One hour into the 2012 archery deer season - and my archery hunting career - two does came storming out of the woods heading west to east.
    One doe ran right by my stand, not passing 15 yards in front of it, while the other one stopped directly in front of the stand and immediately turned back toward the west, ears high and on full alert.



    Being the professional journalist that I am (even though I don't get paid anymore, which isn't really that much of a difference from when I was getting paid, if you want to call that pay) I immediately pulled out my camera, leaned forward in the stand and snapped a photo.
    Seconds later another deer came bounding out of the woods, this one sporting a rack. It was an eight-pointer, albeit, not the biggest eight-pointer I've ever seen, but a nice deer nonetheless.
    The buck, also agitated and jumping slowed to a walk and I once again pulled my iPhone out of my pocket and snapped a photo.



    Then I used the phone to make a video, all the while wondering if I should be picking up my bow and taking aim. The answer, at first, was no, I shouldn't. I had seen that eight-pointer on my trail camera a couple of weeks prior to the season opener along with several other bucks and decided at that point I wasn't going to shoot (at) him.
    My goal was and still is to hopefully get a shot off on a wonderfully larger buck that is roaming the area sporting the kind of rack that you dream about. A full, healthy big boy with at least nine long, awesome points (it could be 10, I haven't gotten a clear photo yet).
    My reasoning is simple: With so much hunting season for me this year why shoot the first deer that comes out? Besides, sparing that animal or any others opens up the opportunity for my son or daughter to maybe get a shot at a decent buck come the Minnesota rifle deer season in November.
    But on the flip side of that, and the thought that crossed my mind as the eight point meandered within 10 yards of me and then turned around to leave and then decided to come back past the stand at a further distance, is that I may never see that deer again and who am I to pass up a nice eight-pointer and the bragging rights that come with bagging such a fine deer by bow just minutes into my first season.
    So I decided that maybe I should take the shot anyway.
    And that's when everything that could go wrong did. First, I was still debating with myself over whether or not I really wanted to take aim at the buck when I did. Second, all that preseason practicing I did, trying to train my mind and body to go into auto-mode and anchor, aim, fire and follow through, went straight out the window.
    Only half-committed to the shot and shaking slightly as the adrenaline started to flow, I raised the bow to my head area somewhere (I don't think I anchored), put one of the pins on the deer (it engulfed the animal through my peep sight), and jerked a shot off into the distance.
    And then I watched the arrow sail right underneath the deer and into the mud. The buck, for his part, jumped a little as it whizzed by and took two quick jumps and then slowed and walked away like nothing ever happened.
    When it was all said and done I got out of the stand and found the arrow. Examining the scene I realized one of my many mistakes was using the wrong pin. The deer was at closer to 40 yards and I was using the 30 yard sight.
    Another mistake was only half-committing to the shot. I should have followed my initial plan, the plan I entered the woods with - to wait out that big buck.
    But those are the lessons you learn along the way when it comes to deer hunting. In all my years of doing it, and I've been hunting deer for the better part of 30 years, very little has ever gone as planned. The deer never comes out where it should or when it should and if it can go wrong it usually will.
    And, perhaps most importantly, I believe a deer hunter needs to be mentally committed to the type of deer he or she wants to harvest before they ever hit the woods. I try to do that every time I go hunting and every time I've deviated from my initial plan, the result has been failure.
    Looking back on opening day, I'm glad I didn't hit that buck. I'm glad I can still stick to my initial plan and I know now that I will if the opportunity presents itself again. In fact, later that morning I passed on a four-point buck with ease.
    I also look at it as a learning experience and now, with all of that out of the way, hopefully when and if that big boy appears I will be a little more prepared.
    See you in the woods!

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