My youngest brother tagged his first buck this year. It was shot in Oregon and I received a text from him saying buck down. Of course, the anticipation of waiting for the story and pictures became too much to handle. So...I wrote a story of what may have happened and what may have been going through my brother's head. Here it is with a picture of the buck below:
Alone I wait, restless as the finale creeps ever closer. Sweat drips into the crack of my bass as I drive down the road unabated. Stop, glass, go, stop, glass; the routine mundane. All hope is lost...but like a bear poopin' in the woods, he appears. The magnificent beast, muscular, mature, a rack for the record books arrives from the heavens. I raise my rifle as the heart pounds almost out of my chest. Anxiety, shakes and nervous gas expels out of me uncontrollably. As I pull the trigger, my bullet flies true, not to where I aimed but hit him nonetheless. In the blink of an eye I see the monster that haunted my dreams piled up in defeat. It is then that I feel the power of Thor's hammer flow through me. I can't help but proclaim, "I am all that is man," for no one to hear. The man, the legend, the kill....
He did a fine job of bringing the buck down with one well placed shot. He's not the biggest deer but he'll eat good! The story I wrote above was nothing more than me being impatient for the real story and having some fun writing.
