Coming Up Aces with Axis

Success in Sonora

by Craig Ellwanger, AAE

There are hundreds and hundreds of hunting stories where everything just seems to come together perfectly (just watch the last 10 minutes of most hunting shows).  The perfect stand, the perfect wind, the perfect time of year, and then the perfect deer walks out…BOOM.  Story’s over.   Yet, for most of us, events seldom transpire this way.  Hours, days, and even seasons worth of seemingly “perfect” set-ups may go by without the epic crescendo of a successful harvest.  Our hunt in Sonora, Texas on the Diamond TF Ranch this past weekend was one of the best few days of my short bowhunting career, but it definitely did not start out nor appear as though it was headed that way.  Here’s the unlikely story of how a friendly game of poker taught me to be a better bowhunter.

This story really beings on the night before our hunt.  A friend from worked invited myself and a handful of guys to play some low-stakes poker.  Though we play for fun and with very little at stake, you would be surprised at what losing money can do to some grown men.  My ride to the poker game was my good friend Josh Foley, who over the course of the night had one of the luckiest streaks that I had ever witnessed at a card table.  It seemed no matter the hand or situation Josh came out victorious.  With a combination of random hands he mowed us down one by one all night, winning 3 of the 4 mini-touneys (and placing 2nd in the other).  It got to the point that I had a feeling that had I even been dealt pocket aces (the best staring hand in poker), Josh would rake the pot with a 7-2 off (the worst).  I watched, sometimes first-hand, as his “pitiful” hands dominated much more favorable starting hands time after time.   Little did I know then, that thoughts of Josh’s “lucky streak” would stay with me long into my weekend deer hunt.

November 6th found me skipping town before well before the lunch hour rush. It would be a race against time to make the Friday evening hunt.  The long drive from East to West Texas was spent constantly checking the arrival time on the GPS to see if I was still on pace to arrive in time to scurry into the stand and sit during waning light.  I had already mentally mapped out my strategy for the night.  “Alright, I’m slated to arrive at 4:07, I can be in the stand my 4:15…”.  Hunting time would be at a premium, so I even found ways to shave minutes off by changing clothes in the truck and refusing to stop needlessly.  With only one pit stop and a little help from the increased speed limit on I-10, I patted myself on the back for pulling in to the ranch only 15 minutes behind schedule.  “I made it!”  That’s when my plan began to unravel.

As I pulled in to the Diamond TF Ranch, I spotted a roaring tractor in the field just south of my evening stand’s location.  Mr. Fields was cutting hay some 150 yards from where I planned to sit!  Not ideal, but I was here, so “let’s see what happens”, I thought to myself as I parked the truck. I still remained optimistic. Then, just as I flung open the truck door to head to the field, I felt a harsh wind hit me square in the back.  “Oh no, the wind is completely wrong!”  In the first 5 minutes of my hunt I was facing two major issues that were definitely not part of my precisely outlined plan.

As I hurried to the stand, I stopped to pour a small pile of deer corn 20 yards from my tripod stand.  Getting settled in, I ranged shooting lanes and checked the wind again.  It was still blowing straight from me to the food plot that many of the deer utilize.  I could see and hear the tractor as it continued cutting hay in the distance.  Moments later, the first deer appeared.  It was a whitetail doe with two fawns in tow.  The doe came straight to the pile of corn on my upwind side while her fawns wandered off to feed.  This was a very good sign.

For the next hour, I watched in amazement as deer after deer filed through the gate and past my stand, some stopping to nibble on a few nuggets of sweet corn.  The deer seemed oblivious to the running tractor just across the fence.  After seeing close to 30 deer from my stand (half of those in bow range), I sat satisfied as light began to fade that deer activity was seemingly unaffected by my pre-hunt issues.  Then, just as I was beginning to pack up I saw tall, white horns walking straight through the gate.  It was a group of axis and the buck was a definite shooter!

Turning completely around, with eyes wide and chest thumping, I readied myself for a possible shot.  As long as the group took either of the 2 trails that led past my stand a chip shot was inevitable.  Seconds later, my heart sank as the first axis doe emerged on the trail that led toward a small pond nearby, away from me and out of bow range.  The rest of the axis, including the big buck, followed.  The night came to a close with the sight and sounds of the buck vigorously raking  the low-hanging limbs of a large oak tree 100 yards away.  “Sooo close”, I told myself in bitter frustration.  Of the three trails, they had chosen the one that would not allow a shot.  The odds of getting a shot had been in my favor, for sure, but never materialized.  That, my friends, is hunting.

The morning of day two had me excited to get into a pop-up blind that Tanner Fields and I had set-up on our previous trip.  Trail cam pictures since our last visit had revealed several good whitetail bucks, long beard turkeys, and a few axis.  The blind is nestled in the perfect cocoon of cover with ample shooting lanes and located in an area with tons of deer activity.  It would be the first time anyone had hunted this stand and my anticipation level was sky high.

As I clumsily navigated my way through unfamiliar terrain under moon light, I spooked several deer that loudly, made themselves known.  Bumping deer in the dark happens often, but it never ceases to startle and frustrate almost simultaneously.  When I approached the large cedar that I swore hid the blind, I could not see the dark mass or arching silhouette  of a pop-up.  Mentally retracing my path and peering feverishly, I finally found it…folded in half and laying on the ground!  If you’ve ever tried to setup a pop-up blind in thick cover silently, forget about it.  I felt like I was scratching nails on a chalkboard in an empty auditorium.  Animals seemed to be sensing my presence the entire morning and alerting the rest of the county to my hiding spot.  I even had a couple donkeys wander close to my blind and start their “hee-haw” song.  I gave up on the morning sit having only seen a single 5 point whitetail and a lone doe.

I met Tanner back at the ranch house to formulate a new plan for the rest of the morning.  We decided to try a deer drive on another part of the ranch.  This strategy had worked several times in years past in efforts to get up close and personal with evading whitetails and axis.  As I walked to get into position I thought back to the last few attempts at this same strategy that had resulted in absolutely no deer.  Had we gone to the well one too many times?  Had the deer gotten smart to our plan and relocated their hangout?

Getting settled in, it was only a few moments before I would see the first deer head bobbing through the brush toward me.  It was a group of whitetail does, the biggest of which ran directly at me, coming to a screeching halt upon seeing a strange figure kneeling between the two trees she seemed to be heading straight for.  Moments later I saw the first axis emerge.  It was a young buck in velvet that was leading 7 other axis of various sizes and sexes.  I feverishly tried to scan the group for a shooter as they ran right at me.  I quickly realized that the group held no large bucks just in time to watch them file by me at a mere 5 yards.  What a rush!  As I turned and watched the group jump a cross fence and head up the hill, I was certain this was it for the push.  I would see my partner heading toward me any second signaling the end of the effort.  Just then, I caught movement off to my right.  It was a straggler.  A big axis buck had held back and taken a different route than the rest of his party.  I watched as he trotted down the fenceline, stopping every few yards to look back toward the intruder to his hideout.  I knew I had a shooting lane above me at 27 yards, along the path the buck was heading.   As he neared the opening, he stopped again, his vitals protected by a tree trunk.  “Two more steps”, I begged.  Then, he took off again.  With my Mathews bow already drawn, I let out a quick bleet and got him to pause momentarily to check the source of the odd sound.  Finding his chest in my peep, I touched off the arrow.  Simultaneously, the buck took off and I watched in horror as my arrow hit behind the intended target.  A bright red starburst was evident as the buck angled back down the hill past me and over another cross fence some 50 yards away.  As he disappeared out of sight, I heard him crashing through the dense brush in the large creek bed below.

Tanner appeared from the tree line as I silently motioned that I had released an arrow.  He had seen the buck as well and had even tried to get a shot with his rifle, but his attempt was thwarted by the thick brush.  I told him that I didn’t feel great about the shot, but we were encouraged upon finding really good blood near the spot the buck was standing.  The decision was made to give the buck plenty of time to expire as we snuck back to the truck.  My thought ping-ponged as we went about filling feeders and staying occupied with other ranch work to pass some time.  I must have replayed the events and the shot in my head 50 times over the next two and a half hours.

Finally, we returned to the spot and began to follow the blood trail.  Twenty yards from our starting point, I found my arrow, covered in thick red blood.  The blood trail was like nothing I’d seen before.  “I must have hit a major artery”, I thought.  Hopping the fence where I had last seen the buck and zig-zagging through some thick stuff, my prayers were answered and relief set in as the buck lay just across the dry creek bed.  He hadn’t gone 100 yards and was probably dead before I motioned to  Tanner that I had shot him.  What an absolute thrilling feeling!

After dressing the deer, he got the tour of the ranch, showing him off to the Fields’ family and taking countless pictures.  The buck scored 126 & 6/8, qualifying him for the SCI record books for archery or gun.

As I made the drive home Sunday night, with my deer safely in the hands of Old Friends Taxidermy in San Angelo, I couldn’t help but think back a few days earlier to that night at the poker table.   A friend’s lucky streak had taught me a few valuable lessons and might just help you on your next hunting trip:  1.) you will never kill anything if you “fold your cards” – no matter how bad things appear to look in the beginning, 2.) when nothing is working, you may have to change your strategy to find success, 3.) it’s not about the hand you’re dealt, it’s how you play that hand that counts  and 4.) even a 7-2 beats aces when the cards fall your way!

Thanks again to the Fields family and Diamond TF Ranch for an amazing trophy and an awesome hunt to remember.

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