Hunting Washington Forum
Big Game Hunting => Deer Hunting => Topic started by: AL WORRELLS KID on September 08, 2018, 03:55:27 PM
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Having just turned 10 years old, it was my first opportunity at a Real Deer Hunt with my Dad. I was determined to prove I could do more than just "bird dog" for the guys.
Carrying my own rifle, (an old borrowed Open Peep Sighted 1944 Enfield that felt like it weighed as much as I did), I was determined!
I could feel my Deer Tag burning a hole in my pocket as we slipped out before the sun was up.
Leaving Dad's favorite stomping grounds up on Bethel Ridge we were headed for the Unit "Rimrock" just past the upper end of the lake.
What had us interested in changing locations was a friends report of glimpsing a Big Buck at dusk the night before.
He shared with us that, "At first I thought it was an Elk, the way he bulldozed his way through the thick brush and he should just be bedded down now, below the Blue Slide this side of the Creek."
Plopping me down just off the main deer trail as it was getting light in the East, the others stalked on to where they hoped to get their shot, leaving me with a whispered, "keep your eyes and ears open, if you see anything, we will be within whistling range".
(Not the best thing to be saying to a kid that, at his age, takes everything very literal!)
Just as the Red Squirrel sends out his first his morning challenge from atop the Ponderosa Pine I'm leaning up against, I hear the sound of shale sliding in my direction down the slope in front of me.
A few seconds later a couple of twigs snap close by and then, Silence, (louder now, than the thoughts racing through my head.)
At first I think it must be my Dad circling, trying to cross the slide, uphill from me. Straining to hear anything, I can see nothing move on the bright sunlit slope above. I think to myself, "I should let him know I'm here, just below where he's at."
Another twig snaps, closer now and I can stand it no longer. I give out a soft whistle, straining to hear anything more, it's now quiet, real quiet, so I whisper...
"Dad, is that you?"
The Canyon Erupts in Echos of Sliding Shale and Hoof Beats Heading Uphill and Away from Me, but Fast!
Still unable to see anything moving, I think, "maybe that wasn't Dad".....could this be my first experience of "Big Buck Fever"? :sry:
When we all meet back at the Rig and they ask "So did anyone see anything?"
I too have to admit...." Not me! Nope, not a thing". :dunno: :chuckle:
Doug
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Great story! Thanks for sharing! When I was a kid and was hunting with friends, if we split up and were supposed to meet later, but my buddy didn't show I always started worrying and thinking the worst.
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Great story! Brings back memories.
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Thanks Guys,
Good memories, (even if they may have been seen as mistakes at the time) I have found they often help to improve my learning curve down the road. :tup:
As an example,
I was invited along at the last minute on a Deer Hunt in the Pearrygin Lake Area near Winthrop, WA by a family of four brothers.
Knowing that their style of hunting was not unlike a Bull in a China Shop, I lingered by our Rig on top of the mountain as it lightened up in the East. Soon everyone tore en-mass down the hill, a real stampede of "Hunters".
I quietly headed down in the opposite direction and waited just above the main deer trail heading out from the area where the guys were busting brush. It wasn't long before here comes three Doe down the trail followed by a nice Buck.
I soon realized how important it is to more than bore sight your rifle in at the last minute and just hope for the best. My first shot at 50 yards missed, as did my second....a third and final shot went over his shoulder just before they headed for parts unknown........another lesson learned the hard way! :bash:
Doug