Your first one - Tell us the story of your first deer!!

[bigcountry]

Well my first kill came to my when iw as 14 yrs old back in 2003..i still remember it like yesterday. It was tuesday nov. 19th, 2003.. I just woke up and realized i had over slept and was late for school. Went into my moms bedroom cuz i was gonna have her run me into town but when i opened the door she was sleeping, so i thought to myself " eh, ill just sneak out back...shell never know..hehehehe" well i hurried up but quietly got my bibs and jacket on and waited till got outside to put my boots on and as i walked out the door i grabbed my grandpas Remington 870 wingmaster and quietly shut the door. I started walkign down the 2 tracks to get to the woods and i looked down at my watch it was only 8:45.." OO yea perfect time to catch something sneaking from corn to our woods"..as i approach the woods on the edge of corn field.. i see these 3 does just 30 yrds into the woods right on path to enterance.. so i wait about 10 minutes and they didnt move a ft. Well there was a steady drizzle coming down and with the leaves being wet i figured i could get closer without them knowing.. so i did..i managed to get within 25yrds..so i pull up the ol 870 look down the scope picked the biggest one i seen that was broadside..and i dont even remember pulling, squeezing, or touching the trigger..the shot went off and it seems like i shot a million miles away everything froze..until i relaized what had happened...i just shot my first deer..:)..but when she took off i seen her drop in the tall weeds we had in front of woods...so im thnkin all right this one is in the freezer..take 3 steps and she jumps back up and runs..by this time im thinkin there is NO WAY i missed so i bleat and she slowed a lil bit and was broadside long enough for me to squeeze one off...and she dropped right there...take about 20 yrds up to her and she jumps up and runs another 40 yrds...( she is just running in a circle really) and i stalk up to where i last her and there she is around 40 yrds broadside and she looks like she is goin down so i pumped another one in her to make sure it was FOR SURE...well that was her last step..i was soo happy..i know it was unethical to shoot her that many time but i knew i hit her good the first shot and i was young.. well when i went up to her i looked down and ill be darned.. 3 round right in the lungs...so now i have to figure a story to tell mom why i didnt go to school..hahaha yea right..so i head up to the house just thinkin of stories to tell her..i mean everything was goin through my head..well everyone else skipped school...is was middel scholl skip day..ya cant just tell a boy he cant hunt...and the one i actually used was What would grandpa have done..think about that mom"..lol..but it was my first kill and it was during gun season up in southwest michigan...god i miss that place..lol

[Hos230]

My first was back in 1990, during gun season, and I was 14 years old. I was hunting with my uncle on the land of a cabin my family used to own in Fairfield County (I'm originally from Columbus). It was snowing....HARD. The day before, I had developed a case of Buck Fever, and completely missed a roughly 10 foot shot at a nice 8 pt that wandered just behind me, on the other side of a tree that I was sitting at the base of. Suitably embarassed, I set myself up the next day on the tree line on the other side of the field from that failure. I had been sitting at the base of another tree for probably 5-6 hours, and was surrounded by about a foot worth of drifted snow, when I heard movement on the other side of a slight mound in front of me. I watched a little spike buck work it's way toward me, and stop dead about 20 yards directly in front of me. It stood there, facing me, staring at me for what seemed like forever, but was most likely more like 10-20 seconds. I was hoping he would turn broadside, but I got antsy, lined up dead on the white of his chest, and let my 16g Winchester rip. The little spike turned and ran. At first, I thought I missed again, but as he tried to jump a fallen limb, he missed and crumbled, not 10 yards from where I hit him. I vividly remember saying "well, son of a ..." We quickly recovered him, an I was properly instructed on how to field dress a deer. Strangely, or maybe not so much, I still, to this day, think more about that 8 pt that I missed than the spike I hit. Sure, I've killed bigger bucks since, but I WANTED that 8 pt.