dgibson
New member
OK, since all of you fancy-shmancy western hunters are shaming me with your tales of hunting prowess, I thought I'd throw in my own tale of woe. Mine doesn't have any exciting stalks or tracking jobs, but it's the best I can do on short notice.
So there I was, about an hour into shooting light on the first morning of KY firearm season. I was sitting in a small patch of woods overlooking a field of standing corn; dear old Dad was a couple of small ridges over and doing the same. I had just finished enjoying the antics of a young raccoon who had been raiding corn when I heard Dad shoot his famous .30-06 built on a Gustaf Mauser action. About 30 or so seconds later, I hear him shoot again. Being the good son that I am, I knew that Dad never likes to let an animal expire on its own, even if it's down. So, I knew that the second shot would be his coup de grace. Again being the good son, I packed up my chit and headed over to his patch o' woods to help with the dressing & hauling. When I got there, Dad was all happy and talking about his shot and how it happened and so on and so forth. Being Dad, there was also much passing of gas and cigarette smoke and so forth. Well, finally Dad bends over to start the field dressing process; he's bent at the waist with his backside in the air, pointing in my direction. (He's still passing gas and yacking at this point).
Well, it was then that a nice buck wanders into the woods out of the corn, sniffing the ground and checking out his territory. Dad's deer was in a shallow gully, so he couldn't see in that direction while he had his a$$ in the air. He also couldn't see me since I was behind him. I said, "Dad, be quiet!" Dad, being a Dad, replies, "What? Why?" I said "Hush!" At that point it's time to do the deed, so I raise my rifle, aim, and shoot.
My aim was (thankfully) decent, so the buck jumped up and then went 4 hooves up. Unfortunately, Dad also got a shock at the same moment and fell over flat on his back like he'd been clubbed with an ugly stick. For the briefest of moments, even though I saw the buck drop, and even though I was pointing the rifle in a direction completely away from Dad, I thought "Oh my God, I've shot my Dad." But, then I saw him flailing his arms around and spewing forth the type of expletives that only Dad can say, so I knew he was OK.
After I got done laughing and Dad got done spewing filth we went to inspect my animal, as well. That's when it struck us that we had two deer to dress and drag out. And skin, and quarter, and butcher. What fun we had!
So that's the story of how my entire (buck) hunting season was wrapped up in about an hour or so of waiting, then 30 seconds of excitement. Sorry for the lack of adventure, but that's all I've got!
So there I was, about an hour into shooting light on the first morning of KY firearm season. I was sitting in a small patch of woods overlooking a field of standing corn; dear old Dad was a couple of small ridges over and doing the same. I had just finished enjoying the antics of a young raccoon who had been raiding corn when I heard Dad shoot his famous .30-06 built on a Gustaf Mauser action. About 30 or so seconds later, I hear him shoot again. Being the good son that I am, I knew that Dad never likes to let an animal expire on its own, even if it's down. So, I knew that the second shot would be his coup de grace. Again being the good son, I packed up my chit and headed over to his patch o' woods to help with the dressing & hauling. When I got there, Dad was all happy and talking about his shot and how it happened and so on and so forth. Being Dad, there was also much passing of gas and cigarette smoke and so forth. Well, finally Dad bends over to start the field dressing process; he's bent at the waist with his backside in the air, pointing in my direction. (He's still passing gas and yacking at this point).
Well, it was then that a nice buck wanders into the woods out of the corn, sniffing the ground and checking out his territory. Dad's deer was in a shallow gully, so he couldn't see in that direction while he had his a$$ in the air. He also couldn't see me since I was behind him. I said, "Dad, be quiet!" Dad, being a Dad, replies, "What? Why?" I said "Hush!" At that point it's time to do the deed, so I raise my rifle, aim, and shoot.
My aim was (thankfully) decent, so the buck jumped up and then went 4 hooves up. Unfortunately, Dad also got a shock at the same moment and fell over flat on his back like he'd been clubbed with an ugly stick. For the briefest of moments, even though I saw the buck drop, and even though I was pointing the rifle in a direction completely away from Dad, I thought "Oh my God, I've shot my Dad." But, then I saw him flailing his arms around and spewing forth the type of expletives that only Dad can say, so I knew he was OK.
After I got done laughing and Dad got done spewing filth we went to inspect my animal, as well. That's when it struck us that we had two deer to dress and drag out. And skin, and quarter, and butcher. What fun we had!
So that's the story of how my entire (buck) hunting season was wrapped up in about an hour or so of waiting, then 30 seconds of excitement. Sorry for the lack of adventure, but that's all I've got!
