Most of you who know me personally are aware of the fact that I have been legally blind in my left eye since birth. Light and some larger shapes are discernible, but I am unable to tell you which direction the legs point on the monstrous "E" that tops the official medical eye chart. I have learned to live my life normally, in spite of the handicap, but accurately judging distance using one eye is impossible. However, the modern range finder has put me on an even keel with most bowhunters as long as I have the opportunity to range some of the key landmarks around my stand. 

Several weeks ago, I headed out to one of my treestands for the evening hunt. It was located on the outskirts of the city limits and usually the deer do not start to venture from their thick bedding areas until after the sun has set. It was a good two hours before that would happen so I quietly relaxed with my bow hanging on a tree-step just above my head. There was plenty of time until "prime time" so I casually studied my picturesque surroundings.  

Without warning, the loud sound of crunching leaves came to me over my left shoulder. Unfortunately, the hearing in my left ear is nearly as bad as the vision in my left eye so when I hear noise that loud, the animal is already within 20-yards or less. I slowly rotated my head to the left and discovered a large whitetail doe standing fifteen yards from the base of my tree.

As it gazed around, I slowly turned my head to guide my hand to my bow which was hanging within easy grasp. Once I had unhooked my crossbow, I began to turn back towards the big whitetail. I didn't dare move my bow to my left hand, so I held it in my right hoping that I would be able to switch when the doe turned. 

As I inched my head back towards the deer, I realized that she was on my blind side. I could make out the shape of her large brown body, but any details of her position were lost in a fuzzy blur. The animal stood motionless and I sensed that she was staring right at me.  I would not move a muscle before she did. 

The seconds began to slowly tick away as they tediously turned into minutes. My crossbow became heavier and heavier and burning discomfort began to radiate from my shoulder. The discomfort gradually turned to pain, then to agony and still the deer continued to hold its position. 

This animal was not going to best me! I was a bowhunter and a darn bullheaded one! I became more and more determined to get a shot at this troublesome whitetail! When each second seemed like a full minute and the pain had evolved to a level that has no words to describe, I realized that I would have to do something before I boogered the animal with an involuntary scream.  

Slowly I turned my head to a painful and abnormal position so that I could see the deer with my good eye. As the brown shape slowly appeared over the bridge of my nose, I discovered that I had been playing a waiting game with the dirt-covered roots of a fallen tree. The deer was nowhere to be seen. I was alone in the forest with nothing around me but joyfully receding pain and a very liberal dose of humility. 

Not only had the whitetail made a fool of me, but also it had exited the area without me realizing that it was gone. I was pleased, however, to discover the dirt covered tree roots were definitely of Pope and Young class in size.   

That, of course, was the only animal that I saw that evening. Moreover, because I had arrived at the stand early, I had an abundance of time to contemplate my folly. This fall marks my 49th season of hunting the whitetail deer. It truly amazes my how much the creatures still have to teach me. This wily creature continues to patiently instruct  me and sometimes I even learn from its training.   

Each time that I am made a fool of, however, it brings a wry smile to my face. The cunning of the whitetail deer is the one variable that makes the animal such a challenge to hunt. It’s this quality that brands it as the most sought after big game animal on the North American continent. I hope that each of you has a tremendous fall in pursuit of the whitetail deer. I also hope that this magnificent creature teaches you at least one good lesson during the season.

I hate it when a whitetail does this to me, but I'm afraid it happens often!