Do you remember your first time?

[devon deer]

Clear your minds, I meant your first deer!

I was late to deer hunting, shot my first when I was 33.
I remember the morning so well, it was early May, around 07.00, I looked over a stone wall and in the morning son was a Roe Doe and this Roe Buck, it was enjoying the warm sun and doing little dances around the doe, which initially made me think twice about squeezing the trigger, but I did, as I thought if I don’t do it now I never will.
I will admit to having a wave of sadness take over for a few minutes, but it passed, then I thought, ‘I crap, I only have a pen knife, and only gutted rabbits before’, but I got it done and never looked back.
I time in my life I will never forget, 27 years later still knocking them over.
Sorry for the photo quality it’s a photo of a photo.
Any memories or photo’s of your first animal?
Cheers
Richard

 

[jvanhoy]

It was back in 1990 or so for me. I was 11 or 12. My uncle took me up to National forest in Grayson co Virginia. He sat me down in the edge of a small grassy hollow coming up to a big field. Right at dark a deer came out and started feeding up my way. It was probably all of 10 yards before I was positive it was a buck and legal to shoot. I threw my single shot 20 gauge up and let a slug fly. I must have got lucky because I remember being so torn up no way I did much aiming. I’ve been hooked ever since.

 

[Salmonchaser]

53 years ago, 12 years old, Springfield 03/A3; Central Oregon, Mule Deer. I had missed several deer in the morning, I liked to shoot too fast. Dad took all my ammo away save two rounds. I don’t have a picture but found that dad had saved the antlers while I was settling his estate a couple months ago. Need to make a proper mount.

 

[SaskHunter]

I come from a non-hunting/gun family. It's actually one of my sister's (many) boyfriends who got me into it. I started at 16 but didn't shoot anything until I was 19, a 6 point whitetail. My first 2 seasons were as part of a camp, as much as I enjoyed hunting, this wasn't the thing for me and early on I preferred doing my own thing which is when finally became successful. My first season alone was on a tiny family piece, I found out that shooting a deer at 5 yds while looking through a scope that was sighted in for 100, wasn't great and missed. The following season I got access to a larger 120 acre piece which I would hunt for a few years until I moved west. This guy came to some hot does, I remember him rubbing a tree and not giving me a shot for what seemed like hours but I didn't mind as this was my first shot at a buck, the first of many. I met my wife that winter and her father being one of the best eastern whitetail hunter that I personally know (don't tell him I said that) obviously fueled my addiction.

Here's my first, on my own, whitetail buck!

 

[recon6036]

November 15th 1984 at 4:15pm, while sitting next to a large pine tree in the Hiawatha National forest. I was 15 y.o.
Got it scored 4 years later. Been trying to top it since.

 

[Bluffgruff]

October 26th 1996, sandy coastal plain of Georgia, just after 7am. I was 12 years old. I had killed a doe the previous fall, but not a buck. A deer walked out into the 2-track in the 10 year old pines. I saw some antlers, took the shot, saw him kick. I found a single quarter-sized splotch of blood and some kicked up tracks in the damp sand. I didn't see any more blood from that spot, so being 12, went back to the truck and slept for 3 hours. At lunch, my father and our other hunting buddy returned to the trucks, were surprised to find me there asleep, and to learn I had shot something. In short order, they had found the deer 50 yards into the thick underbrush. The deer was a broken horned 7pt, 1½ years old. He's mounted the oldschool style on a plaque, like all my dad's old whitetails, looking more like a Coues' than an eastern whitetail.
Amazing how fresh that has remained in my mind.
My first mule deer was late October, 1997 in Colorado. It was my first western hunt, a deer and elk combo, semi-guided by Lone Cone outfitters near Norwood, Colorado. A crazy weather week and limited opportunities ended in a texas heart shot on a 2x4 mule deer buck in the snow on the 2nd to last day of the hunt. My dad finishing him off with a spine shot after he ducked through some oakbrush following his does.

These firsts tend to stick with you. I hope my girls get to experience the same thing in a few years.

 

[MarvB]

1972 opening day, 13y/o (couldn’t hunt the prior season by 18 days from my bday) tiny 2x1 blacktail pops out of the brush, see me, blasts straight away up the ridge! I jump off the stump, throw up the 760 pump 30-06, get the crosshairs of the Lupe right on the old Texas heart shot
Down he goes.....20 mins later...up comes my breakfast as my BIL made sure I never took that shot again!

 

[F250]

November 1975 I was 18 years old. Whitetail buck 110 lbs. 3 points on one side and a spike on the other. I was using a Remington Model 760 in .300 Savage with a peep sight. Caught him trotting along a runway when I was still hunting. I emptied the magazine and hit his vitals every time at about 50 yards !! Big celebration at deer camp that night. My Dad and his buddies were as excited as I was !! Labatt’s beer is still my favorite

 

[Buffs35]

Buffalo county Wisconsin. Opening day of rifle season in 1999. Just outside Gilmanton. My two uncles walked a crick midday and i was posted at the end. A doe and a small buck came running down the creek bed towards me. Somehow my .300 weatherby was enough to put the small buck down from 10 yards on the trot. He did two somersaults and came to a rest.

 

[Pighunter]

My first deer was running when I shot it, November 12, 1994. It was before sunrise, opening day in Pembroke KY, and I was sitting cross-legged on a tarp overlooking a field.. it had been recently turned and planted with wheat and the ground was soft. At first light I saw two deer several hundred yards away. I waited for them to get closer and something at the end of the field spooked them, probably another hunter on the adjacent farm. One buck headed my way and was going to run in a tangent with a closest approach of about 100 yards. That's where I planned to take him.

I raised the Remington 788 in .308 Win to my shoulder with my elbows propped on my knees. Looking through that 4x fixed Bushnell, I swung the barrel along with the buck, trying to decide how far to lead the shot. I aimed in front of the deer's nose and the first shot missed - too much lead! I quickly racked the bolt, got back on target, aiming about even with the nose and pulled the trigger a second time. The bullet connected with the neck and the 6-point's head dropped with the antlers embedding into that soft earth and his rear legs somersaulted over the body with the deer stopping movement facing the way he'd come. I counted 120 paces to the body and put one more shot into his chest just for insurance. It was about 6:15 am and the buck weighed about 160 lbs. Excellent! I didn't let my host or the hired hand know it was my first. Handloaded Barnes X-bullet.

Lucky. The bullet hit about dead center of the neck. To this day, I suspect the deer broke his spine with that acrobatic move.

On the following day, my second deer was also taken on the run. No deer showed on the field that early Sunday morning and I was back at the farmhouse before 9:00. The farm's hired hand said he often saw deer bedding in the undergrowth around another field and suggested we take a walk about to see. Well, why not? I had a doe tag to fill so I grabbed the M1 Garand and off we went... We just finished walking around some small barns when suddenly, an antlerless deer got up and started running. I brought the rifle to my shoulder, found the deer in the peep sights, and fired, dropping the doe on the spot at 40 yards. I was using Hornady 150 gr handloads in once-fired military brass. I believe I still have a few rounds from that lot... 26 years later, LOL!

 

[gouch]

Aug. 1968. Bow hunting with my dad on an extremely hot day, temps in the high 90s. I went out wandering in the woods in the heat of the day while my dad stayed back in camp keeping a close eye on the cool stream running by our camp. As I was dragging my ass back to camp, not having seen anything and completely worn out, I got to the road leading to camp. I looked up the road and saw a huge buck crossing the road maybe 150 yards away. I ran up there but he had vanished in the dense brush. I walked back and when I got to where I was when I spotted the buck I looked back and a doe and fawn were crossing the road in the same spot as the buck had. So I went back to the spot to wait and see if anything else came by. I walked back to a small clearing in the brush and stood there. I was there maybe five minutes when I hear a deer coming. I could only see small glimpses of it as it walked toward me through the brush then all of a sudden I saw antlers. A velvet antlered forked horn was heading right towards me so of course I started shaking like aspen leaves in the afternoon breeze. The buck stepped into the open 6 yards away and as I drew back my 50# Ben Pearson recurve, the arrow swung out away from the bow. I tilted the bow and the arrow came back with a big clank but surprisingly the buck didn't react at all. I drew again and released. WACK! a perfect double lung shot. But my arrow went flying straight up into the air as the buck swung around and ran back the way he had come. I thought the arrow had bounced of the deer. When I picked up the arrow however, I realized that the wooden arrow had broken leaving 6 inches of shaft and the broadhead in the deer while the other half flew back out. I did later cut my finger on that broadhead in my very first, pathetic, attempt at field dressing a deer. I followed a decent but not great blood trail for about 40 yards when I entered a nice clearing in the brush where I saw one of the most beautiful sights I had ever seen. A dead deer laying motionless another 20 yards away. Nether my dad nor I had ever killed a deer before so we made just about every mistake you could make handing that deer which made for some not so good tasting venison but we certainly learned from our mistakes.

 

[ssmusicman]

Sometime during the 1981 WI gun deer season, a doe. Took me to 1990 before I was able to get my first buck, actually shot 2 on that opening day.

 

[OntarioHunter]

I'm beginning to feel old on here.

Shot my first deer (plural) the fall of 1965 after I had just turned 13. Dad, my older brother, and I traveled to the CMR in Missouri Breaks to hunt mule deer ... and antelope if we got deer taken care of early. And we did not. The deer were cooperating but we were making a dog's breakfast of it. Dad was clearly getting frustrated. He took time off work and money was tight while we were building a new house. The second morning we rounded a corner in Dad's extremely unreliable '62 Ford pickup on one of those cow puncher roads and two deer were standing fifty yards away on the passenger side. We almost drove by before I spotted them. Mike was in the middle and Dad was driving. "There's one!" The truck comes to a sliding stop, Dad bails out with his 30-06 Springfield, and runs around the back. Bang! "Where is it?" "Pat just dropped it. But look! There's another one!" "Where?" Bang. "On the ground. He shot that one too" (two tags were valid for East Side in those days). Dad was a lot less grumpy after that. Mike later shot a huge old stinky buck with a rack that no one in the family has ever topped. His second deer I think. Dad passed in '99 but Mike and I still hunt muleys on the East Side every fall ... with a bag of assorted licorice in the truck. Dad always claimed it brought us good luck that day. Glad we weren't eating prunes!

 

[Doublecluck]

I was 16, her dad wasn’t around much.. the apartments we lived in... oh deer? Yea 2001 right up near those communication towers between Orange County and Corona Ca d-15. Bear bow my grandmother bought me from a fingerhut catalog, deer jumped the string and arrow went right through it’s neck.. dead city, we’re talking blood bath!! 2x2.. covered in ticks.. yuk

 

[CPAjeff]

2002...

Utah’s age requirements for big game was 14 back then. We struck out on the general season buck hunt, but I had also drawn a two-doe tag for December that year (my older brother also had two doe tags for the same unit - this will come back to play later).

Anyway, we made our way to the hunting area and found a fresh blanket of snow. I was packing my Dad’s .243 - like most of you, I heard countless campfire stories of big mule deer bucks being killed with “the rifle.” Hunting with the .243 was like a rite of passage - pulling that rifle out of the case and looking through the fixed 4x scope was magical!

After driving to the top of a ridge, we quickly located a group of 10 does and the stalk was on. With the wind in our faces, we snuck within 100 yards and got setup for the shot. Being the youngest in the group, I got to shoot after my older brother. The deer were completely oblivious to our presence, and we sat there until the buck fever subsided.

At last, my Dad told my brother to shoot whenever he was comfortable. BOOM went the 7mm and down went doe #1. Dad asked if I was steady on one, and being over anxious, thought that was the go-ahead! BOOM went the .243 and down went doe #2. Caught in the moment, Dad told us to hurry and fill our other tags if we had a good shot on the remaining does. I pulled off on another doe and so did my brother. BOOM, BOOM, two more does down.

The reality of the work ahead never crossed my mind until after we finished gutting doe #1 ... a few hours later, all four does were loaded in the truck and we were headed into town for a cheeseburger and fries!!

 

[grizzly63]

1979 I was 16, carrying a Bear Polar LTD, button buck looking out of the cornfield. Hit him right at junction of neck and chest facing me. He spun and painted the corn stalks red for 50 yds. Been hooked ever since. Dad cut the horns off so i could carry them around in my wallet. Always a joker in the crowd.

 

[Dave N]

Opening day November 1976 I was 15 years old. Sitting in my tree and a 7 point buck came by. Shot once with my Ithaca Deerslayer 12 gauge and put a slug in the lungs. Almost forgot I was up in a tree and just about stepped out to go look at my deer. Had it mounted and years later found out my father carries a picture of me with my buck in his wallet to this day!

 

[shrapnel]

Fall 1965, I was 11. I shot a doe mule deer and was so excited I couldn’t contain myself. I used my dad’s 25-35 SRC. In those days you didn’t have to shoot big bucks to be considered successful. When I got to school, I talked about it for days and the other kids listened with envy.

We have come a long way since...

 

[D4570]

I was 12 the first season I could hunt. My brother and I saved our paper route money and went to gather and bought a Winchester 94, 30/30. He had shot a deer the year before with it a nice 3x3 mule deer. My turn first that year and we managed to wound to death a great 4x4 mule deer buck. Every year since I'm 67 now I have hunted down a 4 point deer. I have made better shots and I have taken better deer but the first one I will remember forever...

 

[WyoDoug]

I went hunting with my dad as soon as I was able to walk and talk. I got my first .22 single shot when I was about 9 and started shooting wabbits. Then when I was 14 I got my Winchester 30-30. With that, when I turned 16 I got my first elk after my dad ribbed me for wasting money on an elk license. Long story there, but after my dad showed in in camp seeing me by the camp fire with an elk hanging on the deer rack, he said he would never tell me I was not seeing elk and won't tell me not to buy a license again.