Your First Buck ?

Stillwater165

Very Active Member
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Post up a picture of your very first buck, big or small and what state ! I like to take a trip down memory lane every once in a while, back in much better days ……..
 
Here’s mine, Custer South Dakota. I could see Crazy Horse Monument off in the distance. Remington 700 Mountain rifle in 243 complete with a cheap Simmons scope, it never failed me for many years ! My father jumped this little 5x5 from up top in an old burn area. I missed him more times than I hit him but he ended up piled up at the bottom. That fancy huntin shirt was my favorite !
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Don’t have pics available on my phone to post, but I can tell you about it down to every last detail. Skyline drive, above gunnison utah, 2nd day of the bowhunt, first year I could hunt. My dad spotted a tiny 3x3 just off the road feeding during a mid day rain storm, completely oblivious to our presence. Me possessing zero hunting skills beyond the ability to shoot a bow very well, I somehow miraculously walked in to 50 yards of this buck. With him not having a care in the world, I drew back and took careful aim. I don’t know who was more surprised that I actually hit it, me, my dad or the deer. Anyway, bleeding like a stuck pig, he went about 100 yards and fell over. I was so dam proud of that thing. I’ve killed a pile of animals since then and this buck still is my favorite.
 
I actually just found pictures the other day and snapped some with my phone to have them on it.

Here is my first buck, 1999 general season Utah. My second year hunting.
Killing a 4 point was a pretty big deal back then for my family. I had passed on several smaller bucks that season and the season before Because i didn't want to shoot a small one (definitely not the trend in our family)
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These are my first 3 bucks including my first muzzleloader buck a 4x5 I killed with a round ball Hawkens I borrowed from my cousin the first year they allowed youth to hunt all 3 seasons.
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my first buck was a doozy, well in my young mind it was. Hot, dust and dry in those mendo manzanita choked hills. We went up into the edge where the pines and oaks mixed and near the end of the day a buck was foraging for acorns. I probably just watched the patriot or something and remember thinking “ aim small miss small”cause as soon as the blade of the sight was on fir I pulled the trigger and gut shot that poor little guy. He dove straight down into a steep rock drainage and we hustled after him.

Well he was gut shot and the bullet had also mangled his back leg, so instead of climbed out he kept going down the drainage. We kept bumping him maybe 1 or 2 miles in that rocky drainage and eventually he got stuck in a jumble of rocks and we put him down. As the echo of the shot rang out the light faded fast being on the eastern side of the range. We boned him out as quick as we could and hung the last bag in as darkness fell. No head lamps, flash light or no match’s, I’ll never forget the look of fear on grandpas face.

The drainage we entered linked up with a couple of smaller drainages and that eventually formed into a wider large canyon. In the rush to get the deer cut up grandpa didn’t pay mind which we entered from and the darkness prevented us from finding the blood trail. Lucky it was a warm, uncomfortable and thirsty night in those smooth jumble of rocks. the heat from the rocks kept us warm and we pulled the hide over us later in the night. In stead of reversing in the morning we headed down to a creek for water and a mile further to a 4x4 road that crossed the creek, where grandpa was able to get a ride back to the truck.

“ let’s not tell mama about sleeping in the rocks” grandpa said as we drove home. While I never lied about it mom and grandma never asked how we slept that night haha. I returned several year later and laughed at the size of the area, which in my mind was a deep chasm of despair but while rugged was only about two miles square. It’s a good memory and made subsequent suffering seem more tolerable. Wish I had a picture of the look on grandpas face as it faded into darkness around us.
 
When We were In School We had Our Own Big Buck Contests!

Widest Rack Takes The Money!

2 Of My Best Friends Got Decent Bucks The One Year & Width Was Really Close On Both Bucks!

My Friend That Was Lacking About A 1/2" Decided To Get The Handy-Man Jack Out!

A Click One Day!

And Another Click A Couple Days Later!

It Was Kinda Working!

But On The 3rd Click!

SNAP!

Snapped The Scull Plate!

DUH!!!!!!!!:D:D:D
 
First buck was a super dink 3x3. That season I had blown stalk on a nice buck early on. Then located a bachelor herd with some respectable 4x4’s missed one offhand at 100 yards while some other hunters watched. Went back for the last day I could hunt, (this was on fort Carson’s extended season) and started cutting tracks in fresh snow , ended up tracking a group of 8 does with one little 3x3 buck. Figured he would do and knelt with my shooting sticks, took my time and connected. First solo hunt and solo pack out which was fun, although on Carson roads are never too far away
 
I think there is a photo of the deer somewhere, but I did locate the rack just now. The date was Sept.19,1964. The tag is still on the rack. I remember the game warden asked if I saw the fork before I shot? My Dad told the warden to STFU. The warden got red in the face and signed it off. :ROFLMAO:

I had no where to go but up from there.

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33 years ago and I am from a family that if it had any legal horn on one side you was shooting. My boy will be taught the same and he can self regulate his fun as he pleases as he gets older. I shot mine with my grandpa’s Marlin 30-30 with a old scope attached and my dad was in the next canyon over. Different times back then for sure. My older brother shot his first buck that same year and it was a spike and my dad shot a small two point as well that year. It is a great memory.

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My brother and I had finally been allowed to go out alone without dad. He was at church with mom and we hit it early about 4:30 am. My brother had killed a small dorky the day before so it was my turn. We turned up this nice young 4x4 in some nasty salt cedar draws near the Bitter Lakes Wildlife Refuge near Roswell NM. At the time he was the biggest buck anyone in our family had ever taken. That’s me sitting on the deer with my brother holding the rack. Fall 1986. I was a sophomore.
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Well my first one was 50+ years ago,we had road hunted all morning and hadn't seen anything. About 400 yards from camp we saw 3 deer and one was barely legal. They began running off and I found the buck, made the shot and he went head over heals. Upon arriving at the deer, it had no antlers. Dad was hot thinking I shot a doe, my heart sank. After further inspection that little forky broke off both horns in his tumble. Can you spell RELIEF??
 
Well my first one was 50+ years ago,we had road hunted all morning and hadn't seen anything. About 400 yards from camp we saw 3 deer and one was barely legal. They began running off and I found the buck, made the shot and he went head over heals. Upon arriving at the deer, it had no antlers. Dad was hot thinking I shot a doe, my heart sank. After further inspection that little forky broke off both horns in his tumble. Can you spell RELIEF??
:ROFLMAO:That's a great first buck.
 
My first buck was a nice 8 point whitetail in PA in 1977.

My first mulie was a small archery buck in Colorado in 1983.

I'd have to dig deep to find any pictures.
 
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Opening morning, my first ever hunt with a tag and carrying a gun. Dad sat me on a tree watching a clearing all by myself in the pitch of dark. His buddy worked further down around the draw where they'd also sneak out. Dad worked back and pushed/still hunted the timber below the clearing I was watching. I listened to snap crackle pops in the timber while I waited for the sun to come up. I'm guessing it was 15'sih minutes, it felt like hours for a 12 year old boy who was both excited beyond belief and probably, if I'm being honest a little scarred being in the dark timber by myself listening to the snap crackle pop and wondering with wild imagination what might be making the noise. Not to long after sunrise this buck stepped out. I was shaking so bad I missed him clean at 125 yards the first shot. After settling down my second shot was a perfectly placed .243 and he flopped over.

We ran the buck back to town to skin and hang him at Grandpa's shop, same as we did with all of our animals. Dad's buddy gave me a drink of his beer, he said there was only one more first in life for me that would really matter. I still recall many of the details of that day as if they had happened yesterday.
 
Here is my first, in Colorado 2006. I got him opening day around noon and I remember seeing deer everywhere all morning, this was the first one I got close enough to. My Dad left me sitting alone, and I got a really bad bloody nose that I couldn’t get to stop bleeding. I remember calling on the radio that I needed help, then a herd of deer came running through the sagebrush clearing I was sitting in, with this guy being at the end of them. “The Nosebleed Buck”!
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