Thursday, March 16, 2017By: Ted Nugent
FINALLY! After all that practice and dedication, 100s tortuous pre-dawn arousals and late nights getting home, after all those nerve wracking, patience testing hours, days and weeks in the treestand, FINALLY, a shooter deer is in range, broadside and looking the other way!
Nerve endings a-twitter, neck-hairs quivering at attention, muscles tense and pulsating, breath gasping in spurts, eyes watering, all of a sudden we kick into reasoning predator muscle/spirit memory overdrive, settle down, breathe smooth, relax, aim small miss small, draw like a bowhunting ballerina and let ‘er rip!
Dear God in Heaven above, our mystical flight of the arrow is indeed the path of our soul and the beast takes it in the pumpstation and scrambles off helter-skelter in a surefire deathrun.
We slump back against the tree, air whooshes from our overtaxed lungs, eyes roll back into our skulls and a super bad nationwide grin stretches across our face with a fistpumping hallelujah like no other fistpumping HALLELUJAH ever to be had!
It feels so wonderful that sometimes we are at a loss as to just what to do or say.
Even after 1000s and 1000s of arrows and 1000s and 1000s of hunts and 1000s and 1000s of kills, all the above takes place each and every time for me.
With all the hunting TV shows out there these days we all get to witness an unending variety of reactions and emotions from an unlimited assortment of diverse and individual hunters as they live out the hunt for all the world to see.