TOO Story Tellers Lounge
- Thread starter bowhunter1023
- Start date
My first deer hunt.
I started my hunting career with a bolt action .410 and there are some humorous stories to share about that. Field mouse running over my foot and I thinking it was a baby rabbit, not having my shotgun anywhere near me as I relaxed on a hillside as a squirrel runs down the tree not even 10 yards away, not being able to get the safety off as my dad is busting through briars and grape vines and flushes a grouse right past me at point blank range. However, none of those hold a candle to my first deer hunt.
My parents had just bought approximately 50 acres outside of Freeport a year or two prior. I was in Junior high and my dad had bought me my Remington 1100 20 gauge and we had sighted it in. I still carry that gun and it has been not only reliable but also very accurate as quite a few deer have found out. I was allowed to take the first day of the deer gun season off from school and was very excited and could hardly sleep the night before.
We woke up early and walked in by flashlight. I remember it being challenging to walk carrying my shotgun, clothes, some food and drink and a 5 gallon bucket that I was going to sit on. The woods was also a different place in the dark, looked nothing like the woods I had walked in before.
My dad set me up in the place he thought I would have the best luck at. We had noted quite a few trails in the area and it is actually a natural funnel in the area and is one of the best places to see deer on the entire property. He left me to sit further down the ridgeline from me.
I sat and watched the sun come up, seeing and hearing the woods as everything wakes up for the day. It became the first of many mornings I was blessed enough to enjoy that special time in nature. I saw the normal things, squirrels, birds, etc. but not any deer.
At some point I got bored and wanted to walk around some. I was familiar with the woods but was concerned about getting turned around and lost so I took my blaze orange heavy coat and hung it up over the brush behind my bucket so I could see it from distance and know where I was. I then went for a slow walk down into the valley between the two ridges on our property. The property had been logged prior to our purchasing it and I find a nice stump to sit on and relaxed. I then did what happens to a lot of hunters, fell asleep for a while.
While I was asleep some deer came up the ridge behind my Dad and started moving towards the funnel. My Dad could see them but knew they were moving right towards me so he watched them and waited for me to shoot. At some point he saw them get nervous and start pawing at the ground and stomping. He kept waiting for a shot but none happened. The deer eventually moved on and he got up to see what was wrong with me. He got closer to see that the deer were spooked by the breeze causing my blaze orange jacket to flutter. He sat down and waited for me to return. I woke up and made my way back to my jacket which is where I found my dad and found out about my lost opportunity.
My Dad knew I was tired of sitting so we decided to slowly hunt though part of our property. He took the bottom more brushy area and I took just below the ridgeline. The plan was he was hoping a deer would jump up and run up the hill away from him and towards me to get me a shot at one. We had made it just past my napping spot when a doe jumped up. She attempted to run behind us and not up the ridge to me so my Dad took the shot and dropped her. I then went down and watched my first deer get field dressed but I could tell my Dad was disappointed I still hadn't shot. After field dressing the doe and dragging her to near where we parked the truck we went back to my spot to sit out the rest of the afternoon.
We were talking about I don't even remember what or maybe we were just sitting in silence, I don't remember. However, while we were sitting where I had sat that morning a Ruffed grouse flew up and landed on a tree branch not 30 feet from where we were sitting. It sat there for what seemed like 20 minutes but was probably closer to 5 and remains one of the most amazing things I have ever seen in the woods. We didn't see any more deer that day and it took me a few more seasons before I got my first deer on the ground but that day will forever be chiseled in my memory.
I started my hunting career with a bolt action .410 and there are some humorous stories to share about that. Field mouse running over my foot and I thinking it was a baby rabbit, not having my shotgun anywhere near me as I relaxed on a hillside as a squirrel runs down the tree not even 10 yards away, not being able to get the safety off as my dad is busting through briars and grape vines and flushes a grouse right past me at point blank range. However, none of those hold a candle to my first deer hunt.
My parents had just bought approximately 50 acres outside of Freeport a year or two prior. I was in Junior high and my dad had bought me my Remington 1100 20 gauge and we had sighted it in. I still carry that gun and it has been not only reliable but also very accurate as quite a few deer have found out. I was allowed to take the first day of the deer gun season off from school and was very excited and could hardly sleep the night before.
We woke up early and walked in by flashlight. I remember it being challenging to walk carrying my shotgun, clothes, some food and drink and a 5 gallon bucket that I was going to sit on. The woods was also a different place in the dark, looked nothing like the woods I had walked in before.
My dad set me up in the place he thought I would have the best luck at. We had noted quite a few trails in the area and it is actually a natural funnel in the area and is one of the best places to see deer on the entire property. He left me to sit further down the ridgeline from me.
I sat and watched the sun come up, seeing and hearing the woods as everything wakes up for the day. It became the first of many mornings I was blessed enough to enjoy that special time in nature. I saw the normal things, squirrels, birds, etc. but not any deer.
At some point I got bored and wanted to walk around some. I was familiar with the woods but was concerned about getting turned around and lost so I took my blaze orange heavy coat and hung it up over the brush behind my bucket so I could see it from distance and know where I was. I then went for a slow walk down into the valley between the two ridges on our property. The property had been logged prior to our purchasing it and I find a nice stump to sit on and relaxed. I then did what happens to a lot of hunters, fell asleep for a while.
While I was asleep some deer came up the ridge behind my Dad and started moving towards the funnel. My Dad could see them but knew they were moving right towards me so he watched them and waited for me to shoot. At some point he saw them get nervous and start pawing at the ground and stomping. He kept waiting for a shot but none happened. The deer eventually moved on and he got up to see what was wrong with me. He got closer to see that the deer were spooked by the breeze causing my blaze orange jacket to flutter. He sat down and waited for me to return. I woke up and made my way back to my jacket which is where I found my dad and found out about my lost opportunity.
My Dad knew I was tired of sitting so we decided to slowly hunt though part of our property. He took the bottom more brushy area and I took just below the ridgeline. The plan was he was hoping a deer would jump up and run up the hill away from him and towards me to get me a shot at one. We had made it just past my napping spot when a doe jumped up. She attempted to run behind us and not up the ridge to me so my Dad took the shot and dropped her. I then went down and watched my first deer get field dressed but I could tell my Dad was disappointed I still hadn't shot. After field dressing the doe and dragging her to near where we parked the truck we went back to my spot to sit out the rest of the afternoon.
We were talking about I don't even remember what or maybe we were just sitting in silence, I don't remember. However, while we were sitting where I had sat that morning a Ruffed grouse flew up and landed on a tree branch not 30 feet from where we were sitting. It sat there for what seemed like 20 minutes but was probably closer to 5 and remains one of the most amazing things I have ever seen in the woods. We didn't see any more deer that day and it took me a few more seasons before I got my first deer on the ground but that day will forever be chiseled in my memory.
Fullbore
Senior Member
Awesome stories fellas!
Here's a story that I have shared just recently with my Bro and our daughters, that is surly my most disasterest day in the timber.
It was the bow opener in 2009 and all day at work is was planning my afternoon hunt and preparations that I need to do. As soon as I got home I jumped in the shower and packed my fanny pack with water and all my essentials. I then loaded up the Rhino and down the road I go, to a standing corn field that surrounds my tree stand from 3 sides. Now this corn field is about 10 acres and the corn is 8-10 foot tall and my best route to my stand is through this maze of corn. Now I am aware that deer like to bed in this particular field, so great care was taken to quietly slither my way with the wind in my face to the far side in which my stand was located.
With my bow in hand and my back pack strapped on, I start my approach towards my stand. This is where everything comes apart! For starters, like a dumb ass I attach my 4 finger release on my bow string before I start through the corn field. I get all the way through this shit and almost to my stand undetected. I look down and my 80.00 true fire release is not on my string!!!
So, I start to back track through all this corn trying to retrace my foot prints. So by this point, day light is slowly trickling away and my much anticipated hunt is falling apart! I make it all the way back to my Rhino and start back the way I started hoping to find my release laying in the dirt between the rows of corn. I find myself about a 100 yards in and toting my bow through this corn was really taxing so I lay it down and continue my search for my release. Now I find myself on my hands and knees going back in the direction of where I started and I see what appears to be antlers laying on the ground about 6-7 rows away! Holy Crap! I just found a matched set of sheds!!!! I immediately start bear crawling through the rows of corn and dive my hands at these new found "sheds" only to be dishearten that they were my "own" rattling horns that had fallen off my back pack with out me knowing it! You talk about a kick in the nut sack!
So now, it's almost dark and my bow and release are somewheres in this 10 acre standing corn field and I just found my rattling horns that I didn't know I lost!!!!! Terrific! I frantically start searching for my bow this time and I did get lucky and found it before dark, but my release never did get found.
So I gather up my bow and head back to the Rhino soaked with sweat and mumbling to myself. I get back home and my wife asks, " how'd you do" and " your home early"? Lol.
I laugh at myself every time I reflect back to that day. Here's some advise "DON'T EVER PUT YOUR RELEASE ON YOUR BOWSTRING UNTIL YOU GET ON STAND! Lol
Here's a story that I have shared just recently with my Bro and our daughters, that is surly my most disasterest day in the timber.
It was the bow opener in 2009 and all day at work is was planning my afternoon hunt and preparations that I need to do. As soon as I got home I jumped in the shower and packed my fanny pack with water and all my essentials. I then loaded up the Rhino and down the road I go, to a standing corn field that surrounds my tree stand from 3 sides. Now this corn field is about 10 acres and the corn is 8-10 foot tall and my best route to my stand is through this maze of corn. Now I am aware that deer like to bed in this particular field, so great care was taken to quietly slither my way with the wind in my face to the far side in which my stand was located.
With my bow in hand and my back pack strapped on, I start my approach towards my stand. This is where everything comes apart! For starters, like a dumb ass I attach my 4 finger release on my bow string before I start through the corn field. I get all the way through this shit and almost to my stand undetected. I look down and my 80.00 true fire release is not on my string!!!
So, I start to back track through all this corn trying to retrace my foot prints. So by this point, day light is slowly trickling away and my much anticipated hunt is falling apart! I make it all the way back to my Rhino and start back the way I started hoping to find my release laying in the dirt between the rows of corn. I find myself about a 100 yards in and toting my bow through this corn was really taxing so I lay it down and continue my search for my release. Now I find myself on my hands and knees going back in the direction of where I started and I see what appears to be antlers laying on the ground about 6-7 rows away! Holy Crap! I just found a matched set of sheds!!!! I immediately start bear crawling through the rows of corn and dive my hands at these new found "sheds" only to be dishearten that they were my "own" rattling horns that had fallen off my back pack with out me knowing it! You talk about a kick in the nut sack!
So now, it's almost dark and my bow and release are somewheres in this 10 acre standing corn field and I just found my rattling horns that I didn't know I lost!!!!! Terrific! I frantically start searching for my bow this time and I did get lucky and found it before dark, but my release never did get found.
So I gather up my bow and head back to the Rhino soaked with sweat and mumbling to myself. I get back home and my wife asks, " how'd you do" and " your home early"? Lol.
I laugh at myself every time I reflect back to that day. Here's some advise "DON'T EVER PUT YOUR RELEASE ON YOUR BOWSTRING UNTIL YOU GET ON STAND! Lol
That story NEVER gets old bro!!! One of the funniest I've ever heard!
Imagining you going at them sheds like a silverback gorilla is hilarious!
Imagining you going at them sheds like a silverback gorilla is hilarious!
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Fullbore
Senior Member
Very few memories stand out in my mind the way this one does. Who knew finding a turtle shell could transform your life?
For a short time in my life, I was fortunate enough to hunt on a 300+ acre family farm. “The Hill”, as it was known, belonged to my dad’s mother and her second husband. The farm was originally purchased by my dad’s father (and mother pre-divorce) and it became the training ground for deer hunting in our family. My dad and his 4 brothers all cut their teeth on that farm, as did several of us grandkids. My first ever hunt took place in 1989 on that farm in a spot located between the “Beech Grove” and “The Flat”. The plan was for me to sit with my dad on the edge of a wooded flat while my uncles staged themselves in various strategic locations throughout the farm. Then, as he’s always done, my uncle Jason would “wander”. Very few people I have ever shared the woods with can nudge deer slowly around a block of woods like he can. And on that farm, he had 15 years of practice, so it was a well-vetted process!
True to form, not long after sunrise and shortly into his walkabout, Jason jumped several deer out of a thicket located on the backside of the Beech Grove. Like they always did, they dropped straight off the hill, hopped the creek, and started up the other side to find safety in the regrowth of a timbered area of the farm. The last deer in the group was a “respectable” 8-point and he was coming right at us! Of course being patient and having the foresight to see better shooting opportunities at 7 seems to elude most of us. And apparently, you get tunnel vision and lose hearing too because I didn’t hear dad telling me to wait and the shot sure as hell wasn’t anywhere near the deer! I can distinctly remember taking my head off the stock to look over the barrel at this buck and mid-admiration of his rack, the gun went off!
Inspection of the crime scene revealed a small crater in the creek bottom caused by a .410; no hair, blood or deer either. And here come the uncles, several of whom saw the whole thing go down, so the ribbing starts before they ever get to the creek bottom!
After deciding the critical mission was meat and it’d be easier without a 7-year old, my uncle Jim volunteered to walk me back to the house and he’d take up watch over a known funnel not too far off the back porch. Uncle Jim was a bit of a real-life Marlboro Man, which was a far departure from my dad’s more buttoned-down, stoic nature. Jim and Jason ran the rodeo scene, smoked like trains, drank like sailors and generally set a great example for what I wanted to be when I grew up!So getting to spend time with him alone was an exciting prospect to me at that moment in time!
We meandered along the creek as we worked our way back to my grandma’s house, uncle Jim telling family hunting stories that might as well have been Roosevelt or Hemingway tales to me at the moment. When we reached the spring below the cabin, we stopped to check it out. As my uncle Jim was explaining what the spring was, I noticed this turtle shell nearby and at the time, it was “treasure” and I had to have it. Uncle Jim used water from the spring to clean it out, then handed it to me full of spring water to drink.
Now, you have to understand my mom was an original “helicopter mom”, and a bit of a hypochondriac, so the thought of drinking water from a turtle shell paralyzed me for a moment…
But as I’d be most of my life, I quickly got over the fear and reprisal and went for it in the moment. That water was cold, clear and clean. Satisfying! It was a moment in time where I was connected with not just my immediate ancestors, but those who’d walked that very holler for centuries before. I can still see the vivid green of the moss growing on the rocks around the outlet of the spring. I can see the pale grey skies of the late November morning. I felt as “cool” as that spring water at that moment in time. There I was: carrying a gun in the woods with my rebel uncle, doing rebel things. I'd come of age. That feeling (and vision) is etched into my brain like few other memories.
A few years back, uncle Jim and I were passing the Mason jar back and forth around a campfire at uncle Jason’s and I told him this story. I thanked him for taking the time to do something that seemed small to him at the time, but that it made a lasting impact on me. That morning, and particularly that moment, is when I became a hunter and this keepsake serves as a reminder of that memory…
For a short time in my life, I was fortunate enough to hunt on a 300+ acre family farm. “The Hill”, as it was known, belonged to my dad’s mother and her second husband. The farm was originally purchased by my dad’s father (and mother pre-divorce) and it became the training ground for deer hunting in our family. My dad and his 4 brothers all cut their teeth on that farm, as did several of us grandkids. My first ever hunt took place in 1989 on that farm in a spot located between the “Beech Grove” and “The Flat”. The plan was for me to sit with my dad on the edge of a wooded flat while my uncles staged themselves in various strategic locations throughout the farm. Then, as he’s always done, my uncle Jason would “wander”. Very few people I have ever shared the woods with can nudge deer slowly around a block of woods like he can. And on that farm, he had 15 years of practice, so it was a well-vetted process!
True to form, not long after sunrise and shortly into his walkabout, Jason jumped several deer out of a thicket located on the backside of the Beech Grove. Like they always did, they dropped straight off the hill, hopped the creek, and started up the other side to find safety in the regrowth of a timbered area of the farm. The last deer in the group was a “respectable” 8-point and he was coming right at us! Of course being patient and having the foresight to see better shooting opportunities at 7 seems to elude most of us. And apparently, you get tunnel vision and lose hearing too because I didn’t hear dad telling me to wait and the shot sure as hell wasn’t anywhere near the deer! I can distinctly remember taking my head off the stock to look over the barrel at this buck and mid-admiration of his rack, the gun went off!
Inspection of the crime scene revealed a small crater in the creek bottom caused by a .410; no hair, blood or deer either. And here come the uncles, several of whom saw the whole thing go down, so the ribbing starts before they ever get to the creek bottom!
After deciding the critical mission was meat and it’d be easier without a 7-year old, my uncle Jim volunteered to walk me back to the house and he’d take up watch over a known funnel not too far off the back porch. Uncle Jim was a bit of a real-life Marlboro Man, which was a far departure from my dad’s more buttoned-down, stoic nature. Jim and Jason ran the rodeo scene, smoked like trains, drank like sailors and generally set a great example for what I wanted to be when I grew up!
So getting to spend time with him alone was an exciting prospect to me at that moment in time!We meandered along the creek as we worked our way back to my grandma’s house, uncle Jim telling family hunting stories that might as well have been Roosevelt or Hemingway tales to me at the moment. When we reached the spring below the cabin, we stopped to check it out. As my uncle Jim was explaining what the spring was, I noticed this turtle shell nearby and at the time, it was “treasure” and I had to have it. Uncle Jim used water from the spring to clean it out, then handed it to me full of spring water to drink.
Now, you have to understand my mom was an original “helicopter mom”, and a bit of a hypochondriac, so the thought of drinking water from a turtle shell paralyzed me for a moment…
But as I’d be most of my life, I quickly got over the fear and reprisal and went for it in the moment. That water was cold, clear and clean. Satisfying! It was a moment in time where I was connected with not just my immediate ancestors, but those who’d walked that very holler for centuries before. I can still see the vivid green of the moss growing on the rocks around the outlet of the spring. I can see the pale grey skies of the late November morning. I felt as “cool” as that spring water at that moment in time. There I was: carrying a gun in the woods with my rebel uncle, doing rebel things. I'd come of age. That feeling (and vision) is etched into my brain like few other memories.
A few years back, uncle Jim and I were passing the Mason jar back and forth around a campfire at uncle Jason’s and I told him this story. I thanked him for taking the time to do something that seemed small to him at the time, but that it made a lasting impact on me. That morning, and particularly that moment, is when I became a hunter and this keepsake serves as a reminder of that memory…
Haha, second time I read that story today! Worth reading both times, it’s a good one.
I forgot I'd posted that before! LOL Fresh perspective 4 years later in some ways. The older I get, the more that memory (and others of that era) mean to me. It goes to show how impressionable those years are for us.
True that. Part of that same thing we’ve both been working on “roots” “reflecting” kind of thing. I like it! You can tell that story any time you want, it’s a good one and I’m sure the prospective on it will continue to change a little each time.
Bump
Love reading these great stories again! Feel free adding one of your special memories.
Love reading these great stories again! Feel free adding one of your special memories.
Tha is for the random like Ric! That is how I remember deer camp to a T! Lmao