The
Matson Curse
by Adam Matson
11/03 Deerfield, WI
My name is Adam Matson and
I have been hunting since I was 13 in Wisconsin I was introduced
to this sport by my dad, the unluckiest hunter around. Our family
hasn't harvested a buck since 1990. I call it the curse of the
Matson's. The bucks just seem to play tricks on me. That is until
I arrowed this one.
To
start off my dad is an opening weekend hunter, rifle only. He
has never bow hunted so I had to teach myself this fine art
with only encouragement from my parents. This was my first year
bow hunting and I have learned that I enjoy it more than anything
else. If a gun season didn't exist I would be fine with it.
I am now primarily a bow hunter. I bought the bow myself and
found the camouflage at a garage sale. I spend months scouting
out the land I hunt in Deerfield. I hunt this land in trade
for the farm work I do for the owners, since my family lives
in town. They have a pretty large farm which requires a lot
of haying and tobacco, but I also love to work outdoors.
The
night before the hunt I went with my dad to Gander Mountain
and helped him pick out a brand new Deerfield Ruger. Beautiful
Gun. While we were there he asked if there was anything I needed
for hunting. I said some rattling sticks would be awesome..
he threw them into the cart for me, along with some hand warmers.
Anyways,
on that particular morning I woke up at four and was climbing
my tree by 4:30. I'm a poor college student so I really don't
have money for a tree stand so I climb a tree and sit in a crook
aching for hours during the wait for a buck. By six I saw two
little does walk under my stand, not having a clue that I was
spying on them for the last fifteen minutes. They could have
been meat, but something felt good about today. I knew I had
a chance for a buck. Around 8 I heard a tiny commotion behind
me and instantly tensed up. I didn't want to move in fear of
spooking whatever it was. I slowly grabbed my bow and turned
around.
Twenty
yards away a small spike and a doe had come to my rattling and
grunting. My body relaxed. These deer could live another day.
They then slowly walked under me and followed the creek for a
ways. About 45 minutes I hear a crunching behind me. I turned
around in time to see the does coming back my way on a dead sprint.
A minute later I saw the spike slowly run past, injured. I start
hearing hollowing and crunching. Two hunters were trying to trail
the buck, just being as loud as possible. I didn't think that
was a very good way to trail a spooked buck, but who am I to
say what works. When they saw me I told them which way he went
and decided that after all that ruckus my hunt was over for the
morning. I was severely disappointed.
I
walked out of the woods and started driving down the long driveway
when the old farmer's wife flagged me down, running after me.
(She ran pretty well for 75!) She said that she needed help programming
her new van and garage door opener. I said since my hunt was
done I would love to help her. I spent about an hour fixing
everything that she wanted done and was about to head home. She
asked if I was going back to the woods, I sadly said no, too
much commotion already. She told me to go onto the hill. She
just has a feeling.
"Why
waste my day watching TV when I can be out in the woods?"
I thought to myself. I took her advice and headed up to the
giant hill. I started up the cattle trail to get to my giant
oak I picked out (this tree I stand on a branch). I started
to walk through some thorns and torn my skin raw. Oh well, I've
had worse. Then I grabbed a hold of the barb wire fence. Smart
move.
Once
I got settled I pulled out my brand new rattling bag and just
started tickling. I added a few grunts and weezes to it. Once
again my adrenaline started to rush. I smelt something funny
in the air, something musty. All of the sudden I saw a brown
body jump out of the thickets, just standing tall and proud
looking all around for a fight. I was in complete awe. I didn't
even think of grabbing my bow even though he was broadside at
30 yards. I just saw a buck, an anxious buck, pawing the ground,
sniffing the air, running on adrenaline. He turned back to the
thicket and then I got my nerves back. I grunted twice and OFF
HE SPRINTED to the left.. He just high tailed it outta there.
I lost all emotion. I just scared him away.
I stood
still for a couple seconds thinking what I did wrong. I slowly
looked left and I saw the buck come charging in, sniffing the
ground and shaking his head in a terrible fury. He wanted to
FIGHT! He just couldn't find the other buck. I slowly pulled
back my new PSE Nova and aligned the sight on his side. He made
his way 5 yards under my tree and let out a grunt. I pulled
the trigger on my release and let it fly. The buck stood there
for a second and tore off back through the thicket he originally
came through. NOOOOO..I saw my arrow sticking in the ground,
the red and white fletching staring back at me, mocking me..
I missed.
I
looked up and saw the buck come out running from behind a growth
of trees and shrubs 50 yards away. One more step and he did
a nose dive right into the dirt. His paw was between his horns.
He was down. I was so excited I hoped straight down from my
tree and looked at the arrow. It was soaked with blood. It had
sailed right through the lungs. I was in such joy that I jumped
out of my tree and tore off down the trail and grabbed the old
farmer in his tractor. "I just shot a big one! I just shot
a big one! Now what??? He just laughed at me and told me to
calm down; the deer's not going anywhere. He came up and helped
me get the deer out of the woods with the four wheeler and then
I called my dad to come with the truck.
So
many things lead to the harvest of that buck. The rattling horns
my dad bought for me the night before, the other hunters wounding
a buck, and helping a nice old lady. By helping someone else
I have learned that you help yourself.
My
dad has never been a man of many words but when he shook my
hand after that deer I knew how badly he had wanted me to get
a deer throughout all these past years and getting it like this
was everything to him and me. The curse of the Matson's has
been broken!
Note:
I was so excited about that deer, when I got home I realized
that I had left my quiver, release, rattling bad, and binoculars
all in the tree and had to run back to get them. J
Also,
this buck got my girlfriend interested in hunting and I bought
her a bow for her birthday. She will be hunting with me this
season!
Adam
Matson
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