What happens when you shoot...and miss?
Heidi Esau
Unless you are unnaturally lucky or haven't been hunting for very long, chances are you've had that sinking feeling when you take a shot...and miss, or make a poor shot and never recover the animal.
I'll bring you up to speed on where I'm coming from. Opening day of whitetail season in Manitoba, August 31st. Troy and I found childcare for the kiddos and had one of those rare evenings where we got to go out and sit together. Now, Troy's been hunting since he was old enough to, and I've been hunting for about 12 years now. We hunted together a fair bit in my early years of hunting as Troy taught me the ropes. Then, as I became a confident hunter on my own, we would start to split up more to cover more bush. Soon enough the kids came along, and 99% of the time we are hunting solo while the other one of us parents. So, this was a rare and special evening.
We got to our chosen spot for the evening and with a bit of figuring, got ourselves situated in a tree. Troy had previously put up a treestand and had brought his self-climber, which he hung slightly above the treestand. Troy was on film duty, and I had the bow in hand. Now, if you don't know us, this is our first season seriously filming our hunts. We have dabbled in filming over the years, but nothing serious and always just so we could watch it back at home. With Troy taking on the cameraman role, we decided that he would also have the rangefinder, so my hands would be completely free, with just my bow. The plan was that he would quietly tell me the range on any deer within shooting distance and everything should work perfectly! Or not.
What are the chances that on opening day, a decent 4x4 in full velvet with split G2 follows the script exactly how you plan? Pretty slim, but it happened. Sure enough, a deer that we had never seen on camera comes sauntering in. I hear Troy say 31 yards, put the pin on him and let the arrow fly....right over his back. What happened? I thought I had made a perfect shot. I ask Troy what the range was on him and he says 21 yards. My heart sank. I missed a beautiful deer because of one tiny miscommunication. It was a cool evening and I was wearing a toque that was covering my ears, so perhaps this is the reason that I misheard him, but maybe it just wasn't meant to be.
So where do we go from there? Obviously, I was pretty bummed out that evening. Initially, I didn't want Troy to send the film footage to anyone because I was embarrassed that I missed the shot, but the more I thought about it, the more I knew it was nothing to be embarrassed about. It's hunting, and it's a part of life as a hunter. If the deer had been at 31 yards, I can guarantee that I'd already be eating fresh venison, but that's not how my story ended this year, and so far, the ending is still unwritten.
What did we learn from this? A few things. Number one, even if we do have the chance to sit together, we'll both have a rangefinder in hand. I've been hunting for so many years on my own, that I have my own system of how I range deer, and it has worked well for me. It turns out that Troy also didn't do great as a cameraman and range-man. Cameraman needs to focus on the job of keeping the deer in the frame, and the hunter can handle the rest. We learn from it, and we move on.
So, here's my encouragement to you: Poor shots happen. It's normal to be sad and bummed out, but think about what you can learn from that, and then move on. There is no changing the situation or going back in time to do a better job, but you can make changes so hopefully you don't make the same mistake again. Get back out there in the bush, maybe there's just a bigger buck that's waiting for you!
