Guys,

We all can remember that very first buck. The feeling of harvesting an animal so majestic and strong. The reverance for the animal and the harvest. And the memory made and shared with close family/friends is one never forgotten. Special.

My question is, did your first buck demand any respect? Was it an elusive, majestic, mysterious, sneaky, Southern whitetail? Or, was it a pile of Yankee goohey pooh?