My daughter (Gracie) is 11 years old, and is just about as awesome as a kid can be. She's helped her brother pack out an animal or two, but had never shot anything more wary than a steel gong. Her practice was paying off though, and her skill finally reached the point that I thought we could ethically engage in a hunt.
Last Friday Gracie, my wife, and myself loaded up and drove to Northern Idaho where the general season is still in effect for white-tails. We only had two days to hunt, but it was an either-sex season and we had decided she would take the very first opportunity at an ethical shot that presented itself. The six-hour drive seemed longer than usual, as the anticipation of what would follow built with each mile traveled. We arrived at our friend's place around midnight, and were quickly off to bed for a 5 am wake-up. Much to my surprise, she sprang out of bed as soon as I touched her shoulder the following morning. We wolfed down a muffin, kissed mama goodbye, and drove up the road to where we intend to hike in.
It was only about a 3/4 mile hike in, but it's pretty steep country and we were good and warm when we arrive in our ground blind. It wasn't much of a blind to speak of, just a tree-well from a fallen Ponderosa with a couple of logs piled around the front to give us a little more cover. It provided a good vantage out to about 250 yards in a 180 degree radius though, in an area I knew held at least a few deer. The first hour was uneventful, with lots of whispered questions on a wide ranging variety of topics that included deer, politics, birds, lions, and boys...that latter of which I instructed her to avoid at all costs for as long as possible.
The following is our view from the blind of the upper portion of the old-logging cut we were sitting on...
About an hour into our hunt, i caught a glimpse of something in the brush down below us. Soon, a doe fully revealed herself to us both as Gracie got behind the gun to take a look. The rangefinder read "235", which was further than the 200 yards we'd practiced out to. She seemed steady and I REALLY wanted her to squeeze the trigger, but she had obvious misgivings about the shot and good sense finally took over as I reached up and flipped the safety back on. The deer walked away from us and that was that. She was pretty upset about not taking the shot afterwards, but I did my best to hide my own disappointment and assure her we'd made the right decision. The rest of the morning was uneventful, and she passed the time by taking some "selfies" with me...
After a quick bite to eat for lunch, we headed back out for another sit. As we hiked down over the hill, she caught sight of something in the grass and picked up a horse-shoe. For reasons only my daughter could fully explain, she was as excited about that as could possibly be imagined. Here she is posing with her found loot....
That evening was a "bust" in the sense that we didn't see a single deer. It was also an exercise in patience for both of us...her to be still/quiet, and me to be patient with her inability to do either with much success. In spite of the difficulty for both of us to accomplish our respective missions, I loved every minute of it. We shared some great laughs, that we largely failed to suppress in our efforts to be quiet. The following morning we were back up at it again and in the blind just before daylight. About two hours into the hunt, I heard the tell-tale sound of a deer behind us that had caught our scent and was getting out of Dodge. We stood up and turned around just in time to see two does bounding away. As we watched, a small buck came running in behind them and locked up the brakes about 5 yards from us. We had a pretty intense stare-down, until he also caught our scent and spun around to depart the area. Surprisingly, he turned 90 degrees and right right up the face of the hill in the first photo. Gracie did a GREAT job of picking him up in the scope as he made his way up the hill, but in spite of my repeated bleats to stop him, he never broke stride. A more experienced hunter could have rolled him as he was only about 75-100 yards away, but it just wasn't a good opportunity for her and we watched broken-hearted as he disappeared into the timber without ever having stopped.
We didn't see another deer all morning, hiked back to the rig with heavy hearts. I was loving my time with my girl, but she desperately wanted a chance at a deer and we were running out of opportunities. We had a quick lunch with mama, and headed back out for what would be our last chance before departing the next morning for the long drive back to Boise.
Dark comes early in north Idaho, and by 3:45 the sun had disappeared from our immediate view down on our side of the hill. We had an hour of daylight left at most, and I was becoming resigned to the idea that it might not happen for us. About then, I glanced up for the 10,000th time and to my utter astonishment, found myself staring at a deer where there had not been one just moments before. As calmly as I could, I whispered to Gracie where it was and to get behind the gun. She picked it up almost immediately, but it was walking directly at us and seemed to be moving with a purpose. She flipped the safety off and I grunted to try and stop him, praying he'd give us a broadside look. He heard me and stopped immediately, but was still facing directly at us. I could hear the clock ticking in my head, as time seemed to slow down in the moment. I asked her if she could see the white patch on the his throat and if she could keep the cross-hairs steady on it. She responded that she had it, and the crosshairs were "still". I said, "Whenever you're ready baby, take the shot". I was laying beside her and felt her exhale just like we'd practiced, a moment before the .243 barked. At the shot, he immediately turned and started downhill at a sprint.
She turned to me with absolutely sorrow in her eyes, and said "Oh no, I missed dad". I had a hunch otherwise though, and told her to turn around and be ready to shoot again. He made it about 20 yards before I saw him start to falter. He side-stepped about twice and began tumbling down the steep hill. She turned back to me and yelled, "I got him Dad. I got my first buck!"...and then quickly burst into tears of happiness.
I say with 100% confidence, that no two happier people existed anywhere in the world in that moment. We fell into each other's arms and enjoyed the greatest hug I am likely to ever have in my life as I quieted her sobs and told her again and again how proud of her I was. When the moment had run it's course, we packed up our stuff and headed down to have a closer look. We couldn't actually see where he was laying, so we started by going to where he was standing so I could show her how to look for sign. She quickly spotted a patch of hair just about where I figured him to be at the shot.
There wasn't a ton of blood, but the ground was sufficiently disturbed that she didn't have much trouble following his course. A short time later, we found him piled up at the base of a small tree. She had made an absolutely perfect show at 150 yards, and taken out his heart completely. We made the decision to drag him downhill a bit further, to an old logging-road where we could get a couple of photos for mama. Here is Gracie with the greatest buck taken anywhere in the world on November 19th, 2017.....
We had shed a fair bit of elevation at that point, and the hike out would be much longer than the hike in......but I can tell you it didn't take as long as i wanted it to. My heart was light, and my step was easy as we climbed out to get the gear necessary for getting him out. It's hard to express how full my heart was that evening, and I made her stop for one last photo so I could remember it all my days. It was just a sunset to most of the world, but it was perfect moment in time for one dad and his little girl. Quite simply, and at the risk of being completely corny,...it was magical.