Almost Heaven Part II

Here is part two of Warren Phillips’ story.

Enjoy!

Almost Heaven Continued

If you create a monster, you have to feed it. Just ask Dr. Frankenstein. Now that I’d created a hunting monster, I’d have to feed him. Before we knew it, Daniel was 10 and it was time to start thinking about a return engagement in West Virginia. Long hours of practice and training filled the spring and summer months of 2006. I’m not much for hunting on the ground myself, opting for the elevated view of a treestand. Personal preference. At 10, Daniel wasn’t especially fond of heights, so I set up my dad’s ladder stand in our backyard in hopes of teaching him to hunt comfortably from a stand. The stand is 16 feet to the top and as I placed it against a tree I noticed Daniel’s color change. Looking up at the top of the stand, his face became a distinct greenish color. This wasn’t going to be easy, but I was determined to get him in that stand. I really felt like our chances would be better off the ground.

Though he tried, he just couldn’t bring himself to get up in that stand. He’d climb up a few rungs on the ladder and freeze. I didn’t blame him one bit. I nearly threw up the first time I sat in that same stand and it had taken me several years and lots of practice to get to the point where I’m comfortable up high in a treestand. One day I was talking with a friend about getting Daniel up in the stand and he suggested that I lower it significantly. That way, Daniel would be able to practice the transition from the ladder to the platform closer to ground level. I removed 3 of the 4 ladder sections and set it up. With the stand height now only 4 feet, Daniel was easily able to get onto the platform and get a feel for sitting in the stand. After a few tries at that height, I added another section and raised the stand to 8 feet. There it remained for several weeks and Daniel had all but convinced himself that it was plenty high enough to hunt from, but I knew better. Finally one day I added a third section to the ladder and increased its height to 12 feet. Daniel wasn’t thrilled with the idea so I told him that he didn’t have to get up there, but he did have to try. Worked like a charm. He climbed right to the top and transitioned onto the platform with ease. I decided not to press him further for fear of scaring him off, so he would hunt at 12 feet.

We’d spent months practicing and training and now it was November 2006 and time to head back to West Virginia. This time, we opted to hunt Thanksgiving week. Daniel and I left on Saturday. That would give us time on Sunday to set up our stands and be rested for the hunt. We headed up the mountain on Monday morning well before daylight and the hunt was on. This time it would be different, though. Since we’d be in treestands about 15 yards apart, I would not be able to coach Daniel through potential shot opportunities. We did develop a series of hand signals, but aside from that he was pretty much on his own. If a deer gave him a good look, he’d have to make the decision himself.

By Tuesday afternoon we’d seen several deer, but none close enough for a shot. Around 4pm things turned for the better. I heard the sound of leaves softly crushing and looked over my shoulder. A small deer appeared, moving up the hill towards us. I got Daniel’s attention and pointed out the deer. You should have seen his face. That deer was headed right for us and he knew it. School was out and it was time for the rubber to hit the road. Could he do it? Years of deer hunting had taught me how difficult it is to remain undetected, especially when deer are at close range. Toss in all the movement required to draw a bow and the scales suddenly tip heavily in favor of the deer. And that’s before you even factor in nerves.

I know how I get at times like this – shortness of breath, shaky hands and knocking knees. My heart moves up into my throat and pounds a mile a minute. I’m 43 and have been hunting deer for years. What must my 10-year old son be going through right now? If he was nervous, he sure didn’t show it much. I watched with a mixture of pride and amazement as he zeroed in on that deer and made all the right moves. Slowly and quietly he stood, reached for his bow and positioned himself for a shot. When the deer raised its head from feeding, he froze. Now at about 8 yards, the deer was feeding on apples, but he was quartering to, not away from, Daniel. I was stunned at his patience. All our training had paid off. He really had been paying attention after all. Finally, after what seemed like eternity, the deer fed broadside and I got to watch as my son drew his bow on live game for the very first time. He released his arrow and we watched as it sailed just over the deer’s back. Ugh! My heart sank. His probably stopped. He’d missed cleanly and the deer had hopped over past me and was trying to figure out what just happened. After a few seconds it decided that the apples were worth the risk and returned to feeding. It even stopped and sniffed Daniel’s arrow that was sticking out of the ground as it returned to the apples.

By now Daniel had already nocked another arrow, shaken off the miss and was preparing for another shot attempt. It didn’t take long for the deer to present another broadside shot, this time at 11 yards. The second arrow was low and flew right under the deer’s belly. It hopped through a barbed wire fence and I looked over to see Daniel seated in his stand with his head down. I whispered for him to nock another arrow in case the deer came back again and gave him a “thumbs up” for his effort. As daylight faded, we headed for the house. I comforted him with some tales of deer that I’ve missed (there’s plenty) and told him how proud I was of what he’d accomplished that day. Back at the house, Robert and Keith encouraged him as well. What a day it had been.

Wednesday morning found us back on the mountain. Around 8 o’clock I once again heard the tell tale crunch of leaves and saw the same little deer headed our way. I motioned for Daniel to get ready and he prepared for another shot at the same deer he’d missed twice the night before. Moments later, he was releasing an arrow for a 12 yard, broadside shot. I watched as the arrow struck its target solidly. My son had just shot his first deer! What a thrill. I regret not having a camera in hand to record the look on that boy’s face when that arrow hit that deer.

To say he was pumped would be an understatement. I was coming out of my skin. The deer disappeared over the ridge and I thought it might have fallen, but I couldn’t confirm that visually so we waited. Via radio I informed Daniel that we’d wait a minimum of an hour, longer if I suspected that the deer moved again. His shot was solid, but way too far back. Given what his nerves must have been doing, it’s a miracle that he even made the shot. A few minutes later, Daniel informed me that when the arrow hit, he saw blood flying everywhere and that there was plenty of blood on the leaves heading out across the ridge. I looked around my tree and could see the blood in the leaves even from my stand. That I felt was a good sign.

Though Daniel lobbied to start tracking in 30 minutes, I stuck to my guns and made him wait the full hour. The deer had bled to death inside 50 yards of the shot. When we rolled it over, we found that Daniel had taken a little button buck. An immature hunter matching wits with an immature deer, this was fair chase hunting at its best.

As long as I live, I’ll never forget the sound of that arrow hitting that deer, or the look on my son’s face when he realized that he’d made the shot. Neither will Daniel. I took my first deer at 27 with a 12-gauge shotgun. My son took his first deer at 10 with a bow. Guess who wins bragging rights? John Denver was right. West Virginia really is “Almost Heaven.”

Here is a photo of Daniel with his first deer. Congratulations!