It was a long shot, but upgrading to a high-end 2016 bow and respectable effort and results in my shooting preparation since summer, I felt confident in the release of my arrow. The bull was totally broadside and looking right at me as I shot. I could hear the impact of a hard hit, but it was tough to see exactly where. It didn't have the tell tale sound of open ribs pass-through. And I couldn't see anything on the light tan canvas of the 6x6 bull's mid-section. But I certainly heard my arrow hit something solid. He lunged forward and immediately hooked uphill. He charged away through a group of massive wind-swept doug firs. He was a good hundred yards out before I really got a look at him. Per usual, I tore out my camera as I visually tracked him fleeing the area. Looking through and straining to hold the camera steady, my eyes finally confirmed what I'd been desperate to see- the green and white fletchings of my arrow were there, just behind his shoulder, deep into the dark brown patch in the bulls armpit.
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