First Deer stories..

[Big Bucks Tim]

This has been a topic that I have wanted to see.  And since I'm starting it I might as well tell mine.

It was the morning of October 28th, 1995.  It was the second to last day of the regular season in my second season of hunting and I didn't feel very well and I had a football game in the afternoon, but, dad, as he always did, convinced me to go and said we would just go out for a couple hours just to kill some time in the morning.  It hadn't been a great season by any means, we didn't see any deer up to that point and I was starting to get bummed.  As we were heading up to the spot we seemed to go every morning we saw some eyes in the brush.  As we looked closer it turned out to be a doe, but hey, we finally saw a deer things were looking up.  We got to the end of the road and lo and behold there was already a truck parked in our spot.  So dad the optimist that he is said we would just go to the bottom of the clearing about a mile or so away and park to walk the logging road.  It was early and me not feeling to good I fell asleep in the truck.  Then dad woke me up and said "Wake up!  I see something"  I saw a deer at the top of a hill but we couldn't tell if it had horns or not because of some Alder trees growing near the side of the road.  Then the deer went down over a hill.  Dad suggested we get out and walk the road.  As I was loading my 35 Remington I think I dropped every bullet I had.  Dad was about 15 to 20 feet in front of me when I saw him pull his rifle up and fire off a round.  The next thing he said was "2 point".  He then asked if I saw it go down and I said yes.  At this point I was kind of pissed I wanted to get a deer and dad just took it from me.  Oh well I still wanted to be there when one went down.  We waited a few minutes then we went in to the brush.  Dad was going over logs and and bushes like they weren't even there and I was struggling to stay upright.  The next thing I remember is dad going up an incline that seemed like it was 20 ft tall in 2 steps.  Myself I crawled up and got to the top in my dear sweet time.  I looked at dad and he looked at me and then off into the brush.  I looked in the direction he was and there was the most perfect 3 point black tail I had ever seen!  I whispered "Dad!  There he is!"  He said "I Know, Shoot him"  so I aimed and shot him in the head.  We got to the truck after gutting him and the first thing I did was call my grandpa.  He was so proud that he left what ever it was he was working on and went straight to our house being sure to be there when we got home.  As we pulled into the drive way he was standing in the front window and rushed out to meet us. 
I know that dad helped me get that deer, but I don't think I would have it anyother way.  For Christmas that year I woke up early like any kid and went to the bathroom.  I looked out from there and saw what looked like the neck of a deer.  I hurried up and ran out to the living room to see my first trophy mounted on the wall.  I was truly the happiest kid in the world that morning.
When I first moved out with the girl who would be my wife, the first thing I loaded into the truck was that deer head and I still look up at it every day and think about the 3 point I killed when I was 13 (with some help from dad)

THANKS DAD!!!

[Pathfinder101]

I was 13 years old, first year of hunting ever, first actual DAY of hunting ever, absolutely NO clue what I was doing.  My stepdad picked me up after school and we headed up the nearest mountain, right outside of town, HORRIBLY overhunted, but recently logged, so it had some clearcuts/thinned areas.
We drove to a point, hiked a couple of miles and picked out a couple of locations to hang a treestand (this was mostly an armed scouting mission), and walked back to the car.  On the way back down the mountain, with only a few minutes of daylight left, I looked out the passenger side window and saw antlers sticking out of the brush.
Immediate buck fever.  SEVER buck fever.  I started stammering, fumbling in my pockets for shells, etc...  Luckily my stepdad spoke "buck fever" and understood that I had seen something, so he stopped the car.  He did his best to calm me down, got me out of the rig, and start loading me up (had a lever action, model 94, 30-30 win).  None of this seemed to bother the buck, who was bedded not 30 feet off the side of the logging road in the brush, until I closed the action on my rifle.  That did it, before I could shoulder my rifle, he jumped up and was gone into the timber.  I thought I was going to cry.  My dad and I split up and tried following the tracks (BIG tracks), which we were able to do for about 300 yards until we came to a small meadow (actually, an old, grassy clearcut with a large brushpile in the middle.  We lost the tracks in the meadow, so we walked around for a few minutes with me feeling sorry for myself before my dad called it quits and announced that it was almost the end of shooting light. 
I started to walk back towards the truck, dragging my lower lip as I went.  As I passed the brush pile, I decided to get up on a log and try to see a little farther into the timber.  I almost stepped on that buck.  He was bedded in a little pocket, inside the brush pile, watching us search for him.
He busted out and was jumping over a log less than 10 yards from me when I fired at the brown blur.  Hit him right behind the ear (let's just pretend that's where I was aiming... ), and he piled up right there, one back leg still hanging on the log he was jumping over.
Still the biggest whitetail I have ever killed.

[lokidog]

Opening day of WI gun season, 1976.  I was 12, minimum age to hunt in WI.  I had target shot with slugs using my mom's 20 gauge semi auto Remington, bead sight.  I knew my max range was 70 yards.

I dropped my dad off in his stand and walked about 3-400 yards more to my stand in the dark.  This was on the side of a hardwood ridge with a stream below me about 100 yards away.  We had no snow that year so the ground was covered with very crunchy leaves.  I had two tags that year as our "party" (group of four per tag) had drawn a doe tag.  I was given the doe tag (you had to be the one with it in your possession to fill it) since I was the only first timer.

I was very excited to finally get to hunt deer.  I had shot a few ducks already but no pheasants as my dad kept shooting them before I could pull the trigger ("I thought it was getting a little far out for you." ) so I was glad to be by myself.

There were lots of squirrels, every time I heard one in the leaves my heart would skip a beat.  At one point I heard something walking and looked down the ridge to see a buck working his way toward me, it was huge!  I had no binoculars but it was easily the biggest deer I had ever seen, live or on a wall.  He stopped about a hundred yards out (no brush in these woods), turned sideways and stood there for a while.  My heart was pounding out of my chest waiting for him to come within my range.  He walked up and over the ridge.  I might have cried a little but I knew he wasn't in my range...

So I waited and watched.  A chickadee landed on my gun barrel, squirrels continued to taunt me.  Finally, I heard a squirrel in my dad's direction, oh wait it's two deer.  They looked like does but I had a doe tag so I was excited.  They came down the hill, out of range, and turned toward me.  They finally stopped at about 60 yards broadside.  I picked the bigger deer and pulled the trigger.  Wasn't this supposed to be smokeless powder I thought, peering through the smoke to see if I got the deer.  There was still a deer standing there but there was also one laying on the ground in front of it.  Woohoo!!  The second deer finally walked off after what seemed to be an eternity.  I unloaded, climbed down from my stand and walked down to see my doe, wouldn't you know, it turned out to be a spike buck!  Had I had binoculars, I would have known that I could have shot the second deer as well.  Didn't care at the time, I was too happy.

The tradition of our hunting camp was that the first person to get a deer buys the first round of drinks that night.  Luckily I had been saving up my money since it turned out mine was the first deer of the season (in WI a juvenile can be in a bar and actually have a drink with the permission of parent or guardian).  I had a slo gin fizz.

It turned out that my spike was the biggest bodied deer of the season as it was an old deer.  Needless to say, I was hooked.  My sister missed a deer off the same stand eight years later on her first deer hunt using the same 20 gauge.

[Shootmoore]

Great story...Here's mine, amazing how I can remember this so many years ago and not remember what I did yesterday.


October 1979

I had passed my hunters ed that summer and opening day of deer season finally rolled around.  We took off from the house and climbed to the top of the mountain.  Being vertically challenged at 8 years old I think I was taking 4 steps to dads 1.  Also along on the hunt were my Dad, Uncle and two cousins.  My father being the clever feller he was worked along to the top of a ridge, where we could also see the next ridge over.  He told me that my uncle and cousins were working up the other ridge and they would probably push up any bucks. 

We were not there very long when my dad says, you see um?  Being 8 going on 30 not wanting to admit that I didn't see anything I said yep.  Of course I then began frantically scanning the ridge across the way.  I finally spotted 3 bucks along the side of the ridge.  My dad told me to take the one on the right and had me use a stump for a rest.  For some reason I was having a heck of a time holding that gun steady, I was 8 going on 30 dang it I don't get buck fever!  I finally after what seemed like 20 minutes got the crosshairs settled down behind the front shoulder.  I "thought" I squeezed off the shot, the gun bucked and I looked up expecting to see the buck laying there.  Instead it was running up the hill. 

Dad says he's hit, shoot him again.  I worked the lever on that old 99F faster than I had ever done before, which still took both hands.  I some how got the running buck in my scope (an old Bushnell 3x9), I still remember telling myself to lead him, put the crosshairs about 6 inches in front of his noes and "squeezed" the trigger.

I looked again trying to get the leveraction worked again and could not see the buck, I thought I messed up and missed him.  I looked over at my dad, who I remember had a supprised look on his face, he says I'll be damned boy, you got him.

That's when the Adrenalin shakes started, took a few minutes before I could go over and take a look at the buck.  He was just a dink 3 x 3, but I thought he was a monster.  That is when I learned that the real work started after you got your animal down.  My first shot (with a rest) was a little far back missing the heart and lungs.  My second shot took him in the neck running at around 200 yds (I claim to this day it was skill  )

Funny after all these years I still remember that day like it was yesterday.  I thought I was big medicine that day.  Looking through my photo album I realized I only have pictures of 4 deer out of 25 or so.  Glad this was one of them.




Shootmoore

[hirshey]

Good topic!

I was 7 or 8 years old and tickled to death I had passed the Hunter's Safety exam. I had watched for season after season as my parents brought home deer and elk... and finally after working my way up from .22s and the line up, I was comfortable and deadly with a .243. My parents took my sister and me over to a friend's house near Spokane where there was an anterless whitetail season. After days of getting busted and heartbreak, I thought it would be swell if I would never have to hear that HUFF sound of alarm from a whitetail again (even though now I have come to find that sound somewhat comforting). Finally, my big break. A nice whitetail doe walked from the thick canopy out into an opening. I asked my father "dad, where do you want me to shoot it?" ..."right in the neck, sweetie"... And right in the neck I did. First deer down, and a lifetime of hunting ahead.

[lokidog]

Nice Shootmoore, that gun looks almost as long as you are tall.   

Nice job Hirshey!

[HuntingFanatic]

It was 1987 in the Methow Valley. I was 12. First year hunting and I was ready to go! A good 2 hour hike before dawn(It took me 2hrs this year too!) It was snow mountain and we nestled into some rocks at the base of some pine trees. We were seeing some deer and some hunting pressure too. It was about 9 am when a hunter passed behind us. I can remember him vividly. Jeans, a flannel and orange vest with a very bushy beard and mustache. A few minutes later out of a draw 125 yards away stands a buck! I can remember kicking some rocks as I got prone....from there it was like I had done it before. BANG! The deer shuddered. Then, not a second later....BOOOM! My dads .30-06 sounded like a howitzer! The deer went down! Put the gun on half cock and I am ready to get down there! My dad said to take it slow....I wanted to just run down there! There he lay.....a couple of rolls and a short slide from where he stood. I had taken out both shoulders and clipped an artery.....while my dad expecting it to take off broke his neck. After a long hot drag out....low and behold there is the bushy bearded guy to give us a ride to our truck a mile and a half away.

I remember giving my dad some grief about shooting my deer. But all was forgotten the next year in Wyoming when I polished of his antelope!

[Angus]

My story is pretty lame compared to most but I will never forget it. My dad and I were hunting late buck season back in 1984 along the middle fork of the Snoqualmie river. During our morning hunt we waded across the river and hunted an area he shot a nice buck the year before and I missed 1. We hunted in the rain till about 11 without seeing anything, decided to head back to the truck, change into dry clothes and drive to another spot. We drove about 400 yards and a doe came running full speed across the road with a 3 point hot on her heels, jumped out and with about a half a second before they would have disappeared into the brush, I got off 1 shot with my model 99c .308, he piled up right there. Thats my story and I'm sticking to it.

[boneaddict]

I'll see if I can find the older version of this topic with alot of great pics and stories and post the link.  Looking forward to seeing what you new folks have for us.







HERE IT IS:

http://hunting-washington.com/smf/index.php/topic,498.0.html

[Shootmoore]

I'll see if I can find the older version of this topic with alot of great pics and stories and post the link.  Looking forward to seeing what you new folks have for us.







HERE IT IS:

http://hunting-washington.com/smf/index.php/topic,498.0.html

Thanks, reading those now.  Some good reading.

Shootmoore

[Pathfinder101]

We were some lever-action-totin' kids in those days, weren't we...?

[Big Bucks Tim]

We were some lever-action-totin' kids in those days, weren't we...?

I know I was

[Sneaky]

The picture in my mind is way more clear than the photo. I had just turned 11 that september and went out for the first year they opened up the okanogan for any deer youth season. We had several close encounters but I just couldn't keep my rifle steady (I was shooting a 30-06  Rem 710, right after they first came out). We came down a hill and dad looked off to the left and said "get ready son", There she was, not 20 yards away laying down. BOOM she ran about ten yards and piled up. Dad was trying to show me how to gut and the different parts but the heart and lungs at that range with a 150 grain '06 weren't even identifiable  . To this day, I wouldn't trade this experience for a 30" buck.

[bonkellekter]

I have gotta say - I read thru both the old and new threads and this is what it is all about. I cannot wait until my daughter is old enough to start tagging along with me.

I was 9 my first year of hunting and I remember it like it was yesterday. My dad and I were hunting a piece of state ground in the NE corner. we were not too far from the truck on the second day of season and dad saw a buck that was big enough to get him excited. I just got a glimpse of the buck as he walked behind an old cabin. I fumbled to get my .243 loaded and by then he was gone. I spent the rest of the morning following my dad with my bottom lip dragging on the ground. At about 11 AM we were headed back to the truck when I spotted a deer so I put a shell in the chamber put the scope on it and dad said its a spike, you can shoot it if you want to. I don't think he finished his sentence before I squeezed the trigger.

We walked up to were the buck was when I shot and he had walked about 10 feet and layed down (I drilled him in the guts) dad said u better finish him but I wasn't sure what to to so I aimed behind the shoulder, so dad grabbed mine and said no - shoot him in the head. so I did

I remember for 3 years after that dad always tried to talk me out of shooting spikes and two point (he'd say: you don't have to shoot him if you want a bigger buck) but like the first year he would never finish the sentence. He gave up after that. still to this day I have a hard time passing on any legal animal.