I went on an opening day deer hunt with my brother, nephew, dad and some family friends. The plan was for my nephew to get his first deer, so he got the prime location. My dad and brother were close by and the others were scattered about. I decided to go off to a pretty remote area down into a valley to an area my granddad used to like to go.
As soon as there was enough daylight the shooting started. It sounded like a war zone – opening day in WV is quite an event. I passed on a doe mainly because I thought our group surely had a few deer hanging by now. When we met for lunch, we were all shocked that nobody had even taken a shot…the noise must have been from the farms on either side. The boy saw a few and said he only could only see the white tail running away – he got restless and was making too much noise.
I headed back into the hollow and got set up for the afternoon/evening movement. Shortly before dusk I saw another doe cruise by and I debated on taking it...fortunately I never got a clean line and she was quickly cruising out of range. My gun was still shouldered when a buck came along following her path. Finally, he showed me his broad side in a little clearing. I got him from about 175 yards and he fell immediately. Cleanest shot I have ever taken.
Just as I finished field dressing, it started to get dark and I realized I left my flashlight in my truck. I struggled to get him out of the hollow and up the ridge through thick cover and darkness – I must have fallen 20 times and got pretty cut up. My dad started down the trail I took and found me, he had a good laugh at my expense. Together we got the deer up to the top of the ridge. When we finally made it to the truck, my brother was there with his doe and I proudly showed off the 8 pointer. My aches and pains quickly went away once the stories started.
The next day we processed the meat and were still telling the same stories, but with more exaggeration. As I was hand cranking the meat through my great-granddads grinder, I began to realize that is why I love to hunt – just being there with my family reminiscing about the good ol days. I hope someday my boy is using that same grinder and telling the same type of stories.
As soon as there was enough daylight the shooting started. It sounded like a war zone – opening day in WV is quite an event. I passed on a doe mainly because I thought our group surely had a few deer hanging by now. When we met for lunch, we were all shocked that nobody had even taken a shot…the noise must have been from the farms on either side. The boy saw a few and said he only could only see the white tail running away – he got restless and was making too much noise.
I headed back into the hollow and got set up for the afternoon/evening movement. Shortly before dusk I saw another doe cruise by and I debated on taking it...fortunately I never got a clean line and she was quickly cruising out of range. My gun was still shouldered when a buck came along following her path. Finally, he showed me his broad side in a little clearing. I got him from about 175 yards and he fell immediately. Cleanest shot I have ever taken.
Just as I finished field dressing, it started to get dark and I realized I left my flashlight in my truck. I struggled to get him out of the hollow and up the ridge through thick cover and darkness – I must have fallen 20 times and got pretty cut up. My dad started down the trail I took and found me, he had a good laugh at my expense. Together we got the deer up to the top of the ridge. When we finally made it to the truck, my brother was there with his doe and I proudly showed off the 8 pointer. My aches and pains quickly went away once the stories started.
The next day we processed the meat and were still telling the same stories, but with more exaggeration. As I was hand cranking the meat through my great-granddads grinder, I began to realize that is why I love to hunt – just being there with my family reminiscing about the good ol days. I hope someday my boy is using that same grinder and telling the same type of stories.
