It’s opening day of the 2002 bow-hunting season here in Ohio. 

My best friend and I, Dave Walters, put up four stands and a blind in August to optimize our chances of taking a whitetail in October. I chose to hunt a stand along a wide man-made trail in the woods where one of last year’s rub lines started.  To be honest with you, it’s more of an experiment than anything.  Although they are definitely in the area, I’m not absolutely sure the deer we’ve spent the last several months scouting are going in this direction after a night’s feeding.

6 a.m. finds me in the stand, safety harness secured and an arrow knocked.  I’m ready.  Watching the stars, I listen to the pre-dawn sounds of the insects still active in the mild temperatures.

About 6:40 a.m. the stars are slowly fading from view and the birds begin to wake, the symphony begins.  Just a few at first but the numbers quickly grow. 

There are Robins singing.  Blue Jays squawk and Cardinals sing a song that seems to express their joy of being alive.  Maybe it’s me that so happy to be alive.

Was that a twig snapping under a deer’s foot?  Maybe. But it’s too dark to shoot even if it was. 

This is awesome!  What a privilege just to be here!

                I decide to stand and draw my bow to work out any stiffness from having sat for 30 minutes or more.  I turn left and right, focusing the best I can in the dim early morning light on all the possible shooting opportunities available to me.

            I’m confident that everything is in place.  All I have to do is wait for the sun to offer enough light to shoot.  Already the adrenaline is beginning to flow as the anticipation and thought of taking my first deer of the season swells in my mind.  I sit back down for a moment to relax.  As I do, my arrow falls off its rest to the ground below.  I don’t think that’s what they meant by zero effect.  Gee, my arrow sure looks lonely down there.  Wish I could rescue the poor thing but obviously I can’t get off the stand to retrieve it so I nock another arrow making sure it “snaps” firmly into place.  Glad there isn’t anyone looking. This is embarrassing.

            About 6:50 a.m., I can see my sight pins glowing in the soft light so I decide it’s time to stand up once again (the second arrow stays where it belongs).  I’m hoping to intercept a deer as it makes it’s way to the bedding area from the alfalfa field 200 yards to the north.

            We had a good rain just the day before season opened so things are quiet. Sometime after 7 o’clock I hear a couple of footsteps and a small, basket rack 8 point steps into view.

            My shooting lane to the north is only about 15 yards wide but it’s enough of an opening that the deer stops to investigate his surroundings. 

A ten-yard shot slightly quartering forward, I take aim and let the arrow fly.  I hear a solid “thump” as the arrow passes through the animal’s rib cage on the right side.  The shot is a bit high and a little back but it passes through the right lung and liver as it exits the back of the rib cage on the left side.

 The buck, a bit confused at first, runs to my west. I watch the first 20 yards of his escape as he disappears over the crest of a hill.

            Now you may be asking what does this have to do with physical fitness?  OK. I admit. Telling my story is a lot of fun.  But, remember that hill the buck went over as he ran from the inevitable?  Not only did I have to drag him back up that hill about 100 yards but also he ran across a swamp at the bottom and another 40 yards or so back to the north.  Dragging him across that swamp and back up the hill is what this story has to do with physical fitness.

            All the years of going to the gym and pumping iron: All those miles I’ve walked and ran to stay aerobically fit paid off at that moment. 

            Now granted, the deer, which was most likely less than two years old, wasn’t a large deer. In fact I’m sure he wouldn’t have tipped the scales at 150 pounds total weight.  But you know as well as I do, even a small deer can get heavy quick when the terrain is mostly uphill.

Yes, I could have gone to get Dave off his stand to help me but he was hunting and I wanted to prove to myself that I could do this. 

Call it a “Right of Passage” if you will.  Call it whatever you want.  To me it was all part of the hunt.  It was all part of the excitement of harvesting an animal and bringing it home. 

It’s the same when it comes to processing the deer.  I don’t like to take my deer to the processors.  Don’t get me wrong they do a great job.  I’m just particular about the way the meat is cut and my wife, my parents and I do it the way I like it done.

            But, I digress.  

            When I finally reached the top of the hill I was physically tired but not spent.  What a great adventure!  The deer now lay just a few yards from where it all started, and the satisfaction and excitement of completing that which I set out to do was indescribable. 

You know what I’m talking about because you’ve had the same experience.  The adrenaline has rushed through your veins just like it did mine.  And you have had the same smile on your face as you looked down on your opening day trophy.  Maybe it wasn’t the biggest deer in the woods but it was a trophy to you none-the-less.

            My sincere hope and desire is that you and I will get to do this as long as we possibly can.  I truly believe that by staying fit, we as bow-hunters will be able to enjoy more fully all those opening days for many years to come.

PS…I did get my dad’s tractor and trailer to haul the deer the last half-mile to the house.

Live well and good hunting!

Tim Dickerson -  Bow-Hunter