In 2002, I flew to Alaska with Steve Turay and Mike Magel, for a "once in a lifetime" caribou bowhunt. The three of us were dropped off and left in the Alaskan wilderness for 12 days without guides. You cannot hunt the day you fly, or the day your picked up. That left us with 10 days to hunt. Most days were extremely windy, with frequent rain. A few, were downright nasty. Our wood was so wet, we only built a fire twice durring our stay (something I know we all dearly love). We hunted all day every day, regardless of the weather. It was a tough hunt... the way it should be. The first few days, I tried to dry my socks by hanging them in the rafters of my tent, but they would be frozen stiff by morning. Eventually, I began wearing them to bed.... my body heat would dry them some, and I wouldnt have to pull on frozen socks in the morning. One morning at first light, I watched in horrer as Steve pulled on frost covered hip boots! Then left camp, not to be see again until dark.... that's the kind of guy you want to hunt with! The three of us fought for all we were worth, but animals were scarce. We all had chances, but "seeing" them and "getting" them with a bow, are two different things. Finally, at noon on the ninth day, I got an opportunity and managed to get an arrow in this young bull. Shot through both lungs, he was down in 30 seconds and dead in 60... a complete pass through from a 50 pound recurve! I was shocked. After fighting for 9 days to make it happen, I just stood there in disbelief! My dream of taking a bull home, was now inevitable. I was so happy! He wasn't the biggest bull I had seen, but he had double shovels, good bez tines, one back tine, and most importantly, he was going home with me. It was, by far, my biggest moment as a bowhunter. The kill came with just enough time left to pack him back to camp. One trip that night, and two trips the next day, across three diagnal sections, or a little more than 3 miles one way, with a heavy, heavy packs. Twice I was judo flipped and keelhauled by my pack, landing in the bottom between Hummocks like a turtle on it's back. I had to unbuckle and slip out of the pack just to get back on my feet. After getting all the meat, hide and antlers back to camp on our last night in the wilderness, I sat by one of the only fires we made the whole trip, until well into the evening. I was completely exhausted! I know this may sound strange to some, and unless a person has experienced it for themselves, I wouldn't expect them to understand, but only the births of my children could rival the pure joy I felt that night. If the world had stopped spinning, while I sat sipping whiskey by that fire...... it would have been fine with me. -Steve Paquet-

Additional Photo of Steve's Caribou Bowhunt - Steve and Bull

Additional Photo of Steve's Caribou Bowhunt - Last Pack Trip

Additional Photo of Steve's Caribou Bowhunt - Bull with Bow

In 1968, when I was 8 years old, my father took me with him on a rare evening outing. It seemed odd that dad and I were going out without the rest of the family….. you know…. Just us men! I knew I was in for some kind of treat. That night, I found myself sitting in silent amazement at Graveraet’s Kauffman Auditorium, watching and listening to “some guy” named Fred Bear. Fred stood in one place on the stage and delivered an unforgettable speech, while flipping through slide after slide of spectacular images from a lifetime of bowhunting adventures. To say I was in awe… simply would not do it justice. The fact is, I would never be the same. The experience that night set me off on my own quest, and every time I bent a stick and tied kite string on it, my thoughts would turn to Fred Bear, bringing down game with the bow and arrow. During these early years, I shot all of the available game animals. You know…. june bugs, crickets, grasshoppers and frogs. Eventually, I grew strong enough to draw my mothers 35 pound recurve, and I began to focus on bigger game…. like chipmunks! I spent many days, terrorizing fish populations in Marquette’s lower harbor, and in those days, a kid walking around with a bow and arrow was no cause for alarm with city officials, so I had that going for me. Through all of this, I knew I was building to something bigger. I had my sights on the ultimate target, and the biggest dream of all… the dream that one day, I too, would make a bow, and take a solid Whitetail buck with it…. Just like “the man himself,” Fred Bear. It was great stuff!

Skipping ahead now, some 30+ years to 2003….. I was fortunate enough to have the opportunity to bowhunt for Caribou in Alaska with Steve Turay, and Mike Magel. It was an unbelievable experience, to say the least. While there, I shared my lifelong passion; to harvest a good buck with a home made bow, with Steve Turay. I told him I had nearly a three decade history of working wood professionally as a wildlife carver, and cabinet maker. I asked if he would consider coaching me through the bowyer process after we returned to Michigan, and Steve, being the man he is, graciously agreed to do so. In my mind, it will always stand as one of the nicest things anyone has ever done for me. So this is how it came to be, that every Thursday night through the winter of 2003, I would drive to Steve’s shop in Ishpeming, to work on a dream that I had carried with me since childhood. On more than one occasion, I got up Thursday morning to work my job all day, before heading to Steve’s shop in the evening. I would then work all night on my bow, until forced to leave for work on Friday morning. Needless to say, by the time I got home from work on Friday evening, I was spent, but spent in a rewarding way…. My lifelong dream, was slowly taking shape.

In 2004, I hunted with my new bow for the first time. Just having it with me, felt right. Unfortunately, that first season did not produce the rack I desired. I did, however, manage to kill a mature doe. Although it was not the buck I had laid awake dreaming of…. I had made the bow, and taken a winters supply of meat with it, and that in itself was a huge victory that I enjoyed immensely!

Steve Paquet

PS I would really like to see all of our Deertrack members share their photos and stories here, as I have, so that the rest of us can enjoy them too.

When the 2005 season rolled around, I was very excited, as I always am, with renewed hope and expectations! On the second day, after slipping into a position which overlooked a creek drainage surrounded by soybeans, I made a makeshift pit blind among some tall grass on the edge of the farm field. Four hours into my sit, I saw two bucks moving towards the woods. I called to them, and hoped they would work my way. Nearly half an hour later, the first buck, a small 7 point, emerged at bow range and stared directly at me. For what seemed like forever, he tried to make me out to be something familiar, but my head net did its job and he eventually trotted on towards parts unknown. As I’ve seen so many times before, the better buck was allowing the younger deer lead the way. When the first buck continued up the path, it gave the second buck the confidence to take the few steps I needed him to. He began the same quick trot to keep up with the first buck, but I stopped him with a doe bleat…. and sent a wood arrow through him. My arrow hit the far shoulder, so as he ran full blast up the hill, I could see the fletched half of my arrow sticking out of his side. Ten seconds into his dash, he slowed to a wobbly abrupt stop…. Teetered there for a moment…. and just as I thought "he's going to go down," he did... right there where I could see him! That quick, my lifelong dream was realized, and only then did I become aware that my entire body was shaking uncontrollably!

Although I do a better job of controlling my emotions these days, hopefully, I will never loose that shear excitement this brings me…… I knew the first time I experienced it, I was on to something powerful! When I was 8 years old, my father took me to see Fred Bear….. From that day until this moment, I had dreamed of making a bow, and taking a good buck with it, and now here we were, together at last. This buck, and this hunt, will go down in my personal history book, as one of the most memorable in a lifetime of outdoor experiences. So often in the past, I had succumbed to one of any number of things that can go wrong and ruin your opportunity to take good deer with a bow and arrow, but on this occasion, I did everything exactly the way it was supposed to be done. It’s a feeling like no other…. enriching beyond words, and I’d like to use this opportunity to once again thank Steve Turay for helping me make that dream a reality. Although I suspect I will, if I never bow kill a bigger one, it will be OK….. I get a lot of satisfaction just from carrying my bow in the woods.

Steve Paquet

PS I would really like to see all of our Deertrack members share their photos and stories here, as I have, so that the rest of us can enjoy them too. 

Additional Photo of Steve's first buck with his own handmade bow.

Additional Photo of Steve's first buck with his own handmade bow.