Deer hunting has been a sport that has always been a part of my life. From the time I can remember, it was always exciting to walk in the woods while looking for deer sign. When you find droppings or tracks, the adrenaline level quickly elevates just from these simple signs. When we actually saw the deer, then my adrenaline would skyrocket to the stars. 

As I got older, my passion for hunting grew more intense. I would often pester my dad or uncle to take me out hunting with them. I knew at an early age how peaceful, relaxing, and yet so intense it could become. It was very easy for me to sit on stand all day for multiple days in a row. When I turned 16, I was able to take a Hunter’s Safety class and get my license to finally be able to hunt on my own. Of course at that age, hunting meant going out with either my dad or uncle and sitting in a spot near them, or sitting with them using their weapon because I did not have one of my own. For my 17th birthday, my dad bought my very first bow, a Martin Prowler. I absolutely loved it because it was mine and I wouldn’t have to use borrowed weapons any more.

The following fall, I was in my senior year in high school. While in high school, I also participated in interscholastic sports; football, basketball, and baseball. Balancing time in the fall between football and deer hunting was a little challenging, but this did not have a negative impact on my passion for hunting. I became more committed and dedicated as my passion continued to grow. As bow season commenced that year, I began learning the lessons that hunters so often do when they are on their own and began developing a better understanding of what it takes to become a successful hunter. As bow season came to a close, I did not get any opportunities to harvest a deer that season.

The first day of rifle season was on a Wednesday and I was permitted by my parents to take the week off to go rifle hunting. That opening day was one of the most intense that I have experienced. It was non stop action from the moment the sun came up until late afternoon. We were hunting in a cattail swamp back in the woods. It was a swamp my uncle set us on because he was very familiar with the farm we were hunting that morning. I remember him explaining that as the deer get shot at, they will come running to the swamp for cover. After seeing deer darting in, out, and all around during the morning, my uncle decided to move us to a different part of the swamp at lunch time.

When we got to our new spot, my uncle walked off to get settled in his spot. As he walked away, I decided to get a sandwich out of my lunch and try to grab something to eat while the action was slowed. While sitting on a stump eating my sandwich, I suddenly heard a crash of branches breaking and water splashing behind me over my left shoulder. I immediately picked my rifle up off my lap, dropping my sandwich in the muddy swamp water, and preparing to shoot. I sat with my rifle up and cocked for what seemed to be an eternity. After a few minutes of not hearing any more sounds, I put my rifle down and stood to see what had made that noise… rookie mistake. As soon as I stood, about 50 yards away, I saw a deer take off sneaking through the swamp in the brush. I quickly got my rifle back up, but it had already snuck by me. A few seconds later, I heard my uncle shoot as the deer popped out of the brush right in front of him. After he shot, I took off through the swamp toward my uncle to see if he had hit it. He had harvested a fat, beautiful 6 point that couldn’t have been more perfect. I helped my uncle drag his kill out of the woods that day. After this experience, the eternal hunting flame was lit as my passion and intensity grew.

As the years went on, I continued to learn many valuable lessons like those I learned that magical morning in the swamp. Opportunities began to present themselves for harvesting my first deer during the various seasons, but oftentimes I would fall victim to “Buck Fever.” I felt that I had developed a better understanding of wildlife and how to put myself in position to harvest an animal, but needed to learn how to contain my composure in order to become successful.

When I turned 21 years old, I was in the midst of transition. I had stopped going to college and entered the workforce fulltime in the manufacturing industry. I knew that I had to find a career pathway, but it wasn’t in the manufacturing field. That fall, I entered the hunting season with great anticipation. I scouted several locations and identified an area that I felt gave me the best chance to harvest my very first deer ever. Opening day fell in the middle of the week. Working the first shift meant that I couldn’t go out for the morning hunt. I spent the night before getting things ready for my first hunt of the season as soon as I got home from work. The plan was to hunt a huge open green field on a bait pile.

I decided to carry the bait out with me and dump it in front of my stand before I headed up. The bait I chose to use were apples, so I loaded a garbage bag full of apples to bring out with me. As I walked out to my stand that afternoon, I had to cross a small, old footbridge that had been placed across a small creek for many years. While crossing it, I heard a loud crack and suddenly the bridge collapsed caused me to fall through some of the boards while dropping my bag of apples and bow in the creek below. Immediately, I knew something was wrong. An extreme feeling of nausea overcame me and I had a sharp pain radiating in my left knee down to my ankle. I pulled myself back up through the bridge and walked over to the bank.

As the nausea and pain began to go away, I went down into the creek to retrieve my bow. Since it was opening day, I was not going to let anything ruin my hunt, so I continued to my stand and managed to crawl up in it. The night wore on and the pain in my leg became more intense as it began to swell and lock into place. That night, the only thing I saw was a grey fox running directly below my stand. I considered it a success because I did see some wildlife. When the night drew to a close, I had to crawl down from my stand and walk about 500 yards to my truck. The more I moved, the more painful my leg became.

Once I got in my truck, I took a moment to try and figure out how I was going to drive. At that time, I owned a Ford Ranger 4 x 4 that had a manual shift, so I knew it would be very difficult to push the clutch in with my hurt leg. When I got home, my focus was just to get inside and lie in bed. As I walked through the door, it was quickly apparent to my parents that I had done something. I explained what happened. The next day, I had to call into work because the pain was so intense that I did not sleep. It was apparent I had to see a doctor as soon as possible. That day, I was diagnosed with a torn ACL and had to have surgery. This was a life changing incident. A couple of weeks later, the surgery was completed and I was on my way to recovery. The injury led me to a completely new career path that I am still engaged in to this day.

As October grew to a close and the rut began to really pick up in the beginning weeks of November, I was given the clear by my doctor to continue my hunting season. My grandparents had an 80 acre farm in Northern Michigan that I had never hunted. They offered me an opportunity to hunt on their farm because it would be easier to access with my injury. Being out of work since my injury and knowing that stands were already set up in places throughout their property, I decided to accept the offer.

When I got to the farm, I met with a neighbor friend who had been hunting there and he offered his stand to hunt the following day. His stand was located on the edge of a CRP field just inside the woodline. The following morning was very cool, crisp, and calm. It was the perfect type of weather that you would want to hunt during the rut. It took me a little while to walk out to the stand on an injured leg, but I managed. By the time I got settled, the sun began to show through the tree line. As morning continued, it was evident deer were moving. I was back in my glory watching deer and other wildlife moving around in the fields and on the edge of the woods. I had forgotten about my injury as frost began settling on me.

It became very cold while the sun continued to come up on the horizon. To the point where I started shivering a bit. At about 8:30 am, I adjusted myself in an attempt to find a little sunlight in order to warm up. In doing so, I happened to look down and there was a young 4 point buck standing directly under my tree. Immediately, I stopped moving in fear that he would see me and run off. I knew this may be my chance to get a shot at a deer. My adrenaline once again elevated like it had so many times before when seeing deer.

After a few seconds, the buck began walking directly away from me, toward a bait pile 20 yards out in front of the stand. I began to breathe harder and harder as the adrenaline took over my body. In an attempt to control my breathing, I tucked my mouth into the front of my jacket. At this point, the buck was at the bait pile and eating comfortably while facing directly away from me. I grabbed my bow and prepared myself to shoot, but had no shot with the angle he was standing. The longer the deer ate, the heavier my breathing became. I started to hyperventilate while making weird breathing noises. I knew that I had to stop because at some point, this buck would hear me.

As he continued to eat, he eventually turned his head and exposed his neck. I knew that was not the ideal shot or the shot I was looking for, but my main goal at this point was to start breathing normal again before I passed out and fell out of the tree. At this point, I drew my bow back. When I got to full draw and set in my anchor point, I settled my sights on the base of his neck. Suddenly, the young buck turned slightly offering me a hard quartering away shot at his vitals. I adjusted my target point to just behind the back rib and released the arrow. When the arrow was released, everything went black for a split second. I heard a loud thud sound that I had never heard before when shooting at a deer. When my vision returned, the buck was running off into the woods with my arrow sticking out exactly where I aimed, behind the last rib.

Excitement overcame my body as I knew with the angle my arrow should have hit vitals. I immediately got down out of the stand and hobbled to the house where the neighbor had stopped by to check on me. He was pulling up as I got to the house. In an excited tone, I explained what had happened just minutes ago and wanted to start tracking the deer immediately. He explained that we should wait sometime before we get on the blood trail. After waiting for the longest hour of my entire life and talking everyone’s ear off, as one said, “I’ve never heard you talk this much before in your life,” we started to track it. After weaving through the woods for about a hundred yards, we found my trophy lying face down in a creek. A nemesis from nature that I was introduced to on the very first day of the season in a different set of woods revisited to produce my very first trophy deer.

As bow hunters, there are many obstacles that we must overcome daily when in stand. This was a fact that absolutely rang true many years ago when on the second hunt of that year with a battered body, I harvested my very first animal ever. The buck was young and not very big, but he was a trophy, he was mine, and he still hangs on my wall to this day.

-Todd Sellon, Fall Obsession Pro Staff