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My most memorable deer hunt was a deer that I took while deer hunting with my 7 year old daughter for the first time. I shot a nice doe right at the end of shooting hours, across a BIG field. The doe ran into the tree line and disappeared. At that point I am concerned that the deer may be hard to find, and or the experience will shock my little girl and turn her off to hunting. Well, she helped me track the doe and she held the flashlight while I dragged it out of the woods. What was funny was her comment after the shot from my .270 WSM in near dark conditions. She said, "Daddy, fire came out of that thing!" We still laugh about it today and I knew at the time that a hunter was born. I am very grateful for that hunt.

I guess my most memorable was my first buck.

I had been so sick I hadn't left the house in three days. I finally felt human again on Sunday so even though it was 15 degrees and spitting snow - bitter cold down here in MS - I decided to go sit in my shoot house overlooking our bean fields. I remember a good friend called while I was hunting to invite me to come eat with the group. She said she'd let me get off the phone because she knew a big one was going to walk out for me. Well, about 5 minutes later he did, I just didn't realize he was big.

I had only been hunting a couple years and had never seen anything but does and spikes in this area. I saw this one step out at the far corner of the field at almost 400yds and I saw antlers. I thought "Great.. now I have to try to figure out if he's big enough to be legal". As he got closer I saw the antlers were outside his ears so I figured he was legal and I ignored the antlers from that point on. I figured he was probably no more than a 6 point but I was just wanting meat anyway. When he got within about 150yds, I hit him with my 300WSM. He ran about 35yds and fell.

I wasn't excited enough about his size to go check him first, instead I walked back to the truck and drove across the field to go load him up. It was only when I got to him that I realized what I had done. I counted 10 points and while making a fist I could put my entire forearm across the inside spread of his rack! Needless to say, he is mounted and hanging on the wall above my gun safe for the world to see.

the buck my wife shot 2 years ago. it was the peak of the rut, bucks were running everywhere. we were going to put a stalk on one we'd seen run into a stand of trees when I spotted this buck peaking around a tree at 110 yards. she leveled her 6x45 mini mauser custom lefthand rifle I had built for her birthday that year. seemed like she aimed forever before pulling the trigger. the buck bolted after the 70 grain NBT entered just above the brisket. we searched for about 5 minutes before we saw hum sprawled behind a juniper, he had only gone 50'. it was the worst drag I've ever had, but I was so proud of her!



best of all I had pics of him in velvet
he had lost 2 tines fighting that week, but it's still him.

I haven't been at this too long, so I am sure that my most memorable deer is still out there, but my most memorable deer so far went down just this last season. An 8 point of decent size.

I had seen him before, fleeting glimpses in the thickest part of my Father-in-Law's 80 acres. I hunted the area during BP season, but never got a shot. Only tracks and scrapes.

Opening morning of rifle season was not exceptionally cold, but I woke to the sound of rain. My wife and I were staying in her parents travel trailer to take advantage of the season. Undaunted, I got dressed and, not wanting to get my first rained on, grabbed my second rifle, a Savage 99 in 300 sav. Once I had enough light to see I headed for the south side of the 80, my FiL went to the North side.

I had intended to stalk the south side. I love hunting in the rain, slowly moving in complete silence, every step masked by the slow rhythm of a fall shower. Still, I thought I might be able to see more if I went and sat in my FiL's tripod situated in the middle of the southern 40, open for 100-200 yards all around, where several trails intersected.

I had not been in stand for long when I heard the first rumble. My shower had turned into a thunder shower. A few minutes later I saw the first flash and started counting, 1, 2, 3, ... 24, 25, and then a low rumble. Five miles away. I thought perhaps the heavier weather would bypass me. I did not want to give up my opening morning hunt in the rain. I waited a few minute, then another flash, brighter than before... 12, 13..BOOM! "Thats not good" I thought. It was moving quick in my direction and I was suddenly feeling very vulnerable in this metal, uncovered tripod in the middle of this field.

Meanwhile, my Father-in-Law had walked in on the North side, probably about the time I decided to hijack his stand, and sat a game trail along the creek. I would learn that he had jumped my buck, who then headed South before he could get a shot. He would later curse me for killing (another) deer out of his stand, but I can live with that.

So after counting in the lightning to about 2 1/2 miles I decided that I didn't want to be in that stand anymore. Besides the lightning, I had been having trouble keeping my rifle down out of the better part of the rain. I took one more look around before I climbed down, and there he was. Somehow he had gotten within 75 yards without being seen. The rain had darkened his hide which blended beautifully with the scrub and grass behind him. I scoped him, checked for antlers, they were there so that was all I needed. He was quartering hard towards me to left, I aimed for his chest and squeezed the trigger, down he went.

I took a moment to catch my breath. The day I don't have to calm down after making a kill will be the day I hang it up. As I sat there looking off into the field I could see him laying in the trail with the tall grass waving on either side. In a heartbeat he MOVED! plowing himself suddenly into the grass to the right of the trail and out of sight. It was at that moment I realized I had pulled the shot. I hit him in the right shoulder, completely missing the vitals, but delivering enough force to knock him unconscious for a few moments and break the shoulder.

It was time to get out of the stand. Aside from the encroaching lightning, I now had a wounded deer on the ground that I needed to take care of. I started towards the last place I had seen him, but he was up before I had gone 20 feet, running hard on three legs. I know many hunters like high power scopes, but this is one reason I am a fan of low fixed power: running game. The rifle pulled up with ease, scope settled over his running form, the shot took him in the neck, dropping him at the next trail over.

By this time, I am fairly soaked. He had been running toward a ring of trees on the crest of a long, sloping hill before the land heads back down into a creek. So I decided to drag him the extra 20 feet under a tall oak for field dressing out of the better part of the rain. I had just set my pack and rifle down and made the first cut, when I heard a sound like an electric razor turning on, then off,..ZZZZZZT, and not a moment later, CRACK, BOOM!! I suddenly felt very uncomfortable underneath this tree on the highest point (not by a lot) in a quarter mile. Nothing to do but drag this deer back out into the rain to finish the job at hand.

Almost on queue, my shower turned into a deluge. Water pouring down my neck and around into my eyes and off my nose as I worked away at his innards. Water pooled on my glasses as I stood bent over, making the matter more difficult. I started feel the slightest bit of annoyance at my situation.

I then had a serendipitous moment. I looked up and around, and saw the beauty in the rain falling on grassy fields and trees all around, and at that moment knew that no matter how I felt or what I did the rain would fall and this deer needed to be gutted and it was my job to do. I then noticed my FiL had come up behind me and was standing under the tree snickering at me. Oh well. I finished it up and we walked back to the house to get the truck and hang my deer before we went to find dry clothing.

The cherry on top of all of this? The crest of that hill is the spot where, the year before, my wife and I had been married. That's mine. Nothing real special, just some things that can't be bought.

First backpacking trip for blacktail with a good friend. We were poorly prepared as far as gear, backpacks did not even have frames. Of course after a few miles in we pop over a ridge and he kills a good blacktail on the far side of a canyon. With no easy way to get it we simply drop into the canyon and promptly jump an even bigger buck which I dropped with a .35 Whelen.

Now we have two deer down at a little after noon and between 90 deg heat and plenty of bear in the area we have to get them both out in one trip. We quartered both and made several trips from the bottom of the canyon to the top ridge where the terrain was much easier to walk on. Took us till almost 5pm to get everything to the top. Once everything was at the top we loaded our packs to max, full camping gear for 3 days and a full load of deer. We began walking out and our gear was not helping at all. We got back to camp about 2am and I could not feel my arms or thighs.

We got everything on ice and crashed out. When I woke up the next day I felt horrid with bruises on both shoulders from the straps. When we got home it took less than a few hours to have some real packs ordered and we vowed to never double up on deer again when that far back. That vow lasted for a whole two years before we stumbled on a good herd of bucks and repeated the process but with far more efficiency getting them out.

I hunted hard in Northern California for almost 20 years and took a total of 4 deer, all mature blacktails and they represent the hardest/best deer hunting I have ever done. Probably 20-30 days in the field between punching tags and I would not change a bit of it.

it's about 4/5ths the size of my ruger 243. it fits her perfectly and she can put them in a silver dollar at 200 yards all day long.
light little gun with a burris compact scope 2-7.
stock was a richards microfit I had to really work on to slim it down and fit the action/barrel.
Mcgowen screwed the barrel on and the bluing work. it's a purty lil gun. the sling was a mothers day gift from the kids.