Sunday morning started out great as my 11 yr old son, Tyler, and I slipped into our stand early. Right after we got set up, Tyler heard grunting on his side of the ditch. sure enough we listened to the buck grunting and walking right past us at 30 yds or less, but it was pitch black. After he passed, another buck was grunting and walking by on my side of the ditch. We heard his horns slapping off the brush as he came through grunting up a storm, but again it was too dark.
After daylight we heard nothing for awhile, then, at about 8:30 the sounds of a chase in progress caught our attention. I quickly gave a few doe bleats, and this 8 pt. came out into view. He went back into the brush, so I hit the call again. He lowered his head and came weaving through the brush, right into my shooting lanes. He was moving so fast, I had to stop him as I came to full draw. Tyler watched as my arrow blew right through both lungs, and he tore off and crashed 30 yds away.
I texted my buddy Chuck the good news. I climbed down and unhooked my bow. Tyler was halfway down the tree. I looked in the ditch, and 30 yds away, directly downwind stood the doe he was chasing. I looked up to Tyler and told him to watch her as I nocked an arrow. I came to full draw and she turned slightly, opening up her vitals, and I drilled her as well. She went 40 yds and piled up.
We recovered both deer and brought them back to my garage to hang them. We no sooner got them hung when I got the phone call. My buddy Chuck had fallen 35' from his stand and died. He may have had some issues with his heart as we found out later. One of my best mornings ever, turned out to be Chuck's worst.
R.I.P. Chuck and thank you for all the good times we've shared and all you've taught me and Tyler.