I came to Rock N Roll Redneck Ranch the day before rifle season opened because Mark was kind enough to let me bow hunt first. What I got was a lesson in adaptation and honest hunting that I carry with me every season.

It was November 4th, 2022, and my buddy and I were heading out to rattle in some deer and maybe take a shot with the bow before the rifle opener. We were grateful just to be on good ground. We’d been worried about getting to hunt at all that year, and Mark gave us permission to be there. That was enough.

The Opener Doesn’t Cooperate

November 5th came in cold—37 degrees—and crisp. Opening day in Texas. We sat the blind expecting to see does, maybe a small buck. Nothing came. Not a single sighting all morning. We heard a couple distant gunshots, but nothing on the property. The hogs that were supposed to be everywhere? Nowhere to be found.

Here’s the thing about opening day: it’s not always what you dream about the night before. Sometimes it’s slow. Sometimes it’s cold and quiet and the animals are somewhere else, doing whatever they want while you’re sitting in a blind wondering if you made the right call.

I know you wanted to eat, I wanted to eat too—I sent one through the PMP house later baby.

We had two sits to work with and we needed meat for the freezer. Simple as that. So we made the call: we grabbed the AR-15 and started still-hunting the back side of Mark’s property. No dramatics, no trophy hunting. Just two bowhunters who became rifle hunters because the situation demanded it.

Walking the back, we heard gunshots—closer this time. Maybe Mark connected. Maybe John and his son got something. We headed back toward the blind to see what the morning had turned into. We didn’t know if there was meat on the ground or just more hunting ahead.

Real Hunts Teach Real Lessons

Mark was generous with his ground, and I was grateful. I’ve been hunting long enough to know that the hardest days often teach more than the easy ones. This was an honest hunt from start to finish. No gimmicks, no script. Just a November morning and two guys trying to put meat in the freezer before dark.

The rifle season opening taught me something important: hunting isn’t always about perfect conditions and trophy moments. Sometimes it’s about showing up, adapting when the plan changes, and doing what needs to be done. When your season opens slow like this, having the right attractants in your pack and the patience to work through tough mornings matter more than luck. Come back tomorrow. Keep grinding.

Some of the best bowhunting happens when you abandon the blind and sit on the ground where the grass is tall and the bucks have no idea you’re there.

South Texas Ground Hunting

We rolled out to the lease in Dilley before sunrise, wind perfect for the back side of the property. The targets were clear: a 14-pointer and a couple of 12-pointers. We decided to skip the blind entirely and hunt from the ground.

The grass was thick enough that I could sit nearly invisible. All I needed was room to draw back and stand for the shot — and South Texas gave us that. Sometimes simple is better. No blind to bug-proof, no installation, just you and the natural cover.

Coffee and Patience

While we waited, I made cowboy coffee over the fire — Café du Monde chicory, strong the way I like it. There’s something about being out there before the world wakes up, fire crackling, waiting for deer to move. That’s hunting.

“The grass is pretty high, so we’ll be able to sit almost invisible and get drawn back and stand up and take a shot.”

This hunt represents the core of what I chase — no-nonsense bowhunting where the strategy is sound, the execution is clean, and the deadhead is what you take home. Ground hunting teaches respect for the animal and demands that your fundamentals are sharp. There’s nowhere to hide if your form is off.

If you’re interested in how different setups shape a hunt, check out my land setup for multi-species hunting or my axis bowhunt at Baker3. Each approach teaches something different, but the foundation is always the same: good wind, good shot, good outcome.

On American Country Outdoors, we keep it real — the wins and the lessons, all tied to the commitment it takes to hunt hard and hunt well.

Once you’ve made your shot, the hunt isn’t over—it’s shifted into a different gear. That’s what you see here: the recovery.

Tracking a whitetail after a good hit requires patience and attention. Every drop of blood, every disturbed leaf tells a story. You move slow, you listen, and you let the sign guide you. This is where bow hunting demands respect for the animal—you’re not sprinting through the woods looking for a quick find. You’re moving with purpose and care.

This 2018 buck was a reward for the hours spent in the stand, the early mornings, the wind checks, and the discipline to wait for the right moment. The recovery is the final part of that respect. It’s you honoring the work the animal made you do to earn him.

Meat on the table, a story to tell, and lessons learned about what it takes to be a bowhunter in Texas. That’s what these recoveries mean.

Check out my first archery kill and axis hunts for more on the pursuit.

I got him. The moment the arrow flew true and hit home, everything else just stopped mattering. This is the story of my first archery whitetail buck — the shot, the wait, and the recovery that made me a real bowhunter.

The Shot

There’s that split second of pure adrenaline — your heart’s pounding, you’re shaking, and the reality of what just happened hits you all at once. But then the work starts. You can’t just celebrate; you’ve got to get down, track that deer, and do right by the animal you’ve taken.

Tracking the Blood Trail

That recovery hike hits different. You’re looking for blood sign, reading the ground, moving careful because you know every step matters. This is where everything you’ve learned about reading deer movement, understanding where an animal’s likely to go, and staying calm comes into play.

When you find him, there’s gratitude mixed with the adrenaline. You thank him for the meat, for the opportunity, for the hunt that got you there. That’s what separates hunting from just shooting.

Becoming a Real Bowhunter

This is the moment I realized I’d become a real bowhunter. Not because I’d made a good shot — plenty of hunters make good shots. But because I understood what came after, and I was ready for it.

For the follow-up story years later, read about my 2018 Texas archery buck recovery — same feeling, more experience, same respect for the animal.

Connect With Me

If this story resonated, here’s how to follow the rest of my bowhunting journey:

• Subscribe to American Country Outdoors on YouTube — every hunt, start to finish.
• Follow @kirtbox on Instagram and DM me — I answer.
• Read my 2018 archery buck recovery for the next chapter.
• Brands — if you make gear worth hunting with, reach out on Instagram. I hunt first, write second.