Your first deer

[dsinwi]

Saw this on another site so thought I would pass it on over here. It helped me relive a time when I was a very young and inexperience hunter. I'm not young any more and to honest probably not that experienced either. It also brought back a lot of good memories and thoughts of fellow hunters no longer with us today.
Here goes...
WI Bayfield county 1977 sitting on a large ravine over looking the Barden Creek, not far off the bank of Lake Superior. My Dad left me by the "pail" early that morning. An old steel pail hung on a tree there. It become a point of reference for our gang and a number of nice bucks were shot within site of it over the years. Dad wondered over later in the morning and took a seat next to me on the log I was on. We heard ice braking down on the creek and Dad told me to stand up. A short time later a respectable 8 pointer wondered up the hill quartering toward me. In my inexperience I froze, open site of the 30-30 I was using locked on the deer eye to eye at about 30 yards. Dad couldn't see the deer seated on the log and at a steep downward angle. Dad whispers what is it? I say big buck. Dad says shoot it. After that commotion the deer was alert and turned. I set the site behind the shoulder and fired. Deer takes off running faster than anything I've ever seen in my life. It was a streak in the woods through my eyes. Dad jumps to his feet with his auto 06 open sights and gets off two shots. He was a crack shot with that gun. We return to our seat and discuss the events. Dad laughs at me, I still have no idea what happened. Dad's brother wonders over a short time later and says deer is down, heard a crash near him but didn't see the deer. We track it a ways and recover the deer with two gut shot holes. Dad says tag your buck. Dad and Uncle are grinning ear to ear. Giggling watching me clean a gut shot deer. I had gutted deer before but nothing like this one. I remember: My frozen butt and fingers. The sound of that ice breaking. The look in that deer's eyes staring at me. The crack of the rifle. Dad chuckling at me after we shot.(Pretty sure he knew he hit the deer good but has never told me) The look on Dad and Uncle's face when we recovered the deer.
I've shot quite a few of my own deer since. Not sure where some of the horns are now. Still have that 8pt hanging in my home today.
We had great times at our old deer camp. Shot some real big deer. I wish we still had one. I wish I was old enough then to realize what we had and the good friendships we shared during the 9 day gun season.
I still part take in the season with my son at my place. Haven't shot a deer with a gun in ~8 years. Brother still heads north. Son will be off to the military next summer. Dad will probably sit his first season out this year due to cancer. Only uncle on Dad's side gone from cancer.
Thanks for the post and allowing me relive that memory.

Thanks for reading.

 

[kl9]

Thanks for posting. What I find very interesting is that nearly every hunter can tell a very detailed story of their first successful hunt. I think it goes to show the passion many of us have for the hunting tradition.

 

[MoBuckChaser]

It was a lot of years ago, 1973 I was 14 years old! But I remember it like it was yesterday! Early, I mean early morning in the end of Nov at the state park in Hinckley MN. The neighbor guy had built these 2' square wood hang on stands, we hung in some trees back off a farm field about 200 yards. He said it will be a great place to catch deer coming and going. He was right! There was snow on the ground and it was cold out that morning. I got up in the stand a hour before dark and got my eyes focused so good you could see really well and the sun wasn't up yet. About a half hour later here Two yearlings came down the trail, then this big doe came by and stopped at 15 yards broadside. I was shaking so dam bad, but I hooked my finger tab on my string of my $17 Kmart recurve, pulled back my wood arrow tipped with a 2 blade bear broadhead, put my one sight pin right behind the shoulder and let fly! Then all hell broke loose, twigs in the way, deer crashing out all over, smashing through the woods, I didn't know which one was what. Then the woods got calm and very still. I was still shaking so bad with buck fever, I sat down on the stand and hung onto the tree waiting for day light. A 1/2 hour went by, the sun came out and here comes a guy doing a stalk right under my stand, I was still shaking but he never heard me up there, so away he went. I got down another half hour later and went back to the truck to wait for help. Everyone came in and we went out to look for my deer, that I had no idea if I hit or not. But it laid only 50 yards from my tree, deader than hell! I was happy as all hell that my arrow made it through all the branches in the dark and hit its mark. We gutted it out and hung it in a tree at camp. That is when this picture was taken.

 

[kl9]

Big doe!

 

[MoBuckChaser]

Big doe!

Just under 200 lbs dressed. Biggest deer I have ever shot


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[j-bird]

Well I don't have to go that far back in time for mine as some of you all do. I wasn't even born yet when MO killed his first! Mo more than likely has socks older than I am!!!!

It was October 2002 (for the record I was 28).

I decided to deer hunt after growing up fishing and hunting small game. Dad and Grandpa just where not big game hunters. They made it look so easy on TV - so "what the hell". My first deer was a doe I killed with a compound bow (which I still use today). I was sitting on a stump without and blind or cover about 3/4 the way up a steep slope that overlooked a harvested corn field. She came walking in around mid-morning and I put it to her. She didn't go far. I had hunted for 2 years prior (1 full season of general firearms and the second year was a full season of general firearms and muzzleloader) without success. I was against using a bow because of the limited distance - but was talked into it because more time in the woods meant a greater chance at success. I have been hooked ever since. Those first seasons I was lucky to even see a deer at all, much less get a shot at one. No picture, no weight or anything like that....sorry.

 

[chucker66]

I remember it like it was yesterday even though it was 1980. Wisconsin had just come out with the Hunters Choice instead of the Doe Party Tag. I didn't have one but one of the other kids (17 YO) had one left on the second to last day of the 9 day gun season. It was my first year at the camp with my Dad and 2 older brothers. We had an old refurbished chicken coop for a shack and 10 or 12 guys stayed out there. Wood stove, coleman lanterns, an outhouse and no running water. What I wouldn't give to have a camp like that again. Since I was the rookie at the camp it was my job to walk down to Sand Creek and get fresh water. Back then that water was so clean and tasted so good it was worth it. Anyway, like I said, it was the last Saturday of the season and all we had in camp was a big doe my older brother had shot earlier in the week. There were only 4 of us left at camp by this time so my Dad decided to push the huge spruce swamp hoping we could at least fill the one remaining Doe tag we had. My brother put me on the top of a small pine ridge and I found a blowdown to sit on. My dad had started the push and nothing was really happening when all of a sudden I heard a deer running up the hill and when it went to cross the logging road I pulled up my 30-30 Winchester and aimed for the chest. When I shot the deer tipped over and rolled down the hill. I thought I killed it right there but it got up and came up the hill again so I shot again and it ran off. I was sure I hit it but not sure how good. I was also sure it was a doe so at least we filled that tag. About 15 minutes later (seemed like 3 hours) my Dad, brother and the other kid came walking up the hill to "see what Chuck missed this time" Well, I told them the story and took them to the blood trail and we started tracking. We only went about 40 yards when my dad says "Hey that's a buck" I could not believe it, I ran up to the deer and was jumping around like a fool. It was a 4 pt with a spike on the side that was facing me and 3 on the other side so I never saw the antlers. Turns out I hit it with both shots and they were only about an inch apart but it was gut shot. Luckily my older brother volunteered to gut it out for me but little did I know I would be paying him back several times over the next few years gutting out his deer :). I have my own place now but its just my son and I. I sure miss the days of the old hunting shack.

 

[IkemanTx]

November 1998, Montague County Tx north of a little town called "Saint Jo".

I was 11 years old in an old box blind on a 5 acre winter wheat field. It was a cool morning, but not cold. As kids tend to do, I fell asleep shortly after getting into the blind. My father spent probably five minutes trying to wake me up before the word "deer" finally registered in my brain and I instantly switched from unconscious to so keyed up I almost forgot to breathe. In my eagerness to kill a deer, and any deer at that, I line up the scope of the 30-06 on a fawn that had probably just lost its spots. Luckily, my father coaxed me onto the nanny doe instead. She was quartering away from me, and i didn't know to adjust my shot accordingly, so my entry shot would have made for a beautiful broadside shot.... but instead, I caught one lung and blew out her opposite shoulder. The poor girl could barely stay off the ground, but all I could see was "my deer" getting away. I started yelling about shooting her again and was told to just wait. She made it maybe 50 yards in an open field before folding up.

It is one of the few things in my life I can still see, hear, and smell from memory. Unfortunately, my wife and I don't have the money for a lease. But, my father has been kind enough to take our son out for his first couple deer. Lease rules dictate that I can't bee there until special for season in January, so I have had to live vicariously through video. I can't wait until he is old enough to handle going in with me on public land and taking one out of the same tree as me.

My wife just doesn't understand, but those early memories of hunting are very much my favorite memories. It all seems like "wasted money" to her, but I know he will remember them for the rest of his life.


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[browndog]

I forget the year it happened, but it was many years ago with my grandpa(my dad doesn't hunt)it was during the gun season. It was pouring rain on the Sunday of opening weekend. I begged him to go that morning but he didn't want to go because it was raining, but I was a little persistent brat...we ended up going. I was wet, cold as hell and shot a 7ptr with a 303 british that I bought with my own money. We were both proud as peacocks. My grandma always talked about how persistent I was that Sunday morning. I didn't need a special youth season either:rolleyes:

 

[scott44]

My grandparents had about a 300 acre farm and everyone in the family would go there to hunt, rifle season was a big thing back then. I was 17 and it was 1980, opening day. There was a rock pile out in one of his pastures with a tree growing out of it so it made a good spot to sit, this was before we ever had blinds. My uncle was hunting a couple hundred yards east of me and after lunch I was sitting on this rock pile and just about a sleep and my uncle shot, I looked up and saw a buck at about 125yds and shot 3 times at him and I didn't think I even hit him because he ran off. We found him just after where I saw him last and he ended up having been hit 4 times, once by my uncle and 3 times by me. He was a 9 pt and I was using my dad's Remington 700 30-06.

 

[gunther89]

The year was 2002 and it was opening day of Wisconsin's gun season. I was a 13 year old kid who was using my dad's old open sight 30-30. I was sitting with my grandpa overlooking a steep side hill with some oak trees in it. I was watching the side hill when way up top, I see an antlerless deer standing. I fire off a shot and the deer never moves. I fire another shot as well as my grandpa and the deer doesn't move. I remember actually taking my time and focusing on lining up the sights on the deer and after my 3rd shot, the deer runs off. My grandpa said I hit it and so I run up the steep side hill only to not find any blood. I come back down and my grandpa then follows me up to the top. He tells me to follow the kicked up leaves and sure enough 75 yards later, there laid a nice big doe. I had heart shot her. When I looked up in my grandpa's eyes, I could see how proud he was of me and from that day forward, the fire was lit in me.

 

[Natty Bumppo]

Unlike many of your great stories, my first deer brings back bad memories and shame. I was 21 in the early 1990's, fresh out of the military, and hunting alone deep in the backcountry swamps of VT Larry Benoit style...something I have always loved. Picked up a fresh big buck track early in the AM and began following it for many hours...found some scrapes it made, big track with a wide shouldered gait, it was alone, meandering. I finally caught up with the deer in a flash of brown...I pulled up with my Remington 7600 .30-06 carbine and pumped 3 rounds into him as he ran off. Found blood...lots of it...found the deer...and it was a doe? WTF??? I had no doe tag. I gutted the doe and dragged her out of the woods, met some other hunters on the way, they called the game wardens on me, and when I arrived at my truck the game wardens were waiting for me. They were polite and cordial. I was forthcoming. Felt like $*#t. Ended up in front of a judge, paid a $400 fine, lost my license in VT for 3 years, and didn't go deer hunting again anywhere for 5 years.

No hero shot. No great story. No good memories. But, I have never forgotten the experience and it has shaped me as an outdoorsman and taught me many lessons that I carry with me each time I go afield. Looking back, I think what happened was that I mixed up the track of the buck with a different deer when many different tracks kind of all came together in a bedding area.

I have many great memories and stories of my 2nd deer, 3rd deer, etc. Just not my first.

 

[bueller]

I was around 18 years old. Was taught to sit in a tree stand over corn and just wait for the deer to show up. I never liked that. I would get down and wander around more often than not.

Armed with a Remington 700 .30-06 and a hunters choice permit I was still hunting late in the afternoon. I came up to a small meadow where a deer was standing along the woodline not more than 25 yards from me. First time I saw it was when it busted out of there. It was a buck. He trotted away but didn't go far. Knowing the lay of the land and the direction the buck was headed I decided to act quickly. I literally sprinted to an old path that I figured he would cross, hopefully before sundown. I set up along that path in the prone position and waited. Maybe 10 minutes later I see a deer approaching the path from my view underneath the brush. I get the scope on it and find the head. It's a buck, a big one! I settle the cross hairs back onto the body and fire one shot. Buck takes off and I hear it crash.

We all meet up after dark and I tell the story of the buck I shot. We go out and find him. WTF it's a spiker:eek:. They rip me pretty good about my "big buck". We need a knife to cut him. Of course I have one, I'm a deer hunter right. I bring out my big ass 10" curved blade, dull as hell, that proves to be completely useless.

I learned a lot that day. And have been hooked on still hunting ever since.