The early September range stopped just as the cluster of cow elk stepped into an opening and began to feed.

My rangefinder read exactly 80 yards, a long shot, but I had a snazzy new bow in my hand.

A top of the line hoite that I just won a regional 3D match with,

including the longshot Side Match at, you guessed it, 80 yards, I'd hit the edge of the 1 inch

black center dot. You might say I was confident. I drew to anchor, breathed, locked in, and

squeezed my release. The arrow arched beautifully, perfectly on track for a top of the heart

hit, until the feeding cow took a single step forward. My arrow took the elk 8 inches behind the crease.

Dismayed yet hopeful, I watched it make a short spasmodic dash and drop into a brushy hollow. Just maybe the broad-headed sliced liver and the cow

would quickly expire there. Thunder cracked close, close, too close.

And the rain set back in, a persistent drizzle.

Against my better judgment, but afraid the rain would wash away the blood,

I took up the trail, rather than giving the cow time

to expire.

Now thanks for tuning in today folks.

I'm Joseph on Benedict, and this is the backcountry hunting podcast.

As the title suggests, we're going to talk about the hunting experiences that, well, no one likes to talk about. screw-ups the result in a lost game animal

Now talking about these experiences not only opens old scars in our minds and our souls that lays us open to critique and

judgment by our fellow hunters.

So why are we going to do it?

Well, because within these heart-wrenching experiences, there's always a

lesson to be learned and sometimes several. As every serious lifelong hunter knows, hunt long enough, and you'll end up making a mistake and failing

to kill cleanly. And even if you do all that is humanely possible to rectify it. Sometimes you never do find the game animal.

...