I was when I started hunting ,and still am not, the best shot with a rifle and I can admit it. So when I started hunting( about 15 years ago) I went a few times with a buddy for some rifle hunting, this was totally new to me. I didnt care what i shot i just wanted to say i shot a deer. After a morning hunt where buck fever and mostly fogged up eyeglasses prevented me from getting a shot on a monster buck, we went back to the cabin for lunch. Sitting there someone yelled "DEER!", that he saw out the window. We all ran out and a doe was down in a valley this Cabin overlooked, a couple guys took a shot and missed, I took my shot from 300 yards and the deer twirls and drops!! We go to find it and I ended up shooting it's back legs off and had to put a finishing shot in it. Well it ended up being a button buck not a doe! Didn't matter to me, I was so proud and it tasted great. That deer started what now is a full out addiction with hunting, although I almost exclusively bowhunt now I still love the opportunity for a good rifle hunt occasionally.
1996, first year out. I bought a savage 30-30 bolt action open sights for $150, bought some 180 gr federals, and went out with my cousins and their friends. Waist high snow, good and crisp outside,lol. I sat down until about 11:15, when I saw a rabbit. I was bored, so I started looking for it, when I look into the field and see a deer. I aim and fire, and it runs off like nothing happened. I go look for blood, and see nothing. I feel sick to my stomack that I missed, so I started following the tracks, hoping for another chance at it. After 25 yds it jumps a fence, and a few feet further I see a little sprinkling of blood. Odd I think, so I keep looking. A little further I find more blood, then more, then there it is, in between 2 trees, a deer. I poked it by the bullet hole, and fresh blood comes out, so I know it is mine,lol. I run out, start hollering at my cousin who was hunting a little ways off. He congrats me, then asks what it is. I had to laugh and say a deer, because I never thought to look for horns, haha. He can't believe it. We go look, and it is a big bodied young 4x4. Shot him right behind the shoulder, the heart was in two pieces, the lungs were a mess, and his far side shoulder had a hole where the bullet came out. Turns out it was 150 yds.
Talk about beginners luck, wow I had no idea how green to hunting I was, I had never really been around hunters or been told what to do, where to go, what to look for after a shot or hit,etc. Fishing was always my main passion, but after that experience, hunting has taken over and fishing is almost an afterthought,lol.
I took my 1st deer in 1974. I was hunting with my mom's cousin on 400 acres of woods that his family owned. It was my first deer hunt. Billy positioned me about 20' up in a platform stand, and showed me where the deer should move through shortly after 1st light. Sure enough, just after 1st light, I heard deer moving through the woods, making their way toward me. All of a sudden, I saw a line of 7 or 8 headed toward me...the game trail they were on would have them pass about 50 yards in front of me, from right to left. I shouldered my rifle, and held on an opening they should pass through. Here they came....doe, doe, doe, doe, doe, doe, doe, BUCK! BANG! And they all took off running. Let me tell you something...I flew 137 combat missions in Southeast Asia, and I never shook as much as I was when I first saw those deer in my sights, and, also, after the shot. Billy had instructed me to not leave my stand until he came and got me. He had heard me shoot, and he came over to my stand within 5 minutes. I told him I shot a buck, and he asked how many points did it have. I said that I'm not sure, but there were a lot. He smiled and we went over to where the deer was when I shot. He bent down, and showed me the hair, a little blood, and some yellowish-green fluid, and he said "GUT SHOT". He showed me some corn that had been in the stomach, and then a blob of real dark blood. Then he said that it looks like I hit the liver too, so he should be down within 150-200 yards. Sure enough, we followed the trail, and walked right up to him. I couldn't believe it. I had shot my first buck, on opening day, within 10 minutes of legal shooting time. I said, "man, this is easy". Famous last words...I went another 5 years before I even saw another buck. Oh by the way, my proclamation of lots of points.....well, turned out it was a fork horn...chalk it up to excitement, I suppose. In the photo, I'm the guy in the plaid shirt.
I believe i was 13 or 14 at the time and my grandpa and my uncles took me hunting to Cartwright for their annual trip. My uncle set me up on the corner of the field on a tree line with some bails as cover on an alfalfa field and he went a few hundred yards away behing some big round bales. Well the morning went on and all of a sudden a spiker comes out 75ish yards away. Well i fired off 5 shots out of a lever action 30-30 faster than my uncle has heard his brother shoot his semi auto! All misses! talk about buck fever! My uncle pops his head up over the bales...apparently he was sleeping and didnt even see the deer! He motions me to just sit for a bit. So 15 mins later i see the same buck hop over the fence again and onto the field! 4 shots later, hes laying on the ground not 50 yards from me. Buck fever again but ended up hitting him twice! Not the biggest deer by no means, but it is always brought up at family functions. Had my first shot of whiskey that weekend as well, as i was coming down with something so my grandpa poured me a hot totty, sweated it out that night and good to go the next morning! :shock:
My 1st buck I took in 1986.We were staying at the Oakland inn in Wawanesa and I remember the 1st day being a bust for me and my dad.So after supper I went to the bar for a couple drinks....Well I started chatting up the waitress hours slipped by and before I know it was closing time.
Anyway my dad wakes me up the next morning and it wasn't good.We get to our hunting spot at Souris Riverbend WMA.I told my dad to drop me off at the 1st trail as the walk In the cool air through the snow would probably do me good.I walked the trail to a ridge that overlooked an alfalfa field........Nothing...And thank god,I don't think my head could have handled a gunshot at the moment.
So I find this nice large rock and decided to have a siesta for a couple hours as deer hunting was pretty much the last thing on my mind.I met up with my dad and we decided to head east to Treesbank as he new a couple areas out that way and things were really slow where we were.
So we get out there and he turns off onto a trail which cuts through 100 yards of bush followed by probably a 3/4 mile by mile and a half opening.He says we will drive to the bush in the back..park the truck and walk some trails.Well half way across the opening he says "look a buck and doe running across the opening,Get your gun". So I grab my gun and pulled 1 bullet out of the box fumbled with the door handle abit,but finally made it back behind the truck on my dad's side.I drop down on one knee as I am doing this my dad yells "and don't hit the doe...it's bucks only season". So I line up on the buck give it a bit of lead as they are motoring pretty good and squeeze off a shot and hope to hell this ain't gonna hurt my head.
At the shot the Buck goes end over end.Now for the 200 yard run up to the buck through 8 inches of snow,while my dad drove the truck.The buck was a nice 4x4 netting about 120".I'm still not sure whether to call him my 1st buck or the hangover buck!All in all it ended up being a great day!!
There isn't a whole lot the story of my first buck. It was the early 90's, and it was bucks only in the area that I grew up and hunted in. My dad wasn't and still isn't a hunter, but both my brothers and I wanted to hunt. So our great uncle took us out as we each became of age to hunt. I had saved money from cutting lawns and doing other odd jobs to buy a rifle. It was a Remington model 7 in 308 topped with a Tasco 3-9x32 scope in Redfield rings and mounts and I would be shooting Federal grey box 150 grain ammo from it. I thought I had the hunting world by the tail with this set up after using my grandpa's jungle carbine equipped with the military sights for the first couple years of my young hunting career.
Each fall my uncle had friends stay with him for a week of deer hunting. A father and two sons that were about my age made the trek from Brandon for general hunting season every year. Over the years having an eager kid tagging along and constantly wanting to get his hands in and help with the skinning and gutting of the harvest my uncle's guests eventually became my friends as well. We were all going out for an afternoon hunt, my uncle had one of his friend’s sons and the other along with me was going hunting with the father. Our plan was to set up a doe decoy in an alfalfa field with the hopes that it would peak a buck’s curiosity. We were walking along the north edge of the snowy field; I was in the lead following a vehicle track along the bush line. A doe was busy feeding to the south side of the field and didn't concern herself with our activity. As we walked a young buck bounded over the fence focused on the doe. We instantly stopped walking and I raised my rifle. The small 4x4 took a few steps toward the doe, before stopping broad side to look at us. I steadied my cross hairs tight behind his shoulder and took a shot. The buck immediately hunched and sped off on a run into the field. The bullet had found its mark and it was over quickly as the deer came to rest in the white meadow. After a few pictures we field dressed my first buck and loaded him into our vehicle. We finished the evening hunting the field since there was a lot of time left in the day, but came up home with only my deer. It's been almost 20 years since that afternoon, but I still remember it like it was yesterday.
Well not my first buck, but my first with archery... I was doing some scouting in late august one year and stumbled upon a tank of a 6X5... Figured my best chance at him was in velvet... So I bought a bow about four or five days before the bow opener and practiced as best I could with it in those few short days before the opener... I had the deer figured out, a spot picked out, and vowed it was him or nothing!!! First morning wind was no good, so When I went to work that evening I said " if the wind is outta the south east I won't be here tomorrow"... Well I woke up to my SE wind!!! I got settled into my makeshift bale blind around 2:00 in the afternoon and proceeded to have a two hour nap... After my beauty sleep I started my vigil, and three hours later this nice little 4X4 steps into the field... I told myself that it wasn't the deer I wanted and to wait... Well twenty minutes later I was at full draw on him at 12yds!!! A quick "UURP" and the arrow hit home!!! a short tracking job and he was all mine!!! Even though he wasn't the monster I was after I don't think I've ever been so proud of a deer!!! I think I sprinted to my truck to get home and phone my cousin to come help me get him... But... When I got to work the next day, they were less than impressed... Guess my "wind" excuse wasn't good enough!!! I didn't get fired, but my punishment was supplying the steak for the nightshift BBQ, which I happily agreed too!!!
closing day, 2001. I had been taken out of school for the opening week, and hunted the second and last weekends on the season. This was a very unusual season, and there were does EVERYWHERE. I had been brainwashed by my father to think that shooting does was bad, and as such I had reluctantly passed up at least a dozen does in the previous days of hunting.
He set me up in a small pasture that we had never seen any deer in, but always had tracks running across it. We sat for the last 4 hours of legal shooting light, until we heard a very loud twang noise coming from a barbwire fence to the south of us. Several seconds later, a buck appeared, and was slowly walking across the pasture.
I put my scope on him, and all I could see was rack. Before my dad could confirm that it was a buck, I squeezed off a shot, and he dropped on the spot. I quickly ran the 87 yards to where he lay, to discover a very unique rack. He was a big 5 on one side, and a single spoon horn on the other. He had apparently broken his rack towards the end of velvet, and turned one side into a single point, about 7 inches long, that was shaped like a tablespoon. we refer to him as spoony.
I quickly put a follow up shot into him, to finish him off, as my shot had only broken his two front legs. My father then handed me his buck knife, and told me to clean him while he ran to get the truck. Not an easy task for a young kid who had never cleaned anything besides geese and walleyes.
That night we celebrated with a couple of local farmers. They brought a bottle of home brew out to our cabin, and gave me a shot. I proceeded to sleep till 8 a.m. the next morning. Too large of an adrenaline rush, followed by 150 proof booze, does not do good for a 13 year old kid.
I remember my 1st deer like it was yesterday. I was 13, it was December 1st, 1984. Last day of season. There was snow hanging all over the trees and it was bitterly cold. It looked like one of those winter wonderland pictures you see.
It was the 1st year I was allowed to carry a rifle, a borrowed Winchester Model 94, 30-30. It had one of those 2X pistol scoped mounted on it and I thought it was the coolest gun in the world.
I was with my dad, hunting on our property. We were actually on our way home late in the morning and were walking along an overgrown fence line that separated our place from the neighbors.
I was cold so my dad told me to hustle up ahead in order to get warm. About 300 yards up the line I spotted something dark and out of place in all the whiteness, but with all the snow hanging on the trees I couldn’t tell what it was. My little 2x scope did nothing to help so I waved my dad up and we debated whether or not it was one of the neighbor’s cows that had possibly escaped. When the thing hit a meadow and turned broadside it was obviously a deer with a good sized rack and I blurted out, “It’s a big buck”.
The deer headed for the fence and jumped onto the neighbor’s side so we started hustling forward. The buck followed the fence for a few yards and then jumped back. We actually never knew what he had done at the time, he just disappeared temporarily. I found out the next day when I went back and followed his tracks to see what he had done and relive my moment of glory. LOL!
Anyway, he jumped back and we saw him come back into the meadow and turn up the fence line towards us at about 75 yards away. I dropped to one knee with my dad crouched over me. The deer jerked its head up as it spotted us. I remember the crosshairs finding the center of his chest as he was facing straight at us. My dad says he told me to shoot but honestly I never heard it. I shot and the buck dropped right there. He was kicking around trying to get up as my dad ran up and I sat stunned and shaking in the snow.
Dad plugged him one more time in the neck but it wasn’t going anywhere. My shot had been perfect. We then stood there looking at it for a few minutes. Not only did it have a big freaky rack but it had a huge body as well. It looked like a steer laying there. I shot one years later that the butcher figured would have been 300lbs on the hoof but my dad swears my 1st had a bigger body.
After my dad gutted him while I ran around in circles trying to stay warm we dragged him the ¼ mile home, taking lots of breaks to talk about the whole deal. It was great.
Once home, word got out and neighbors started showing up to take pictures. Guys were talking about seeing that buck and having been after him. I felt like a hero.
My boy is almost 10 and has a couple years to wait but I really hope he remembers his 1st deer the way I remember mine.