Mine was back in about 1982. I lived up in The Dalles, Oregon and my dad and I headed out to the woods. We hit some dirt roads real early in the morning, just looking for some forest to hunt. We saw some good looking timber and walked across the clearing to the edge of it. My dad told me he had to take a dump and he would walk over a ways and then we'd meet up a bit later. I started walking into the timber and saw it dropped into a deep canyon about 50 yards ahead.
As I walked to the edge of the canyon, I heard some crackling leaves and twigs snapping below. I thought "how could my dad have made it all the way down there already?" As i looked over the edge, there HE was. A nice 4 point muley quartering slightly away and walking into the canyon. He had no idea I was there. I quickily raised my 7mm Magnum and took aim. Pow! Right in the neck. He dropped on the spot and rolled a ways downhill. My dad quickly aborted his crap and came running over to find a very excited 17 year old boy jumping up and down yelling "I got him, I got him!"
Anyway, we then gutted him and had to drag him about 100yds straight up the canyon. Very exciting!!!