I was 12 when I first got to legally hunt. I was on my own. The only person in my family who hunted was my Grandpa, and he passed away when I was 3. I was using his JC Higgins 12 gauge pump from when he was in high school. I never had sucess until I turned 14. After reading a few books and subscribing to outdoor magazines, I started to learn more about hunting.

November 2001. My dog of 17 years died the thursday before opening weekend. I was a wreck. I never really lost a family member at an older age. It was a big deal to me.

That opening morning, I set out on foot from my house to a fence line about 3 miles from my house. I remember getting to my spot in the pitch dark, a little scared. I sat down in some tall weeds against a tree and began to wait. About a half an hour later I heard something moving to my right down the fence line, where there was a mound of dirt surrounded by tall weeds. It started to get light out and as my eyes started to adjust, I could see the outline of a deer. My heart was pounding, I didn't even know if it was a buck or a doe. It started walking towards me about 10 minutes later, and thats when I seen the nice rack. It got about 10 yards away, my arms are shaking, I aim down the sights and pull the trigger. A nice 8 point buck for my first deer ever.

The best day of hunting in my life, which I will never forget. A nice deer with my Grandpa's old JC Higgins 12 gauge "Old Yeller"