Will my Last-Minute Equipment Changes Help me Find Success?
Will my Last-Minute Equipment Changes Help me Find Success?
My first archery deer was a long time coming.
It was a great hunt. The weather didn't cooperate, but the deer did... and that was all we needed.
It was opening morning of Georgia's archery season, and I was less than an hour's drive north of the Florida state line, sitting in a double-wide ladder stand propped against a sizeable tree in a mosquito-filled creek bottom. The skeeters were keeping their distance, though, thanks to my Thermacell.
I had in my possession a Barnett Wildcat C5 crossbow and some other goodies I had recently purchased. I had owned the crossbow for just a few weeks, and it had already provided me with plenty of ups and downs, the most recent of which had resulted in my purchase of new arrows and broadheads less than a week earlier.
My old broadheads (three-blade Satellite Mag-125s) had started flying erratically, and I needed to change something fast. My arrows were spined a little limber, too. After a trip to Advantage Sports Center in Salt Springs, Florida and a consultation with Jim (the owner), I headed home with a lighter wallet, six new Horton Lightning Strike MX aluminum arrows, and a three-pack of Rage two-blade expandable broadheads.
I re-zeroed the bow, then shot the Rage practice head (there's one included with every pack of Rage broadheads). It flew perfectly - the first time. After that, not so much. In my opinion, the Rage two-blade practice head is junky and not very useful.
I was very hesitant to shoot one of the Rage broadheads at my "The Block 4x4 Pup" target (which I had bought at a benefit auction for 4-H Shooting Sports, a worthy organization).
Rage broadheads are overpriced - the three-pack I bought cost $43.99 plus tax. The Rage folks even clip you $25 plus shipping just for replacement blades.
(continued)
Rage Broadheads, Hot Weather, Steiner Binocs, and an Odd Squirrel
The high price (and the appearance of fragility) kept me from practicing with the Rage broadheads. So I placed my faith in the many hunters who have testified online that Rage heads fly just like field points, and I headed to the woods.
As I write this, I don't believe my Rage heads can be accurately described as fragile, and they're so simple in design that the term "mechanical," although accurate, almost seems too technical.
The weather was hot, and a moronic move on my part had resulted in some extra walking, so I was a bit heated when I got to the stand. The temperature was not far shy of 80 degrees, and humidity was bumping 100%. When deer hunting, I can live with sweat, but not sweat and skeeters. Without Thermacell, I would not have been there. But I was.
The stand had been recommended by a friend who'd said he'd never hunted there without having deer come within bow range. Pitting such a reputation against my usually-less-than-stellar luck was surely a gamble, and after three hours in the stand, it's possible that I was starting to wonder about Eddie. The hard seat cushion didn't help my opinion of the stand, but I still held out hope.
I had a pair of Steiner Peregrine XP 8x44 binoculars, on loan to me for review, and I spent a few minutes getting an eyeful of Tumor the Squirrel, a magnificent train wreck of a beast possessing both a beautifully-colored face and a disgusting infestation of tree squirrel bot fly larvae, which manifests itself as revolting hairless lumps on the squirrel's hide.
Such a creature is hard to look at, but (like a train wreck) hard not to take note of.
Duly impressed with the Steiners, which had provided me with a much clearer view of the parasite-ridden squirrel than was comfortable, I sat back and almost immediately heard a footstep in the leaves behind me and to my left.
(continued)
The Deer Make an Appearance, and I Take a Shot
After hearing the noise, I turned slowly to my left, looking down towards the ground. I caught a glimpse of tan hair and knew a deer was close, but then I spotted movement through the tree stand's burlap skirt and knew another deer was even closer. That one stepped right out into the open, and very shortly focused its attention on the tree stand in which I was perched.
The deer, an adult doe, stood less than ten yards away, directly to my left.
The cocked-and-loaded crossbow rested on the stand's front rail with its butt in my lap, with the "red dot" sight turned off, and the safety on.
I resisted the urge to look directly at the deer as she gazed up at me, because that will often spook 'em. I used my peripheral vision to keep tabs on her as I eased my right hand to the sight and turned it on, carefully eased the crossbow's safety into the fire position, and gripped the stock.
The doe continued to eyeball me intently, but as time passed she relaxed a bit, and from time to time she would look away or put her head down. Each time she did, I eased the crossbow a little closer to shooting position. Finally I slid my head behind the "red dot" sight (I had used the dial to select green rather than red) and couldn't believe that I was finally looking at the fairly-relaxed whitetail deer through the sight, with a green dot superimposed on my view.
Perhaps the doe couldn't believe it, either. She turned away and took a step or two, clearly headed elsewhere.
Then she turned broadside. When she did, I uttered a low "mermp," which stopped her. I placed the green dot on her side and squeezed the crossbow's trigger.
(continued)
Making the Shot, Recovering the Deer, and Very Impressive Broadhead Performance
The sounds of the crossbow firing and the arrow hitting its mark were intermingled, as the Rage-tipped arrow ate up the ten yards between crossbow and deer in approximately one tenth of a second. My eye recorded a fleeting impression of the arrow's bright orange and yellow vanes disappearing into the deer, and then she was jumping into the air, kicking her heels, and running away.
The deer ran almost directly away from me, but not for long.
She soon fell and thrashed a little, and no more than fifteen seconds after I had sent the arrow on its way, my deer was dead.
I cocked the crossbow again, but did not load it with an arrow until after I'd climbed down to the ground. It was then that the other deer finally ran away, blowing an alert to all the other deer in the area.
As I approached the spot where I'd hit the deer, I was awestruck. My arrow protruded from a small, tough tree, and between it and where the deer had been standing was a pattern of bright red blood on the forest floor. I have seen far less sign of a hit (and much sparser blood trails) after shooting deer with high-powered rifles.
The blood trail was very impressive, but thankfully I didn't need it, and I walked directly to my deer. She lay dead just 26 paces from where she had stood when I'd shot her. Her right side was facing up, and the broadhead's entrance wound was staring me in the face.
Upon seeing what the Rage had accomplished, my jaw dropped. Then I turned the deer over and saw the exit wound...
and the broken leg! In all, the arrow had hit just behind the right shoulder, broken one rib and nicked another on its way in, sliced the lungs and top of the heart, nicked two ribs on the way out of the chest cavity, and shattered the left front leg bone - all before sticking solidly into a tough little tree.
Wow.
(continued)
I headed back to the stand to get my camera. As I got to the base of the ladder, it truly hit me: I had gotten my first archery whitetail! What a feeling, more than sixteen years (and a number of skipped bow seasons) after my first bowhunt.
If my shoulder hadn't been bothering me, I might have used a compound bow rather than a crossbow, and I don't claim that a crossbow is as tough to use as other bows, but taking that whitetail with stick-and-string was still a milestone for me, and this is one hunt I'm not likely to forget.
Afterward, I told my buddy John that I didn't think the feeling I had was the same that would come from shooting a deer with a compound bow... but it was certainly worthwhile.
I dragged the deer closer to the road, then went to fetch John, and together we loaded the deer in my truck. Back at camp, close examination of the deer only left us more impressed with the performance of the Rage broadhead. I do have some misgivings about it, in some situations.
I don't believe the Rage head is a good solution for long shots, nor for low-energy bows. Its incredible effectiveness in this situation proves that it's extremely good in some situations, but tales of poor penetration are not rare - and I have to believe that is due (at least in part) to long shots and slow bows. But for fast bows with heavy arrows within proper range, I think the two-blade Rage is very hard to beat.
The hunt went on. John hunted the ladder stand that afternoon while I remained at the truck attempting to nap in the heat. He stuck it out through a lot of rain, because of the two bucks that had come almost within bow range just before the rain began.
The third time the bottom fell out of the sky, he called for an evac and we headed to camp. After a delightful supper of venison backstrap, rice, and gravy, we happily retired to our bunks.
(continued)
The following morning, John went back to the ladder stand. I took my climber to the tree he'd hunted the day before, and at 7:57, out stepped a mature doe and her young 'un, a button buck. He fed around for a while as mama tried to figure out what was strange about the situation.
I had some great opportunities to sling an arrow at her, but I already had one deer on ice and there's no sense getting greedy, especially since I had about four months of hunting season ahead of me.
At 8:04, the doe just got too suspicious about the lump on the side of the pine tree (me), so she ran off blowing with the young buck in tow.
That ended my deer sightings for the weekend, but shortly after 11:00 AM, John had two does and a button buck almost right on top of him, but was unable to draw his bow with those six eyes so nearby.
He also became disenchanted with his Rage broadheads, because he touched one to a tree trunk while trying to ease his bow into position on the deer, and the resulting "clink" of the blade disengaging caused the deer to change direction.
Rage two-blade heads definitely come open very easily, often at inopportune times. I hate it when that happens.
All in all, it turned out to be our best bowhunt to date, and it was only our first day-and-a-half hunting on our new lease. We had seen nine deer between us, most of them within bow range, and brought one of them home with us. I had gotten my first archery deer, John had drawn his bow on some deer, and we both had some valuable learning experiences.
Adrenaline by the quart, fresh venison in the cooler, new stories to tell, and smiles on our faces. It's certainly tough to ask for more.
- Russ Chastain
My first archery deer was a long time coming.
It was a great hunt. The weather didn't cooperate, but the deer did... and that was all we needed.
It was opening morning of Georgia's archery season, and I was less than an hour's drive north of the Florida state line, sitting in a double-wide ladder stand propped against a sizeable tree in a mosquito-filled creek bottom. The skeeters were keeping their distance, though, thanks to my Thermacell.
I had in my possession a Barnett Wildcat C5 crossbow and some other goodies I had recently purchased. I had owned the crossbow for just a few weeks, and it had already provided me with plenty of ups and downs, the most recent of which had resulted in my purchase of new arrows and broadheads less than a week earlier.
My old broadheads (three-blade Satellite Mag-125s) had started flying erratically, and I needed to change something fast. My arrows were spined a little limber, too. After a trip to Advantage Sports Center in Salt Springs, Florida and a consultation with Jim (the owner), I headed home with a lighter wallet, six new Horton Lightning Strike MX aluminum arrows, and a three-pack of Rage two-blade expandable broadheads.
I re-zeroed the bow, then shot the Rage practice head (there's one included with every pack of Rage broadheads). It flew perfectly - the first time. After that, not so much. In my opinion, the Rage two-blade practice head is junky and not very useful.
I was very hesitant to shoot one of the Rage broadheads at my "The Block 4x4 Pup" target (which I had bought at a benefit auction for 4-H Shooting Sports, a worthy organization).
Rage broadheads are overpriced - the three-pack I bought cost $43.99 plus tax. The Rage folks even clip you $25 plus shipping just for replacement blades.
(continued)
Rage Broadheads, Hot Weather, Steiner Binocs, and an Odd Squirrel
The high price (and the appearance of fragility) kept me from practicing with the Rage broadheads. So I placed my faith in the many hunters who have testified online that Rage heads fly just like field points, and I headed to the woods.
As I write this, I don't believe my Rage heads can be accurately described as fragile, and they're so simple in design that the term "mechanical," although accurate, almost seems too technical.
The weather was hot, and a moronic move on my part had resulted in some extra walking, so I was a bit heated when I got to the stand. The temperature was not far shy of 80 degrees, and humidity was bumping 100%. When deer hunting, I can live with sweat, but not sweat and skeeters. Without Thermacell, I would not have been there. But I was.
The stand had been recommended by a friend who'd said he'd never hunted there without having deer come within bow range. Pitting such a reputation against my usually-less-than-stellar luck was surely a gamble, and after three hours in the stand, it's possible that I was starting to wonder about Eddie. The hard seat cushion didn't help my opinion of the stand, but I still held out hope.
I had a pair of Steiner Peregrine XP 8x44 binoculars, on loan to me for review, and I spent a few minutes getting an eyeful of Tumor the Squirrel, a magnificent train wreck of a beast possessing both a beautifully-colored face and a disgusting infestation of tree squirrel bot fly larvae, which manifests itself as revolting hairless lumps on the squirrel's hide.
Such a creature is hard to look at, but (like a train wreck) hard not to take note of.
Duly impressed with the Steiners, which had provided me with a much clearer view of the parasite-ridden squirrel than was comfortable, I sat back and almost immediately heard a footstep in the leaves behind me and to my left.
(continued)
The Deer Make an Appearance, and I Take a Shot
After hearing the noise, I turned slowly to my left, looking down towards the ground. I caught a glimpse of tan hair and knew a deer was close, but then I spotted movement through the tree stand's burlap skirt and knew another deer was even closer. That one stepped right out into the open, and very shortly focused its attention on the tree stand in which I was perched.
The deer, an adult doe, stood less than ten yards away, directly to my left.
The cocked-and-loaded crossbow rested on the stand's front rail with its butt in my lap, with the "red dot" sight turned off, and the safety on.
I resisted the urge to look directly at the deer as she gazed up at me, because that will often spook 'em. I used my peripheral vision to keep tabs on her as I eased my right hand to the sight and turned it on, carefully eased the crossbow's safety into the fire position, and gripped the stock.
The doe continued to eyeball me intently, but as time passed she relaxed a bit, and from time to time she would look away or put her head down. Each time she did, I eased the crossbow a little closer to shooting position. Finally I slid my head behind the "red dot" sight (I had used the dial to select green rather than red) and couldn't believe that I was finally looking at the fairly-relaxed whitetail deer through the sight, with a green dot superimposed on my view.
Perhaps the doe couldn't believe it, either. She turned away and took a step or two, clearly headed elsewhere.
Then she turned broadside. When she did, I uttered a low "mermp," which stopped her. I placed the green dot on her side and squeezed the crossbow's trigger.
(continued)
Making the Shot, Recovering the Deer, and Very Impressive Broadhead Performance
The sounds of the crossbow firing and the arrow hitting its mark were intermingled, as the Rage-tipped arrow ate up the ten yards between crossbow and deer in approximately one tenth of a second. My eye recorded a fleeting impression of the arrow's bright orange and yellow vanes disappearing into the deer, and then she was jumping into the air, kicking her heels, and running away.
The deer ran almost directly away from me, but not for long.
She soon fell and thrashed a little, and no more than fifteen seconds after I had sent the arrow on its way, my deer was dead.
I cocked the crossbow again, but did not load it with an arrow until after I'd climbed down to the ground. It was then that the other deer finally ran away, blowing an alert to all the other deer in the area.
As I approached the spot where I'd hit the deer, I was awestruck. My arrow protruded from a small, tough tree, and between it and where the deer had been standing was a pattern of bright red blood on the forest floor. I have seen far less sign of a hit (and much sparser blood trails) after shooting deer with high-powered rifles.
The blood trail was very impressive, but thankfully I didn't need it, and I walked directly to my deer. She lay dead just 26 paces from where she had stood when I'd shot her. Her right side was facing up, and the broadhead's entrance wound was staring me in the face.
Upon seeing what the Rage had accomplished, my jaw dropped. Then I turned the deer over and saw the exit wound...
and the broken leg! In all, the arrow had hit just behind the right shoulder, broken one rib and nicked another on its way in, sliced the lungs and top of the heart, nicked two ribs on the way out of the chest cavity, and shattered the left front leg bone - all before sticking solidly into a tough little tree.
Wow.
(continued)
I headed back to the stand to get my camera. As I got to the base of the ladder, it truly hit me: I had gotten my first archery whitetail! What a feeling, more than sixteen years (and a number of skipped bow seasons) after my first bowhunt.
If my shoulder hadn't been bothering me, I might have used a compound bow rather than a crossbow, and I don't claim that a crossbow is as tough to use as other bows, but taking that whitetail with stick-and-string was still a milestone for me, and this is one hunt I'm not likely to forget.
Afterward, I told my buddy John that I didn't think the feeling I had was the same that would come from shooting a deer with a compound bow... but it was certainly worthwhile.
I dragged the deer closer to the road, then went to fetch John, and together we loaded the deer in my truck. Back at camp, close examination of the deer only left us more impressed with the performance of the Rage broadhead. I do have some misgivings about it, in some situations.
I don't believe the Rage head is a good solution for long shots, nor for low-energy bows. Its incredible effectiveness in this situation proves that it's extremely good in some situations, but tales of poor penetration are not rare - and I have to believe that is due (at least in part) to long shots and slow bows. But for fast bows with heavy arrows within proper range, I think the two-blade Rage is very hard to beat.
The hunt went on. John hunted the ladder stand that afternoon while I remained at the truck attempting to nap in the heat. He stuck it out through a lot of rain, because of the two bucks that had come almost within bow range just before the rain began.
The third time the bottom fell out of the sky, he called for an evac and we headed to camp. After a delightful supper of venison backstrap, rice, and gravy, we happily retired to our bunks.
(continued)
The following morning, John went back to the ladder stand. I took my climber to the tree he'd hunted the day before, and at 7:57, out stepped a mature doe and her young 'un, a button buck. He fed around for a while as mama tried to figure out what was strange about the situation.
I had some great opportunities to sling an arrow at her, but I already had one deer on ice and there's no sense getting greedy, especially since I had about four months of hunting season ahead of me.
At 8:04, the doe just got too suspicious about the lump on the side of the pine tree (me), so she ran off blowing with the young buck in tow.
That ended my deer sightings for the weekend, but shortly after 11:00 AM, John had two does and a button buck almost right on top of him, but was unable to draw his bow with those six eyes so nearby.
He also became disenchanted with his Rage broadheads, because he touched one to a tree trunk while trying to ease his bow into position on the deer, and the resulting "clink" of the blade disengaging caused the deer to change direction.
Rage two-blade heads definitely come open very easily, often at inopportune times. I hate it when that happens.
All in all, it turned out to be our best bowhunt to date, and it was only our first day-and-a-half hunting on our new lease. We had seen nine deer between us, most of them within bow range, and brought one of them home with us. I had gotten my first archery deer, John had drawn his bow on some deer, and we both had some valuable learning experiences.
Adrenaline by the quart, fresh venison in the cooler, new stories to tell, and smiles on our faces. It's certainly tough to ask for more.
- Russ Chastain
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