Remember when.....

[Cam@strawberry]

LAST EDITED ON Mar-18-11 AT 01:44PM (MST)[p]LAST EDITED ON Mar-18-11 AT 01:43?PM (MST)

Been thinkin a bit bout the first elk and deer I killed and the impact it had on me. Attached to my fathers hip, wide eyed and filled with wonder.

My first Elk came opening morning of my first big game hunt. A monster spike ran across the hill side at a distance I haven't shot since nor will I probably ever shoot again. Dad said shoot and off I went......A little bit of Luck and I was hooked for life.

My first deer came two weeks later on opening morning of my first deer hunt. Again attached to my dad, we went out just before dawn and began the hike up a hill. A close friend and his son who would soon become my best and only friend at the time not far away. 20 minutes later another monster spike crossed a hillside at 175 yards. Good enough for me, I remember marking the spot and walking with dad up there. He taught me to find a blood trail and track the deer. Always close behind, i got to walk up on my 'trophy'.

You can picture it 14 year old boy with a rifle as big as he is, head down studying the ground a father close behind, he has already seen the animal down and just waits for his son to look up. Step by step till they are but 5 feet away suddenly a foot comes into view.....excitment and thrill fill the air. A legacy is born and will carry on......

Thanks Dad

Anyone else remember the day?? I don't have pics but post up your stories and pictures if you have them.....

 

[HuntinFool]

Last year was my third year of hunting. I had some close calls the first two seasons, but I could never put it completely together. But last year was different. I got two doe antelope and a doe deer (hate me if you want for shooting a doe, I don't care). The first one I shot was one of the antelope. Didn't realize it at first but my gun was off and I hit it a little far back. I ran up to it and I tried to put a finishing shot into it but the excitement got to me and I missed from five yards! Not realizing it I had left my bullets back with the truck. (stupid move) I was out of bullets and I didn't want to let the doe suffer so I used the only thing I had, my knife. The only thing that kind of freaked out about using the knife is when I grabbed/tackled the antelope it made a noise like a goat. (guess they really are closely related to goats) Not the most ideal way to get your first big game animal but it worked. I am thankful that the other doe antelope, which I got the next day, and the doe deer were clean kills.

 

[foundation]

Berryblaster thanks man , you brought back a wealth of memories and emotions for me thinking about my dad and grandpa teaching me to hunt .

Growing up the hunt was allways about the meat , and there where allways lots of hanging dead deer for me to look at and dream when it would be my turn .

I can remember the feel of anticaption and also the fear of the unknown when it finally came time for big game hunting . I had tons of small game critter experience , and had even helped with the slaughtering of the cows and pigs , but yet some how the first deer was like a milestone in my life .

I think the biggest thing was I didn't want to let my dad or grandpa down , and do some thing stupid or some thing that would embaress them . Looking back I now know that I was worrying about nothing .

I remember all the prep talks about respect for the animals we where going to harvest , all the talk of waiting for the right shot , and just all the advice of how and what to do to be a good hunter / outdoorsman .

The actuall shooting of my first deer was pretty anti climatic compared to all the other learning and experience that went along with it . After a few years I changed from just being a happy meat hunter to being a trophy hunter . My dad was just happy to tag along and be the camp cook , and then happily listen to all the stories when I got back to camp .

I have found that I have come full circle , and now due to family circumstance liking the meat , I'm a meat hunter again . Of course there are still some hunts that I turn back to the trophy hunter .

My dad has passed and we no longer physically share a camp , but in spirit I can feel my dad and grandpa still in camp and in in the field with me . No matter what happens to this day when I harvest a animal , I think about my dad and what he taught me and I get a little choked up and just say a quiet thank you .

 

[wvbowhunterinalaska]

LAST EDITED ON Mar-18-11 AT 10:57PM (MST)[p]Huntin' Fool,
There is no shame in killing does, in fact I have killed more does than I have bucks or males of the species for that matter. In fact my very first whitetail I killed was a doe. Funny thing is you guys have stated that your father was beside you when you killed your first big game animal, mine however was not. My father was recovering from endoscopic knee surgery, he was hobbling on crutches at the house. I had came off the hill twice that day, once shortly after daylight when the neighbors collies had ran three deer past me and I was going to get my rifle out and go hunting for those two worthless potlickers that my neighbors called pets. My father told me to go back up on the hill. So I did and about two hours later I had shot my first WV whitetail with a bow and arrow, in fact it was my first big game animal ever. I came back the second time to the house, hung my bow on the plant hanger hooks on the rafter beams, Dad stepped out and said, "Back for lunch already?". I replied, "Kinda sorta", then I nodded at my bow. He saw three missing arrows from my quiver (I got three shots, missed the first two got her with the third on), he said "You get one?". I told him I had one down, my Mom came out and asked me what had happened, so I told the story all over again. So since Dad was unable to help me go up on the hill to get the deer field dressed (up to this point I had never dressed a deer out, only observed; I think I was only 13 or 14 and still shaken with deer fever, so I was about as steady as a dog trying to crap a pinecone), so my Mom agreed to help me out. I was very fortunate to have parents that understood my love for the outdoors, they knew when hunting season rolled around my free time was going to be consumed by hunting pastimes. I even worked out an arrangement with my Mom that if I made the honor roll, I would get one day each semester off to go hunting; so usually I got one day for archery season in the fall and one day during the spring for turkey; which I usually used on a Friday so I had two days in a row to hunt. Now looking back I sometimes wish I could go back to those days knowing then what I know now. I think I would have tried to hunt more with my Mom's brother who I am named after. He passed away a few years back due to kidney failure, he was the most giving person I have ever known. Gave me my first rifle and my first bow (which ignited my passion for bowhunting and archery related endeavors). I am sure if he was alive today he would be doing the same thing with my son. I was deployed the one and only visit my son made back to visit my folks in WV and Ohio. My wife said that my uncle was transfixed on Jacob during the whole visit. I am glad for all these fond memories, hopefully I can give my son his own memories that he can look back on and smile about when he thinks about family hunts.
WVBOWAK

 

[never_catch]

I had to write a story for school a while back so here it is. Although we didn't kill it, it's still my most memorable hunt to date.

A Ute Trees a Cougar
Winter unleashed its fury as my father and I left home for the most memorable hunt of my life. All I had desired for my twelfth birthday was to be at his side when he pursued a mountain lion, also known by football fans as a cougar. As he drove us south on Redwood Road, I could hear the hounds? howling and barking the entire way in the back of his truck. Dancer, Dumpster, Spazz and Ollie knew where we were going and were as excited as I.
Upon arrival, we parked the truck and began unloading snowmobiles in the most miserable winter conditions I have ever seen. After warming up the sleds, we tore off down the trail. Within thirty minutes the hounds sounded off, signaling that they smelled something to chase. We flicked on our flashlights as we stiffly crawled off our sleds and began searching the snow for tracks. Dad found tracks and said they belonged to a big lion. We released the dogs and listened to them follow Dumpster up and around the mountain for nearly an hour before they were out of earshot. After another hour of trying to keep warm, the sun finally rose to warm my delighted and frozen face. Dad gave me an idiot's guide to his radio tracking system and we located the dogs a mile away.
We drove our way toward the dogs until the sleds could go no further; we then set out on foot through the deep snow to find them. I could hear the hounds? barks growing louder with each step and the anticipation placed a machine gun in my chest where my heart once pulsed. Finally I caught a glimpse of Dancer jumping and barking at the base of a giant tree. As I peered up, up into the tree, I locked eyes with the lion. Surprised to see me, he immediately jumped down fifty feet into the deep powder. I stood in complete shock and watched my domesticated canines swarm the wild feline.
After a ground fight of mere seconds, the cougar evaded the dogs and began running down a deep canyon to my left. My father and I ran to the edge just in time to see the lion make it to the bottom and start up the other side. The hounds were on the lion?s tail the entire way up until the lion finally treed again. We hiked our way over and watched the lion for more than two hours.
We did not shoot the treed cat, as dad had only a pursuit tag, but that day was by far the most fun of my life. Seeing that predator at such a close distance in the wild was an amazing feeling such that I will never forget.

http://i206.photobucket.com/albums/bb37/Feleno/zFix.jpg[/IMG] ~Z~