and Dolly Sods. Two significant climbs occur in the first 15 miles where a 2300′ ascent is followed by a 1700′ descent, and then another 1200′ climb. In the first half of the course highly technical (rocky), single track sections occur from mile 7-11 and 16-18. The Dolly Sods section has an exciting boulder-hopping section from mile 30-31. The course is 75% trail, 15% Forest Service road, and 10% paved road. There are eight aid stations. You should carry fluids and fuel due to remote location and distance between of aid stations."

This year I'm committed to putting Pops in front of a bull with his recurve so anything claiming to be "not an easy ultra" sounds like perfect Elk prep to me. We're heading to some pretty rough backcountry and a little extra prep is going to go along way on the road to pulling it off.

Coming along for the ride on this and many runs this year will be the new Badlands Reactor. It's a sweet little pack that will help carry essential items while on the move. While weighing a tad more than traditional "running" hydration packs (a mere 1lb 8oz total weight) in the end it will be small potatoes to 100lbs of elk meat I hope to carrying in the fall. Stay tuned, LOTS to do.

Persistence Pays Off

"Your biggest break can come from never quitting. Being at the right place at the right time can only happen when you keep moving toward the next opportunity." ~Arthur Pine

To say this Whitetail season has been a long one would not do it justice. It has been a marathon of a season. Opening day was September 26 and ever since I have been working my tail off trying to get in bow range of a mature whitetail. After failing to arrow a good buck through both the November and December rut I was beginning to wonder if I would ever get it done.

October 11 was the day I first saw my old buddy Fred. He came to a mere 6 yards from the tree but unfortunately it was just too dark to shoot. 6 days later on October 17 I got a great picture of him walking by my tree at 6:18 in the evening. Well within shooting light however on that particular night I couldn't make it to the tree. Then on the evening of October 31 at 4:30 pm I rattled old Fred into 35 yards but couldn't pull off a shot. That night was the last time I saw him. My hope is that he is still around and next year we can meet again. I'm sure by then he will have added another 10-15 inches and hopefully should be a banger of a buck.

During the Fred quest there were 3 does that fell to the Pearson and lots of buck encounters. None of the bucks I was seeing were ones that I wanted to try and fill my tag on. Many of them were 1 and 2 and I was looking for something a little more mature. After checking the camera on December 12 I finally got a photo of the big 7. Not a deer that would score well but a mature buck for sure. Looking at the pictures I remembered getting this same buck on film back in June when they were still putting on the inches. That particular deer I had not seen around since and in December he was back. To this day as I still have not seen that deer on the hoof, however I have over 40 trail cam pictures to prove he exists.

So between Fred and the big 7 I felt like I was fighting a losing battle. A ton of mornings, afternoons, and evenings in the stand but little to show for it. From the pictures I knew there were good bucks in the area but I just couldn't seem to catch up to one. No sightings and no close calls. As I stand at the corner of depression and despair I felt my only hope was to just keep slugging it out and hope that persistence would pay off. I could hardly believe it but on January 16 that hope came true.

With 3 weeks to go in the season I hit the woods full of optimism. I knew between work, life, and family my time was getting short. Looking at the calendar I really only had 2 weekends to go. As I sit in the stand that night thinking over the season and wondering what the remaining days would hold I heard a noise from my left. I looked over to see a small buck heading my way.

When I first saw the buck I had no idea he was a piebald. I was actually looking past him for the big 7 when I happened to notice a white spot on his belly (this buck resembled one that the big 7 seems to always be with) and then the white on his legs. I couldn't believe it. I couldn't believe what I was seeing. From talking to the land owner 2 weeks earlier I had heard that someone had saw a piebald deer in the area. Who would have thought it would walk by my tree at 15 yards. He is obviously not the mature buck I was after but a true, rare trophy as a piebald.

For those who don't know a piebald is a genetic variation or defect in the deer and is found in less than 1% of the entire North American whitetail deer population. There is nothing actually wrong with the deer, however this genetic trait produces the white and brown mix found in their coats.

After a close 15 yard shot from the Pearson Z-34 and a short 50 yard track job all the work, all the effort, all of the time spent 25 feet up in the air paid off. I had just taken a true trophy of a lifetime and I couldn't believe it. As I sit in the stand waiting to get down I called Jori, Dad, and Pup in that order. I had just been lucky enough to be in the right place at the right time I couldn't wait to tell my story. Almost 4 months of banging it out toe to toe with the whitetail and I couldn't be happier with the way it ended.

Hope is in the Air!

Fresh photo's from the ScoutGuard reveal an old friend....I'm pumped, hope is in the air! Back at it tomorrow....

Going Pink in 2010....

Very few in today's world can say they have not been affected in some way by cancer. Be it a family member, a close friend, or a friend of a friend......it knows no boundary's.

This year in 2010 I am proud to be a part of Victory Archery's Pink Arrow project. Victory is offering a full line of their Vforce arrows in Pink with a large percentage of the proceeds going to support the National Breast Cancer Foundation. Check em' out here and do your part by grabbing a few.....Join me in helping to support a great cause while shooting a killer arrow. I'll be sporting a full quiver of Pink in 2010!

Slugging It Out......

Well, I'm still at it. Still chasing a mature whitetail buck to put my tag on. This season has felt like a marathon and I'm really only half way through. And just like a marathon the second half of the season is the hardest part. With the prime time over and the temperature dropping it will only get tougher to sit in a tree for hours on end.

The season hasn't been a total loss with 3 does falling to the Pearson. The Fred update is pretty dismal...haven't seen him since October 31st. Beginning to wonder if he is still around. Season ends first weekend in February stay tuned.

The Quest for Fred

First time I saw him ("Fred") was 6 days ago 6 yards from the tree. He came in at last light and it was too dark to shoot.

Threw the ScoutGuard up and yesterday snapped a couple good photo's. Had the camera up all summer and never got a photo of this buck. Just goes to show you never know what's out there. Man, I love this time of year!

So Close.....

It's been almost 10 days since I left the mountains of Colorado and I simply cannot get rid of this sick feeling I have in my gut. Working and grinding for 364 days to prepare only to find myself coming home empty handed leaves me with an absolute horrible feeling of failure. A feeling that I simply cannot stand. In fact, I hate it. The elk, the mountains, the entire Colorado experience smoked me. I had 8 days to get it done and I failed.

The facts show that success rates in this high pressure, over the counter unit run just a shade under 10%. And that's any elk, any weapon (bow, rifle or muzzleloader). Obviously not the best odds, however I expect to be one of those 10% every year. Period. Plain and simple. Anything less, no matter how many ways I try to spin the experience is a failure to me. And after looking at the sticker (Failure Is Not An Option) on my bow limb for the millionth time before packing it up to come home, I pretty much feel like a 1000lb weight has been directly dropped on the Shoemaker pride-o-meter.

Don’t get me wrong, it wasn’t all bad. In fact as with any hunt not only are there lessoned to be learned, but there are also many memories that are created. Take for example Day 3 when I had a monster of a bull at a mere 6 yards.

Pup, I and Cow happened to be together and making our way to another part of the mountain. On our way we heard a bugle from below. Quickly we dropped our packs to make our move. Pup cow called and instantly the bull responded with a bugle. He was below and to our left. Trying to put the wind in our favor we dropped in elevation as quickly as possible.

As we worked down he bugled again. He was still to our left but had now moved above us. We tweaked our location. 2 minutes pass and the bull bugled again. He was still above us but was now moving to our right. We moved again. Another cow call, another bugle. By now the bull had made almost a complete circle and his bugle told us he was closing the distance. Trying to gauge his path I moved forward into a small opening to set up behind the only bush available. I burned holes through that bush looking for the first sign of movement as I nocked an arrow.

As I stand there ready he bugled. He is so close and I know at any second I should see movement. Before that thought even leaves my mind I see him. He is directly ahead of me. The first thing I see is the tips of his antlers bobbing in rhythm as he walks. With each step he is closes the distance…..30 yards, 20 yards, 15 yards, 10 yards……..he finally stops at a mere 6 yards just on the other side of the bush. He is directly facing me, I have no shot.

Struggling to hold it together and desperately trying to figure where my shot is going to come the bull looks right, looks left. Right on cue Pup gives a cow call to which the bull explodes with a bugle and grunts. That bull was so close that I could hear him breathing, I kid you not.

Although it was an awesome experience to have a bull of this magnitude right on top of me, it did me no good. He was facing me and was almost too close. I knew if I have any chance of arrowing this pig, I needed him to go right. If he went left it’s over (wind) if he goes right I got a chance. He starts to move and just my luck he takes 2 steps left and got my wind. In one single move he turns and bolts. I run out from behind the bush, pull, and give a cow call desperately hoping he stops. He didn’t. An awesome experience to say the least but one for me that ended less than ideal.

Over the course of the rest of the week I/we were on animal’s everyday. The next best opportunity for me came on day 8 during the last morning of the hunt. At first light I could hear a bull sounding off over on a distant knob next to a cut I had been in 2 days prior. I was off, investing 2 hours and a mile trying to get in on him.

Making my way ever-so-slowly through the oak brush I was finally able to close the distance. Gaining a good position I moved down in elevation, put the wind in my favor, and cow called. If you would have asked me at that moment I would have told you I had this bull smoked. I knew where he was, where he would come, and that there was no possible way he could get the wind on me. I sat waiting as my mind started to wonder. And this is where I got in trouble.

Of course I knew it was the last morning of the hunt. There were no second chances. I hadn’t heard him bugle in about 15 minutes and after much discussion with myself I decided I needed to make a move. If he was coming he would have been here and if he was leaving I needed to get to him fast. The conversation seemed so logical at the time. Before I could even think rationally my patience got the best of me and I got up, took 2 steps, and busted the bull. He was only 20 yards from me. I wanted to puke. I had just blown what could have been the clinching moment of the entire trip. It had been 8 long days of pushing myself to the limit only to blow it all in the final hour.

Now I know no one knows for sure what would have happened, but one thing is for sure, busting a bull 20 yards from where I was sitting was a hard lesson to swallow. A few more minutes and I’d like to think this entire story ends a little differently.

The 09’ Elk season will be defined with lessons learned and memories created, nothing more. Looking back over the past year I have worked harder than I ever have shooting, training, and pushing myself to new levels trying to take chance out of the equation. In 09’ I have trained to be the best bowhunter I can be. And to be honest, the hard part isn’t the preparation and effort that it takes……it’s the realization that as of today my best is not good enough.

So now it’s back to drawing board to find some how, some way to get it done in 2010. New goals will be made, new levels of what I think is even possible will be tested both physically and mentally. Coming home empty handed is not something I want to do again in 2010. I’ll push on, push harder, and raise the bar again to be the best bowhunter I can be. Let the quest begin, 353 days and counting.