It was probably “just another day” for some, but it was an extremely happy “Windsday” for me.
Late in the afternoon, Dad and I headed to our Georgia woods for an evening hunt. As we approached the hunting spot, I realized it was 3 years ago to the day when my twin brother, Ryan, killed his first buck. Needless to say, that thought often entered my mind because I longed to kill my own buck.
I climbed into my stand as Dad made his way to his. As the swirling winds from Hurricane Sandy blew the leaves around, I wondered if the deer would stay in hiding or move into the open fields for the evening.
About an hour before dark, I glanced to the right and spotted a deer stepping out of the woods. It started walking away from me, so I hollered. The deer turned broadside and stared as if in a trance. I quickly found my aiming spot and slowly pulled the trigger—the deer hit the ground like a bolt of lightning.
After a deep breath and sigh of relief, I called my dad to get the truck. As Dad made his way to me, I told him that the deer got up and ran off. After laughing at him for believing me, I told Dad that the deer actually fell in its tracks. We drove toward the deer as Dad repeatedly asked where it was. We were both so anxious to get to the deer that it seemed like it took hours just to get there.
Dad was shocked when we finally got to my deer. I guess you could say we were “double shocked.” First, I shot the deer from 120 yards, which was a long shot for me. Second, the deer turned out to be a 6-point buck, which was much bigger than I thought! Needless to say, I felt like a little boy in a candy shop—and I was suddenly on top of the world.
I’d become an “equal hunter” with my twin brother. As we loaded the deer and headed home, Dad looked at me and said, “Happy Windsday, Ross.”