I hadn't missed a bow shot on a deer in a few years. Hadn't. I am conservative with my shots, leaving the absolute minimum variables to chance. Which is interesting (as I edit this text), because I am more of an aggressive tactician in other parts of my life.
I had the animal I wanted at less than 10 yards. I was in the shadows of dusk, dressed in black, unseen. I had time to exhale, inhale, and exhale again. But the shot was not true.
No blood. No fur.
This is the heartbreak of the hunt. When there are no more things to blame, no more uncooperative universal forces in your way, when you've practiced and prepared and are fully paying attention, sometimes you still fail.
I wanted to close the book on bow hunting this spot for this fall. I'll return.
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Over 12 years ago, I started this blog. There were very few conservation or outdoor blogs at the time, few websites with fast-breaking con...

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