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The Misadventures of Miss Adventure
by Janice Baer
Field Staff Coordinator, Minnesota
What hunting season would be complete without some misadventures? Certainly not mine!
I've always been one for adventure in the outdoors, but what hunting season would be complete without some misadventures? Certainly not mine!My favorite bow I like to shoot is my Mathews Switchback. I have a great sight on it, the award winning Black Gold Flash Point, one that works well for both tree stand and ground blind hunting.
After a morning of tree stand hunting, I was preparing to get down from my stand for some lunch at my truck, when I had a terrible mishap. While lowering my bow down on the haul line, the metal latch suddenly broke free from its rope and loosed my bow from its grip. Down to the ground it went. Crash!
I climbed down and hoped for the best. The bow itself was fine but it was perfectly clear that my site was broken. Ugh. This bow would have to be taken out of service until I could buy and replace the site with a new one. Luckily for me, I had my back-up bow in my truck so I could continue hunting after taking my lunch break.
On another hunt, just before legal shooting hours were up in the evening, I prepared to get down from my stand a little earlier than legal shooting hours were up. I had seen more deer at that particular spot in one evening than I usually did and didn't think any more would be coming through. I had taken my mechanical release off my wrist and the arrow off my bow and placed it back into its quiver, and was ready to send my bow down the haul line when I heard a sound to my right. A deer appeared out of no where and stopped broadside about eight yards behind me. As if to taunt me, she then walked a few more yards around to my left side, stopped and posed for my trail camera, all the while passing gas. The doe than walked across the small field plot, stopped, passed more gas, walked a little further, passed gas, met up with a few young deer, passed more gas, turned around and came back towards me, all the while still passing gas. I was quietly giggling the whole time.
I now had reloaded my bow and was ready to take a shot if any one of them stepped into my lane. Coming back my direction, she and the other deer took a detour and walked by just out of bow range. I couldn't see her behind all the brush, but I could still hear her trumpet sounds. I got down from my stand and oddly enough, I passed gas while walking to my truck. This was one outing I'd remember for a long time.
My tree stand and hunt areaI hunt in our metro park hunts where things are always happening that don't normally happen elsewhere. A few examples are like when people let their dogs run loose off-leash even though all trail-heads are posted with "Archery Hunt in Progress". Can't say as I like it when a dog runs through my little section of woods and scares any deer away they may be close by. I've also had two city park workers come walking through my woods after I had called a buck to within twenty-eight yards. I needed him to come in just eight yards closer for a shot, as our rule is shots taken in the metro need to be twenty yards or less.
The two park workers were totally oblivious to me up in a tree and to the buck standing there watching them. Which, by the way, finally sent the buck running the opposite direction and out of those woods. No buck for me.
I thought one day an anti-hunter was visiting me, as he played on a flute right outside my woods, standing on the trail. Or maybe he was serenading me? He didn't stay long and found a different trail to make melody on.
In these woods, my tree stand was situated about 45 yards from a downed tree that housed a Geocache box, where geocachers would locate, write their name and date on a little logbook, and stash it back into the box. One late afternoon I walked back to my stand after trying a little deer push towards another hunter, only to find a geocacher at the cache site. That ruined any chance I had of sitting that last half hour of the hunt. The sighs of an archery hunt in progress doesn't seem to deter anyone from walking into the woods.
On the way home from one of these hunts, I got into my old Suburban and headed for home, only to have the brakes go out on me. I was coming up to a stop sign with a car closing the distance. My foot practically went through the floor to try and stop it and I quickly looked off to the side of the road as to what I could maybe "safely" hit to stop my vehicle, rather than hitting the approaching car. I was going slow enough that my truck coasted to a stop just before the stop sign. I was able to put in it reverse and slowly go backwards to the parking lot and wait for help to arrive.
Then there was the time when...
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