Who Will Blink First?

This buck is screened by a tree and brush; Wait for him to move
photo courtesy Dave Richey Outdoors ©2012

It takes some age and an abundance of hunting experience to accomplish one of the most difficult things in bow hunting: determining when not to take a shot. There are times when taking a bow shot at a buck just doesn’t make sense.

I was sitting in one of my stands last October. Deer movements were slow, and going home and soaking up some heat seemed a good idea. A bad thing about taking a shot under iffy conditions is knowing that if the deer is not killed, it will be spooky of that area in the future.

Some say a deer's memory is less than five minutes, but I'm convinced that while deer do not think as we do, they react to instinct. A close call can cause a buck to change his travel patterns.

My decision was the right one: I'd sit and wait. There was no rush as plenty of shooting time remained, but I'm constantly amazed at how long a buck can remain motionless. This buck never moved a muscle, but yet, it had to move forward or sideways to offer a shot.

Sometimes it’s just a wise decision to wait out a deer

It chose to stand still and only its head moved very slightly. It moved its head an inch or two when other deer filtered past me, but I believe that some game animals can sense potential danger.

This buck seemed rooted stiffly in place, and he stood as still as a statue and never moved. I can set still for long periods of time, but this old boy's life depended on his choice of action. He stood, immobile, waiting and watching for something to confirm his suspicions.

Thirty minutes passed, and like a case of stare-down between two people, someone had to blink. It was me, and although I knew the buck couldn't see my eyes, he seemed to sense when I blinked.

He whirled and disappeared back into the tag alders. Other deer spurted away, frightened by his sudden actions, and they were visible momentarily before all was quiet again.

Such experience makes one wonder about whitetail deer

I sat back, and thought about our standoff. It was nothing I did or he did that resulted in his flight except me blinking my eyes. I was wearing a face mask, and he couldn't see my eyes. Turkey hunters swear an incoming gobbler will see the waiting hunter blink.

Maybe it's so. I certainly don't know everything about whitetail deer, but I do know this buck sensed danger. When his nerves couldn't stand the strain, he bolted.

It's what caused him to run is the question, and the answer is yet to be determined. I can’t believe he saw or even sensed me. It’s such encounters that make hunters wonder what they did wrong.

In all likelihood, the deer may have been spooked earlier, and was still a bit owly about that experience. It’s as good a theory as any.

Tune in on the does, and they will lead you to a buck

Small but smart bucks give way to the bully

The doe was acting a bit shaky last fall. She would stop, start, and move a bit, but from my elevated stand, my attention was riveted on the late-October whitetail doe.

Her actions were keeping me informed on where the buck was standing, out of sight. I couldn't see the antlered buck from my vantage point downwind of the doe and buck, but the antlerless deer was some kind of agitated. The buck was nearby, of that there was little question, and her sides were heaving from being chased.

The buck had apparently bird-dogged the doe across the field and through the woods, but this was the chasing stage, one of my favorite times to hunt. She was close to estrus, but she wasn't quite ready for breeding. But, chasing primes the pump, so to speak.

A panting does has been chased a long distance

The buck knew that, and there seems to be a direct correlation between the chasing phase and the beginning of the rut. Biologists feel a buck chasing the doe gets both animals  ready for the breeding period.

My bow was ready, and although I suspected a big buck was chasing this doe, I had yet to see the animal. The doe, by her actions, told me where the buck was, and whether he was standing still or moving.

She kept peering back into the heavy brush, and try as I may, the buck was impossible to see although there was no doubt in my mind that he was there. The doe was twitchy; moving, stopping, switching her tail, and turning to face the brush before turning and facing her body away from the buck but looking back over her shoulder.

She was sending body language signals to the buck, and he was moving slightly. Her ears would twitch up, swivel toward some sound unheard by me, and then the buck would apparently stop. I was beginning to think these two deer would carry on like this for hours.

In reality, as the sun headed toward the western horizon, the doe moved slightly toward the buck, and then wheeled and ran off 20 yards before stopping to look back. She was getting this old boy fired up, and her message apparently was getting through to him.

Her head movements pinpointed the buck’s location, and it took 10 minutes of probing the alder brush before my binoculars picked out the white bone of an antler tine. The buck was standing stock still, not moving, and contently letting the doe lead the show.

I knew this wouldn't last forever, and sooner or later the buck would make his move. The doe would let me know when that was about to happen.

Her ears perked up again, her head changed positions, and I knew the buck had moved again. The binoculars scanned the area where the buck had stood, and sure enough, he was gone. I followed the direction of her head, and after five minutes of looking, found the buck again.

Watch the doe and other bucks and she’ll lead you to the big boy

He was getting closer to the edge of cover, and by now, the sun had set. There was less than 30 minutes of shooting time left, and I knew he would soon take up the chase again. The big question was whether he would offer a shot or choose to circle the doe, and force her into running off with him in hot pursuit.

Ten minutes of shooting time remained when the action started. The doe whirled at the sound of his first tending grunt, and she cut a lick for the open field, running hard. The buck was patient, and he slowly moved toward the edge of cover on a wooded ridge, and watched her go. He knew he could track her down.

He had only to move 10 yards in my direction, and it would be possible for a shot. He moved half that distance, stopped, and my bow was up and ready. When he moved, he exploded from cover like a ruffed grouse taking wing, and was at an instant gallop.

He offered no opportunity for a shot, even though I was ready, and as he began moving, it was easy to tell he was a high and wide 10-point with good mass. He crashed off through the brush, and there is no doubt he caught and bred that doe that night.

The lesson behind this anecdote is to study does during the pre-rut and rut seasons. They can, by their head and body language, tell the hunter where the buck is and what he is doing.

Be patient and play the waiting game

There are many times when this leads to a shot, and there are times when luck is riding along with the buck. However, study this body language as often as possible, and learn more about hunting bucks. The does can teach hunters this very  important lesson, and bow hunters who don't spook does but study their actions will often take a nice buck.

You can bet on it.

Posted via email from Dave Richey Outdoors

Eye problems kicking up

Deer moved in with cold temperatures and some snow.

Guess what I did tonight? I sat out in a deer stand in a blustery little snow storm.

No bow, no rifle, no muzzleloader. Just me, the cold winter weather and the deer. I've been preaching cold weather and storms for as long as I can remember as the key ingredient to successful deer hunting.

The philosophy is that a cold snap, combined with a change in weather (a snow storm was moving through) will make deer move. Well, tonight proved what I've known for years. The deer did move because I had them within 20 yards of me.

Mind you, there weren't many deer but I was happy o see a spike, doe and fawn.

OK, I know which question is coming. What was I doing sitting out in a deer stand on a cold winter evening in mid-January, two weeks after the hunting season had ended?

It's said there is no such thing as a silly or stupid question. The quick and easy answer was I was there on purpose. I wanted to prove my theory that cold weather and snow makes deer move.

There was another reason I was there. I practicing seeing in the woods through snow, hoping to spot deer. It was difficult seeing deer toward the end of the 2010 season. and it's still difficult. I see movement fairly well but my vision isn't keen in my right eye, and I have no perceptible vision in my left eye..

There are two major problems. My left eye sees only some shades of light and dark, and my left-eye vision is measured by "finger movement at six inches." That is what I see at that distance. The other problem is the left eye had seven surgeries for glaucoma, and my vision is gone and the doctor and a glaucoma specialist had a meeting with me two months ago.

The bottom line here is deciding whether further surgery on my right eye will perk up my vision or not. So far, I've had 19 eye surgeries since I was found to have glaucoma more than 30 years ago. Each surgery seens to help for awhile, and then my vision decreases.

Another eye surgery is still up in the air.

The gist of a three-way conversation between me and the doctors was this would probably be a tricky surgery with no guarantees. The eye is fragile, and anyone of a number of bad things could happen. It is something much different than that with a person who doesn't have good eyes. All of those surgeries means even more scar tissue to contend with and there are no guarantees it will help.

They will do their best when the surgery date rolls around, and I will do my best to be a good patient, but one always wonders. I've been through so many other eye surgeries, and I've always been optimistic about the outcome. of each one. I refusee to be pessimistic.

I'm optimistic now even though little niggling thoughts pop into my mind on rare occasions. Nice thoughts like "What will you do if the operation doesn't solve the problem?" Such thoughts are negative, and a detriment to a positive thinking person.

Such thoughts are counter-productive. It's easier to believe the surgery, if one does takes place, will be a success again.

Some of you may have seen a slight decrease in my output over the past two months. The reason is simple: it's not that I'm getting lazy, although at 71, I could claim that right quite easily.

The truth is my vision has worsened dramatically over the past two months. Seeing anything clearly with my right eye has been difficult. As a result I've had to cut back on my writing. It's not a case of wanting to but more a matter of having to.

I should know for certain within three week, perhaps less. Bear with me.

Soon they will tell me when, or  if, the surgery will take place. That leads to a periodic spate of unanswerable questions. I refuse to wallow on the pity-pot, and feel sorry for myself. More than anything, I want the surgery over and done with, as soon as possible, and let me get on with my life.

That's where tonight's setting out to watch deer came into play. We visited a friend who owns some land, and he has quite a few deer on his property. The air was cold, the wind from the northwest, and snow was being driven ahead of it.

At 4:45 p.m., eight does and fawns stepped out of the thick brush and moved past me. Two minutes later a small buck, moved past. It was a spike, a young deer with his first tiny antlers.


And as suddenly as the deer movement began, and started to blow the cobwebs from my brain, the deer movement ended. A buddy sat a half-mile away, and experienced similar deer movements and sightings.

The sit gave me a memory I'll never forget, and what will likely occur when they administer the anesthetic before surgery, I'll be dreaming about a windswept night when a small buck and tw0 does treated me to a thrill that will never disappear from my memory.

I shall keep you posted as everything plays out, and it's likely I may be off the computer for a few days as my eye heals. Just remember this one thing: I write these daily blogs for two parties -- you and me.

I need to write it as much as you need to read it.

Posted via email from Dave Richey Outdoors

Blood trailing wounded deer

If a buck lies down, gets back up and runs off, stay on the trail for this trophy.

As much as a bow hunter may dislike it, some knowledge of blood trailing is required for those occasional times when a shot is taken just as a deer begins to move. The result may be the arrow entrance wound is off slightly, and a trailing job is required.

There are several rules to follow. The first is to use people with excellent vision to follow the blood trail. I used to be sharp on spotting blood until glaucoma robbed me of some of my vision.

Now, I am always ready to help. I always stay with the last blood as people with keen eyesight take the blood trail. I help keep the trailers centered and keep us from following a blood trail that we've already covered.

Three people make an ideal trailing team. Forget the mob scene.

Another part of a this necessary trailing job is to limit the number of participants. Mob scenes with six or eight people casting about for sign makes an easy job much more difficult. Often, blood can only be seen when traveling in one direction, and too many people usually manage to trample most of the sign into the ground or snow. Use only those people who have demonstration a keen ability to spot blood, know enough to check other trail when the sign is lost, and who can anticipate when the wounded animal is close.

We've learned over many years to give suspect (those hits that may not be immediately fatal) two hours before we take up the track. We head back to the house, relax, warm up, have something to eat, and then return to pick up the track. Often, if the shot is suspect, a two-hour wait will result in finding the deer immediately.

Here's how we do it: Two people take the track with each person walking two or three feet off to each side of the trail. A third person hangs back to stay with the last blood sign. Lacking a third person, small strips of white tissue paper or orange surveyor's tape will work although it won't prevent someone from doubling back and picking up the same blood trail again. A person sticking with the last blood can usually help prevent unintentional back tracking.

The two men work slowly if necessary or fast if a good blood trail is present. It's important they don't over-run the blood trail very far.

A wounded deer usually follow a well established trail, and then start to circle or meander around as blood loss takes over. Or, the trail may peter out and the trailers must spread out, and follow other trails until more blood is found again. Often, if a deer is hit on higher ground, the animal will almost always head downhill and back toward bedding cover.

Stay with the blood trails and don’t get off that trail.

I was with a friend who wounded a deer. He has eyes like an eagle, and saw where the deer entered heavy cover. The blood trail was weak but we found several places where it laid down and bled, and then got back up and ran without bleeding at all. We found the animal only 75 yards into the woods, but some of the trailing was done on our hands and knees, and covering those 75 yards took us over one hour.

It's important to know where the deer was hit, and often the hair color or texture will indicate the wound location. As much as a blood trail is important, and a knowledge of hair color and texture is, it's vitally important to see where the arrow struck the animal.

A deer hit in the guts or liver should be given at least two hours to lay down and stiffen up. A minor flesh wound, if quickly followed, will result in a fast trailing job. The faster the travel, the less chance there is of the blood clotting, and the greater the chance of recovery. However, such marathon trailing jobs may cover a mile or two as the deer continue to run in front of us.

Hunters must learn to think like a deer. Most deer will stick to main deer trails, but as they begin to weaken, they often begin to circle, bump into trees or stumble. That deer is usually recovered within 25 to 50 yards.

Use a Game Tracker when bow hunting. It will help hunters recover more deer.

We advocate the use of a Game Tracker tracking device. It gives us a clear line of travel, but sometimes the line will break. The longer the string stays with a wounded deer, the better the chance of recovery.

There is an art to blood trailing a deer. It's not difficult to learn, but experience is a great teacher. None of us enjoy a blood trailing job, and most of us don't enjoy moving through the woods after dark, but it is a job that ethical deer hunters must do.

Reducing a wounded deer to possession is our No. 1 priority. Giving up on a blood trail after five minutes is not acceptable. We stay on the trail until it becomes obvious that the wound is not life-threatening, and even then, we often return the next day and try again. Sometimes coming back during daylight hours will make successful blood trailing much easier.

One important thing to remember is that an unrecovered animal will usually be tracked down by a pack of coyotes, and they will eat a deer alive. Nothing should suffer that kind of death. Coyotes are on the rise everywhere that deer are found, and often it becomes a race to see who gets to the deer first.

True deer hunters respect the animals we hunt, and following a blood trail to the deer is what we do. It's our responsibility to do so.

Posted via email from Dave Richey Outdoors

Never take vision for granted

Operations do not scare me. They never have and probably never will.

There have been so many eye surgeries: nine on my right eye, the only one that works, and nine on the left. Surgeries have been common in my life.

It's been almost a 30-year slugfest against glaucoma. My left eye is sightless. Obviously, there is great concern for further right-eye surgeries or any additional vision loss but that thought doesn't rule my life.

This blog is written in hopes that readers will have their vision tested at least once each year after turning 40 years old, and have them checked for glaucoma. You may see well now, but most people take their vision for granted, which was hammered home years ago after undergoing my first eye surgery.

Don’t put off eye checks yearly after age 40.

Before glaucoma came visiting, no one in the Richey family ever had glaucoma ... until me. We really didn't know that it is the greatest sight robber of all. My father developed glaucoma late in life, and my twin brother was on the bubble for glaucoma when he died almost seven years ago.

My vision was never great, and never was 20-20 corrected vision found in our family. My brother began wearing glasses in kindergarden, and thick glasses covered my face, so it's been glasses or contact lens from that day forward. My life for the past 30 years has became one of daily eye drops and eye surgeries.

It was after my first glaucoma surgery more than 25 years ago that the idea of looking and seeing, and paying attention to things unseen earlier in my life, became so important. My glaucoma came on suddenly with headaches, blurred vision and preliminary tests were done, and just six months after an all-clear eye exam that included a glaucoma check.

And then came even more complicated tests as doctors determined that my intraocular (inner eye) pressure was four times higher than normal.

Glaucoma pressure at a higher-than-normal rate causes pinching of the optic nerve. The more the nerve is pinched, the more vision loss is noted. By the time they determined that glaucoma had settled in, some of my vision had already been lost. My depth perception headed downhill, stumbling over things became a problem, and peripheral vision was soon lost as more and more open doors suddenly jumped out at me.

The early surgeries helped some, but the vision loss kept disappearing like a desert mirage. Outdoor walks, hunts and fishing trips with friends became more meaningful, and stopping to study the spring flowers and to smell the roses, became much more important as time went by.

Soon those spawning salmon and steelhead that had been so easy to spot, were now very difficult to see, even with polarized sunglasses. More than once an improper step found me plunging into river bank holes, and on more than one occasion, my wader-clad boots would trip over an unseen  submerged log and I'd come crawling and splashing ashore through cold water.

My companions thought it was funny, and we laughed at my apparent clumsiness, but it wasn't a case of being clumsy. It was caused by poor vision. No longer was the river bottom or a drifting dry fly visible.

Glaucoma creeps up on its victims without warning.

The times spent outdoors have become more dear in recent years. It's easy now to marvel at glowing sunrises and sunset, and although grouse hunting was always a passion, there are more missed birds now than ever before. If grouse scoot out the sides, my peripheral vision misses them. Once every 10 flushes a bird may be seen somewhat clearly, but that doesn't necessarily translate into a hefty bird in my game bag.

It's still possible to hunt deer, and many folks ask why my bow range for deer is 15 yards or less, and the answer is the animals can't be seen clearly enough at 20-25 yards to make an accurate shot. Knowing my limitations, and hunting within them is my key to success. Give me a rifle with a quality scope, and there are no missed shots. The magnification allows me to place the bullet accurately, but one can't walk around with a scope to his eye.

It's become necessary to adapt to this problem. My lack of vision and my life has changed and my thought is to ask my valued readers to learn from my situation. Get your eyes checked once a year after the age of 40. Glaucoma damage to an eye is irreversible, and once the disease settles in. you’re on a slippery down-hill slope for severe vision loss or blindness.

Hunting and fishing has been my life, and now it is slowly changing, and this points out that life holds no guarantees for any of us. My operations have helped save my right-eye vision. My life could be much worse, and I can still fish and hunt although much less effectively than years ago.

Eye infections are fairly common but the treatment is rather extreme.

Three times when one eye or the other developed a severe infection, immediate medical attention was needed to prevent total blindness. If you’re squeamish, skip this paragraph. Treatment includes, but is not limited to, six needles to the affected eye.

Three needles go in to remove the infected intraocular fluid, and three more go in with sterile fluid. My fingerprints are still embedded in the doctor’s chair. I’m sure from the first such problem, and trust me on this, it certainly doesn’t get any easier with future infections.

Much of my time is still spent outdoors. Winter days are spent tracking bunnies and squirrels around the house or wherever life takes me, and hours are spent watching birds from my kitchen window. It’s easy to drink up the outdoor sights like a 21-year-old chugging their first brew.

Ice fishing has become a special pleasure for me but extra caution is require to keep from slipping and hitting my foolish head on the ice.

My thought is to store outdoor memories, to place mental pictures in my mind of things seen and done, and places visited in the past, and if my surgeries don't do the job in the future, there are memories stored that can be revisited whenever the urge gets strong.

Don't feel sorry for me, nor shed a tear on my behalf, and please don't pity me. My life has been one wonderful adventure after another. Day after day, week after week, and year after year for more than 43 years, the outdoors has been my private banquet table where one could feast heartily on all sorts of wonderful and exciting fishing and hunting experiences.

Any upcoming eye surgeries will be considered just another of life’s bumps in the road. Each new day is another adventure as time is spent looking forward to another neat experience.

Time will tell, but one way or the other, any surgeries needed will take place. So, until then, my vast warehouse of memories continues to grow, and some occasionally find their way into my weblogs.

So, never take your vision for granted, live each day to its fullest, and suck up all outdoor memories like a new kitchen sponge. One day we may need them to flow vividly through our mind's eye as we remember and recreate a scenario that was a major high point in our lives … once upon a time.

Posted via email from Dave Richey Outdoors