Your Best Hunt Ever.....

[BATTLEBORN]

^^^^ Congrat, they are a LOT of work but enjoy it because it goes by fast. I feel like just yesterday my 4 year old was that small. I going to buy him a bow for his 5th B-day this year.

 

[Josh Wright]

Congratulations. I have I boy myself. 8 months old. Work doesn't describe it.

 

[bigmoose]

My best hunt took place in Colorado with my family and friends. There were 19 of us in all, including the wives and one teenager. Most of us had deer tags and a few others had both elk and deer. It seemed that everyone saw a big buck or two and we all filled our tags, even the guys with elk tags. Usually if one guy gets a big buck, it is a great trip, but this year several big bucks were taken, including my 200 in. 5X6. My hunting partner, Mike, took the biggest one on the last day. We had meat hanging from all the trees! Just an amazing hunt! There are a couple photos of Mike's buck on the "Best Hunting Partner" thread.

Moose

 

[jbsmith1]

Many, many, many great days hunting with my father, but I believe October 21, 2011 is my favorite for all the right reasons.

This is copied and pasted from my original thread on another site. I've deleted the pictures so that it isn't incredibly long.

Something my father never did. . . Pic heavy
Contrary to what a lot of you are thinking after reading that title, this is going to be a positive story. Please bear with me.

I pull up to the field edge roughly one and a half hours prior to shooting time. The moon tonight, waning crescent, is still enough to work without a flashlight. As usual, I light a small fire and begin to get dressed. Wind seems just about perfect this morning, 6-8mph out of the WNW. Walking in, I jump something big about five yards off the track I am following. I can just make out the white tail as he/she bounds off toward the ravine and crashes through the woods. Continuing on my way, I arrive at my stand site and proceed to set some scent clips and hang my drag around a thirty-yard perimeter. I climb up to the stand and get settled in to wait for sunrise. . .

This chipmunk is begging for a G5 Montec-tipped Beman ICS Hunter. I laugh quietly to myself instead of flinging an arrow at him, though he continues to taunt me from the log below my stand. The next two and a half hours pass rather quickly without much action, except for a doe and her fawn, that pass to the north along the tree line seventy yards away. There is no sign of the big buck I saw two days ago in the standing corn 150 yards to the west. On Wednesday, I watched him meander in the hidden field to the north before crossing the fence and entering the corn. It’s absolutely gorgeous out today; the thought continues to circle my mind. Nothing’s going on – what the hell – I’ll snap some pictures to show the wife. She’s never been out here; it’s not our property, but I have permission to hunt. . .

At about 9:30, I stand to stretch and check out the ravine/creek bottom behind me. Standing there, I start to contemplate packing it in. I haven’t seen much of anything this morning and I have to work third shift tonight. A nice nap after the hour drive home would be nice. As I turn to peer around the tree to my left, three does emerge from the tip of the ravine; they didn’t make a sound coming up the ridge. I watch them slowly work their way toward the edge of the CRP and my scent drag. Over the next few minutes, my body goes nuts in anticipation. I’m already standing, so that’s a plus. I’m nervous no doubt; my legs actually begin to quiver. I continue to calm myself with inner thoughts of the many practice shots I’ve taken at this distance.

Two of the three does continue across the path I walked in on without hesitation. The third never came completely off the ridge; she just milled around in the thicker stuff. I guess the smoke cover scent works. My heart is absolutely pounding right now – calm down, dammit!!! The big girl out front starts to turn away from me; I quickly draw, making sure no eyes are on me. I turn my attention to the second doe, as number one has turned a bit too far now (no Texas heart shots for me). Number two is standing right next to my drag now, quartering away. She is twenty-five yards out; I settle my twenty yard pin just below her spine at the back of her rib cage. The arrow is away before I know it – good, deep whoomph sound upon impact. The doe runs to the south along the trail I followed in this morning. She disappears behind a tree into the six-foot tall CRP.

A parade of emotion courses through me over the next thirty minutes while I wait to start looking for her. I am certain the hit was good, confirmed by clean, frothy blood covering my arrow. I begin my search roughly thirty minutes after shooting her. Blood is scarce, a drop here, a drop there, a smear on random grass. Did I mention that the CRP is six to seven feet tall? Roughly ninety minutes later, amidst my growing apprehension at possibly never finding this doe, I look up to a big white belly in a small clearing ahead. Apprehension gone in an instant, I wear a perma-smile for the rest of the day.

I know this is getting long, so I’ll not get into the rest of my day. It was spent gutting, carrying and butchering the doe, as well as re-telling this story multiple times to anyone who would listen and never taking a nap prior to work (28 hours awake was tough, but worth it).

What I will finish with, is an explanation of the thread title. My father, my hero, passed away seven years ago this month. I learned so much from him in all aspects of life. Hunting together is one of the things I cherish most about my time spent with him. He was an avid sportsman and had only been bowhunting for a few years before he passed. He was never able to kill a deer with his bow. I have done many things in my life that my father never did. However, this one thing, my accomplishing something as a hunter that he never did, has given me an immense feeling of pride. I owe everything to him when it comes to hunting and the desire to be in the field. I am forever thankful for knowing him and look forward to passing his knowledge on to my son. By the way, this is only my second year bowhunting, and I must say that I am completely addicted.

 

[huntwest]

My best hunt ever happened last year. Kaylee was finally old enough for a youth doe tag. I had to wait until she was done with basketball practice. We set up a ground blind in a old farmstead. The sun was shining in on her,and she started to get sleepy. I told her she had time or a short nap. Well the deer forgot to read the script and showed up early. I managed to get kaylee awake for her first shot as the doe kept coming down the trail.

I reloaded some reduced recoil rounds for her to shoot, but they smoke like a muzzleloader when shot. When kaylee finally shot the doe was only 40 yards away. Through the smoke I seen the doe run off but carrying its front shoulder. I let her fallow the short blood trail o her first deer.

I hope she will continue to go hunting with me and stays away from them boys for a few more years!

 

[Pilgrim]

Defining a "best" hunt is difficult. Is best a matter of filling tags or something else less tangible? I think most of the time, it's both.

When I was growing up in the Ozarks of SW Missouri, I picked up bow hunting without any real influence or role models. I can only attribute it to some innate instinct. It was just something I felt like I was supposed to be doing. From that moment on, I spent every waking hour, literally, either shooting or wandering the wooded hills, creeks and rivers stalking and learning the wildlife. Eventually, one hunt that still sticks with me was a fall turkey season when I killed a coyote and two turkeys in less than two hours. I felt like a hunter that day. When my Mom put one of those birds on the Thanksgiving table, I felt like a man. I was probably 14.

Any more, hunting is less about killing and more about being in the wild, faring the same conditions as my quarry and trying to outwit and overcome them. I was back home in Missouri this winter for the holidays and did some hunting. 1) I realized how boring tree stand hunting is. I didn't end up sitting much. 2) I found myself less inclined to loose an arrow on things I would have in the past. Why is that? 3) My kids keep my mind rolling, like some have already said, imagining my future best hunts.

Great thread, Aron, and great conversation y'all. Thanks.

 

[Wrongside]

I'm very fortunate to have many great memories from hunts, both long and short, with good friends and picking a 'best' hunt is tough, but it was this was probably it... it was a great day with two of my favourite people in this world.