I have kept my eye upon this rub high atop a ridge in the Harrison/Crawford State Forest for several years now. It is in a hard to reach area, accessible from the only pull-off the property has by climbing through the dense undergrowth that a recent selective logging has created. I hunt this area only when times allows because of the time it would take to get a deer out if the hunt is successful.
Come October the ridge and its accompanying saddle will be riddled with scrapes and rubs. Just like it has been every year since I have discovered the place. Last year I was able to make it in one time. It was my first hunt of the year and due to the long hike up, the morning sun was well up into the sky by the time I fastened my climber into the tree. I always tie my bow to the pull up rope with a square knot, but as I felt the weight of the bow on the rope a sinking feeling churned in my stomach -- I thought maybe I first went right over left instead of left over right on my first bend. My doubt was confirmed when the bow reached about fifteen feet and tumbled back to the ground. About a minute later, as I unstrapped my stand to climb back down, I glanced to my right and watched a nice eight-pointer -- a deer I definitely would have been happy with -- move past me just within bow range. If I had put in the locking half-hitch I typically do I think I would have been fine, but I was too anxious to get settled in.
Several years ago my hunting partner Kevin killed an ornery looking thirteen-pointer down at the bottom of the ridge. Last year on opening day of shotgun season we chose this spot to hunt. But, when we reached the pull-off there were already five vehicles pulled in, so we opted for Plan B instead.
This year I will go in during squirrel season and do a little prep work on the ridgeline. There is a large rotting oak I can clear out around its base. There will be no noisy stand on my back to grab against the underbrush and no pullup rope -- just a light pack with enough food and water to sit all day if I have to.
