Without shooting rails on the stand, I finally had to forfeit holding the bow and lowered it to rest on my knee. As my bad luck continued, I realized I would need to hold the crossbow up in a shooting position for an extended period as the tom made his way slowly through the field, slightly out of shooting range. After settling in the stand, I encountered a mature long beard sneaking behind my setup as I cautiously moved into position to make a shot. Because the crossbow was a reverse-limb style bow, there was no option of cocking, unless I made the trip back home for the reel attachment.Īfter what seemed like hours of driving, I returned to my home, retrieved the reel, and was back in my stand, ready to hunt. After attaching my safety harness to the tree, I pulled my Horton Storm RDX crossbow up with a rope, only to realize that I had left the reel handle that aided in cocking the bow in my garage, seven or eight miles away from the area I was hunting. Earlier that morning, well before sunrise, I quietly made my way along the edge of the massive CRP field that would connect to the timber edge of the adjacent field where my stand stood tall in an oak tree. The day had already proved to be one in which things had not played in my favor. My mind quickly began racing with ideas of how to get my crossbow in position and make the shot without the gobbler catching sight of my movements. As a mature eastern gobbler made its way down the steep hill and out into the lush green grass, I stood in my treestand, trying to remain hidden as I tucked in behind the white oak tree.
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