For learning the mechanics of when to draw and picking shot angles, there’s no substitute for shooting numbers of deer. (Photo submitted by the author)
November 11, 2024
By Will Brantley
We hear a lot about conservative bowhunting tactics for big deer. Today’s expert advice is to stay completely undetected until the time, dictated by trail cameras, is right to strike on a buck. While you wait, you wouldn’t dream of shooting a doe and stomping through a bedding area to find her. Would you?
It’s true that getting a shot at a big deer is easier when he doesn’t know he’s being hunted. But when paranoia over spooking a “target buck” means going years without killing a deer at all, the strategy can be counterproductive. I’ve known hunters who are good at getting close to big deer, but not at killing them. Some calamity always seems to arise at the moment of truth. The shot angle isn’t right, or they get busted while drawing, or the buck jumps the string.
You know that guy, right? But you probably know the other guy, too. The bowhunter who isn’t afraid to blow up a food plot full of deer by shooting a doe on the edge of it an hour before dark, or to “spoil” a frosty November morning by double-lunging the first doe that trots into range. Perhaps the next world-record whitetail was five minutes behind her. He’ll never know.
It may be politically incorrect to call that latter hunter a killer, but it’s sure easier. Maybe the doe killer spooks some big bucks with all that doe shooting—but I’d lay odds he puts as many inches of antler on the ground over the long haul as the conservative hunter does. And he has a hell of a lot more fun and gets to eat way more fried backstrap along the way.
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Start the Season Right The spoils of an early season hunt. (Photo submitted by the author) When you’re hunting a big buck, there are obviously times when you should pass on does. Personally, I like to limit my doe shooting to pinch points and staging areas, where I’m hunting traffic going to or from a food source or bedding area. I don’t (usually) shoot does during the pre-rut, since they’re the best bait you can have around come November.
But antlerless deer get no quarter from me in the early season, and here’s why. Being an effective deer hunter takes conditioning. I’m always a little rusty during my first sits of a new season. I might put my bow hanger too low in the tree, or forget to tether the sections of my climbing stand together. But the bigger problem is the summer’s worth of jitters that’ve been saved up for the first legal whitetail of the year. That dump of adrenaline when I decide to shoot a deer is severe enough to cause me to make mistakes—I’m not too proud to admit that. But it’s not as severe on a doe as it is on a big buck, and by the time I’ve arrowed a couple does, I’m back into peak form.
In addition to that mental game, actually shooting deer, instead of just watching them, allows a bowhunter to hone mechanics that can’t be perfected on the target range, including…
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Knowing When to Draw, Hold and Lower The crux of bowhunting is drawing when the animal is at close range. Whitetails are sharp-eyed and wary, and shooting does will teach you when you can get away with moving and when you’d better sit still. Yet, the best time to draw might not be the same for you as it is for me, and that’s why you can’t just rely on the advice from others to learn the skill. Some hunters prefer to draw when the animal is obscured and then hold until the shot presents itself.
The author shows off a ham from an early season doe, fattened on clover and acorns. (Photo submitted by the author) I hate getting stuck at full draw, though. For me, fatigue sets in with my bow arm before my release arm. If a shot I’m expecting doesn’t pan out, I almost always lower the string and start fresh. When hunting over food sources, where deer are calm but moving, I frequently draw and lower my bow multiple times while waiting for the perfect angle.
Of course, lowering the bow requires just as much movement as drawing it. You won’t get good at timing those motions around live animals without practice. Those “killers” I referenced earlier have learned to be decisive in their movements during the moment of truth.
Aiming at Angles We all hope for a 20-yard broadside shot, but live critters have a way of disappointing us. Several years ago, while hunting as a guest for an outdoor television show, I waited for just the right angle on a nice Texas 10-pointer. My videographer and I were seated in a ground blind 20 yards away, and I drew when the buck gave me a gently quartering-away angle. But he took another step away just as I rested my finger on my release-aid trigger, and the quartering angle went from gentle to severe. I made a quick adjustment to put my pin at the front of the buck’s hip and let fly. On camera, the shot looked too far back, but I knew the angle was good. The arrow zipped through the base of the buck’s neck and stuck in a mesquite tree. He was dead in 50 yards. Had I held just behind the shoulder crease, I’d have superficially wounded that buck.
I’d guess that misjudgment of shot angles is to blame for most wounded-and-lost deer hit by bowhunters because we’re taught over and again to aim “behind the shoulder.” That’s a good spot on a broadside deer, but a four-legged animal has to be standing a pretty particular way to actually be perfectly broadside. Most shots are more angled than you think, and experience shooting numbers of deer will teach you to consider the angle before the aiming point.
Ask yourself, where do you want the broadhead to exit? Then pick a spot accordingly. Seeing various hits from various shot angles verified by blood trails will teach you which shots are safe for you to take, and which ones you should pass.
When To Say “Meh” (Photo submitted by the author) A soft bleat works wonders for stopping a moving whitetail, but many hunters are loath to do it out of fear they’ll spook the deer or give themselves away. I bleat to stop at least half of the deer that I shoot with a bow, and it usually provides a great shot opportunity. I make a high-pitched, nasally fawn sound, when I’m drawn, anchored, looking through my peep sight and need the deer to stop.
I don’t like to bleat at deer that are beyond 30 yards, though. I want the rare shots I take at those distances to be at oblivious animals. There’s no reason to give yourself away to a deer that’s feeding casually along, either. Let it happen naturally. And bleating at a deer that’s already alert will usually finish the job of spooking it thoroughly.
All of these assessments—drawing, lowering, angles, bleating—must be made in seconds, when adrenaline is raging, and you’re trying to focus on shot mechanics, too. When you haven’t practiced them on a live deer in three years, and the buck of a lifetime is standing at 18 yards, odds are good some calamity will arise.