Do You Recall Your First Deer?
 

Many moons ago my father had the nerve to place a 30-30 in my hands almost a full decade before I was eligible to get my driver's license. LOL! Heck, I was driving before that. Dad placed me behind the wheel on some dusty back roads here in MN and I never looked back. No, really, I never looked back. I was too scared to take my eyes off the road in front of me. LOL!

Back then we wore red flannel long sleeved button up shirts. Not these hi-vis fluorescent orange requirements they have today. He was at my side as we left the pickup and started still hunting down an old logging road. The Winchester 94 felt like a solid piece of steel for those little hands at the time. Dad always either followed or was at my right side. As we crested over this rise over-looking this over-grown clear cut, we still made out the outline of a deer... a Big deer! He pointed to it about the same time I spotted it. He didn't have to say a thing. My instincts kicked in.

As I raised the rifle to my shoulder, I recall seeing only a dot at the end of my gun as I was using open sights. This buck was about a hundred yards away as the crow flies. I pointed the rifle and yanked the trigger. The buck did a 360° spin, then a 180° spin. Suddenly my dad pulled the gun from my hands and emptied the gun at him as the buck hopped away into thicker brush. He yelled to me to go back to my uncle, who was with us on this hunt, and get more shells. Don't know why, but as I came jogging along, my uncle knew what I needed and started digging in his shirt pocket before I even reached him. LOL! You know what? Honestly, this just hit me and I NEVER thought of it until now... my uncle knew because of the many successive shots! Duh!

My father pursued with the Winchester 12 ga. with slugs. About half way back to the spot where I made the shot, I heard a shot echo in the distance. I knew what happened. As I got closer, I could hear him yelling for me. I saw where the buck ran and the blood trail was nothing like I've seen even to this day. Even Ray Charles could have followed it. When I caught up to my dad, he was drenched with blood from following the trail. He told me he caught up to the buck which was down and he finished it off. Like I didn't know. LOL! He was excited too I guess!

It took years for me to realize I really did get that buck. I had thought, being a kid and all, that HE is the one who killed him, not me. I know now though. When I fired, I hit the buck's neck which was why there was so much blood. The unbelievable part was his gutted weight, so I'll leave that out. Let's just say it was a very very heavy buck! LOL!

On a special note, this was an 8 point buck and thinking back and looking at the pic, he was in the upper 130's to lower 140's. You know what we did with that rack? Threw it away. We weren't into big racks at that time. Can't believe he/we did that. Back in the day, all the rage was how heavy a buck was and not his headgear size.

That was my first buck, shot off hand a 100 yards away in the neck. I can still remember it. Dad is gone now, but he's still alive in the memories we shared in the hunting woods!

So, do you remember your first deer? Let's hear it.

iSnipe

oh yea, like it was yesterday. It was the first time my step-dad agreed let me sit by myself while hunting with him. He told me he was going to walk up the logging road and that he wouldnt be back till the sun went down. I remember I was so scared to be in the woods by myself after dark. and after he walked away thats all I kept thinking about. Well it was about 15 minutes before sundown and I was starting to get nervous, when I heard something coming from a thicket about 50 yards from me. I raised my 30-30 and as soon as I saw it was a deer I pulled the trigger. It was such a bad shot that I thought I missed him because after he ran off I walked to where I shot him and there was no blood. When my step dad got back to me it was dark and I was so scared he would be mad at me because I thought I had missed it. But he found a small amount of blood and I was so excited. We followed the blood trail for a long time, there was very little blood so my stepfather thought I had just nicked him or hit him high, but then 20 feet ahead lay my first deer. It was the best feeling I have ever had in my life when I saw that button buck laying there, to me it was just as good as any 10 pointer. I dont think any buck I ever get will measure up to that first deer.

Boy do I remember my first deer!! I was 19 years old and borrowed a 30-30 Winchester to camp out with guys from work on paper company land in Adams county Wisconsin. The whole week before we left I was sick with the Asian flu and was I sick. I was still sick when we drove up from Ripon, Wisconsin. We camped out in a tent and that year it was -20º F. the first night. We slept with all our hunting clothes on, in the sleeping bags, camp stove and lanterns all lit to try to keep warm. The tent was right on a deer trail and there was steam coming through the wall of the tent from a deer sniffing me, LOL. Next morning I felt great. That cold knocked the flu right out of me. But I was really tired from not getting any sleep all night. (Excited on my first hunt and so cold we couldn't sleep well).

I saw literally hundreds of deer that first morning but no bucks. I left my stand (just sitting on a log) and walked a ways and there was this babbling brook with a grass bank on one side and tamerack on the other. I sat down and reclined on that nice grass bank and in minutes was sound asleep. I woke up to the sound of what appeared to be another hunter crunching through the tamerack so sat up. The biggest whitetail buck I've ever seen in my life (and to this day) appeared 40 yards broadside to me just on the other side of the brook. I emptied that 30-30 into the buck and he never even flinched. Just trotted up the hill like I never touched him. There was a nice blood trail so I slowly followed it up the hill about 100 yards where the deer laid dead and the friend that brought me deer hunting (and talked me into it) had his tag on the deer. He claimed the deer had been there overnight even though this was opening day. Well, it was the oldest buck you ever saw, huge and the rack was easily a 150 class buck or better. In any case, I now use a .300 win mag for whitetail hunting and no one tags my deer anymore. I could have made a big issue but at that time I really didn't realize what a trophy buck that thing was.

And (probably from guilt) he gave me some of the meat and it was so smelly and bad it was un-edible. I wished I would have bought a camera back then and taken pictures of the deer. I could still rightfully claim it was my first buck.

nice stories warbird and isnipe

I was a 15yr ole lad when my uncle placed me in one of his deer stands overlooking a purple hull pea patch on his farm here in Arkansas. About 30 minutes after daylight 3 does can out to mill around in the peas (bucks only that year). Just a bit later this little 5pt came calling and I let him have it with my open sighted Marlin 30-30. My dad never hunted so I am very lucky I had a uncle that was willing to take me. I still have the horns out in my shop. That was 30 years ago and I can still remember that day like it was yesterday. From that moment on I was hooked on whitetail deer hunting.

Doe season, 1981. Savage 340C in 30-30.

I was sitting on the top of a hill over-looking a big hollow. Sense something behind me. It was a heard of doe and the lead one is big. I decided to mount the gun and spin around in one motion.

I hit the deer a little far back. But my old man tracked that sucker until he found it. Came back to the cabin and got me.

We got the doe mounted. :)

Yep.. My dad put me in a ground blind sitting in a sleeping bag. I sat there for what seemed then like hours (it was probably only 30-40 minutes) until a nice little eight point walked by. At 10 yards I put the bullet a little far back but he fell after shot four went into him. I started shootin with the first shot and emptied my gun on him. I didn't know any better. I was 9.

Like it was yesterday!! I hunted all season and saw a few deer only does with my uncle. For the last week of the season he let me draw a stand for my self, I was 16. First day it was cold and raining, and the guy I took to teh stand was not feeling good. I rode him back to the club house and when I returned a dog driver was in the field where my stand was and he said that a big big just jumped over my bucket. I was a bit bumbed but I went and sat back on my bucket and in a matter of minutes a big doe came by and I killed her. It made me forget all about not seeing the buck. The next morning I was on a stand 100 yards from Rt 58, and it was very busy, I could not here at all. I looked one way down a path and then when I turned back there was 2 bucks standing in teh path. I shoot what looked like the biggest buck and he dropped with the pull of the trigger, the other buck turned and ran down the path a few yards before he jumped into the woods. When he turned and I could see the width I knew I made the wrong choice. My buck was a 19 inch 9 pointer and I am very pleased with it but the other deer ended up being a 22 inch 11 pointer that was killed by a guy further down the path. Great first season and in a couple of days I will see my first buck at mom's except it looks like rodulph this time of year with a red nose and bells around its neck.

I guess I was about 15 years old. My dad dropped me off at the edge of an oatfield with a Remington 700-.270 and told me to shoot a deer. So, I guess I did...

There was a cleared sendero along side the road that headed back into the brush. When they had cleared thay bit of pasture to plant oats, they piled up rocks around the perimeter, so I camped out on one pile near the edge. A doe crossed the sendero behind me so I turned around and started watching her. A little freak horn 5 pt follwed her out and well, no mystery here, I blasted him. And that was my first deer. Not real exciting, I guess.

Later that year, my dad and I went up to New Mexico to hunt elk. Ironically, I haven't been since although I had the chance 2 years ago. This was...20 years ago? We hunted hard for 5 days and never saw nothing until on the final day, an elk came barrelling down into this little valley and was headed up the other side and we let loose on him. My dad hit him 3 times and I hit him once and he finally dropped. That was pretty exciting.

I was sitting on a log in the snow. Year was 1961. A spike came charging up over a ridge, saw me & froze. I dropped it broadside at 18 feet with a 12 ga slug.