Home Forums Hunting & Shooting Deer Hunting Do you remember your first deer............

My first deer was at the age of 7 years old,season was only 2 weeks long and buck deer,killing doe back then was like clubing baby seals is how.I had walked behind my house and sat down under a tree that over looked an open field,I put some dead limbs up as a blind and took my Indian Buck Lure and put it out.The sun was coming up and I could not wait,I just knew I was going to kill a big buck,back then people would hunt all season and never see one,deer were not as populated like they are how.About 8 am I heard something in the woods behind me making a lot of nosie in the dry leaves,I turned to see a deer busting into the opening about 20 yards to the left of me,he ran about 40 yards and stoped.Oh my god it was a buck and he was standing at 40 yards,I raised my 94 Win 30-30 and puled back the hammer.The iron sights leveled behind his shoulder and I pulled the trigger.I have been hooked from that moment on when it come to deer hunting.I was 12 when I killed my first deer,I sure I could of killed this on,but I was 7 and mom would not let me take any ammo.
But it was the greatest hunt of my life............

OO Buck at 38 steps out of a single shot Handi 12 gauge full choke...

Boom, flop...

It was misting so hard I thought I shot a doe.

Turned out it was a 3 pt nubber...

We were in a ground blind as well soaking wet...

16 years old - shot it with a browning A-5 at 20 paces.

Clean heart shot, jumped straight up in the air about 2 feet scared the crap out of me. Had buck fever pretty bad.

Spot

Many moons ago, 12 ga slug at 20 yards,doe dropped in a small creek and the water began to flow red...

3 degrees out, inch of ice or more. I just had to.... Dad wasnt' happy but a doe came out the morning we were leaving.... IIRC I was 3rd grade. Nothing to the shot. Was plenty cold for us in TX and cleaning etc....

Remember having to pour hot water on the car to get a door open and all 3 of us used the same door. Long drive home....

What a deer though. Could not have been happier.

Jeff

7:05 opening morning 13 years old and already cold! bucks only
my first trip to the big woods, heard shooting right below me
I was pissed! that guy shot my deer!it had to be coming right to me.5min later hey look a deer BUCK! 303 savage shoot till he's down ok he's down better call Pop, blow the whistle Pop comes
running thought his hunt was spoiled cause he never thought I would get one! nice 6pt seems like yesterday

I was hunting with my Dad and my older brother. I still have the antlers.

I was 13, my Dad was making a loop around me trying to push deer to me. I saw one coming through the brush but couldn't get a shot at it until was almost out of sight. I only had a high shoulder shot. It went right down, then gave out a big bawl. I honestly didn't know it was the deer that made the noise. My Dad was on the ridge directly above/behind me and watched me shoot it. Rifle was a Remington 760 Gamemaster in 243WIN. I still have it too. My 8 year old has "claimed" it though.

RH

I was 12, sitting in the perennial deer killing stand, when a 5 point buck walked out. I had a .30-30 Marlin with iron sites. I took my time and put the bead right on the kill zone and pulled the trigger. He took a big hop and ran about 40 yards and fell down at the edge of the woods.

My dad came out from his stand at the bottom of the hill and he admired my kill then said, son- now the fun starts. He showed me how to field dress my first deer. Even then, I took my time and admired the damage the 170g bullet did to the heart and lungs of that whitetail. I have loved terminal ballistics ever since.

We still have/use that Marlin.

Sure, was easing thru the woods and a small spike stood up,facing me at perhaps 70 yds. Shot offhand and drilled him in the neck and he dropped like a sack of taters. Was using my first ever centerfire rifle, a Rem 700 BDL Wood/Blue 7mm Rem Mag and Federal Factory loads, 160gr Sierra BTSP's. Found the bullet at the rear of his right ham resting against the hide. It had streched the hide but didn't exit. Was so excited that I got my little Datsun truck stuck as I was trying to get it close, to pick it up. Had to borrow my father-in-law's Massey-Ferguson tractor to pull out my Datsun and first deer...:)

I was 12 hunting with Dad, Uncle Elmer and Aunt Lily. My first deer season.

Big old 99R .300 Savage with a tang sight. I was already loading for it at Foster Sporting Goods. Buy the bullets, primer and powder and they let you use their press and dies. I shot it a lot. I could actually hit a nighthawk with it.

Out of the jeep on line in the early morning fog. I missed the first deer I saw, a doe. I hit the downed log it was standing behind. I was pretty sure that was it for the season for me.

We continued down the ridge until we hit the breaks. Then we fell down off the sidehill to a skid road to come back up and out.

Almost out and Dad was talking up a storm like always. He asks if I think we will see any more deer and I said I didn't think so. About then he says "there's one" as we come around a curve.

Hit right behind the liver and he laid down against the sidehill. The inertia started to roll him back up so I shot again.

Uncle Elmer showed me how to gut it and told me to pay attention because this was the last time anyone would do it for me. Hewas right. I had to gut the doe I got that evening.

Extra nice four by four. The boned out meat weighed 130#.

Mom threw away the antlers while I was in the Marines.

I remember the exact day, November 7th 1987. I was 18. My dad and I were members of a dog club and even though we had been members for a couple years, I had never gotten a shot. I don't think I had ever even seen a buck in that club before that day. On the first drive of the morning we went way back into the swamp and I was dropped off in a beautiful spot, nice open woods. I set up my dove stool and sat down for the long wait. The other standers couldn't have been gone for more than 5 min when I heard leaves crunching to my left. I turned and there was a beautiful 8 point strolling straight towards me maybe 50 yards away without a care in the world. I was dumbfounded, the dogs hadn't been let out yet and I doubt if the next stander had even been dropped off yet. I tried to slowly raise my shotgun and pivot towards the buck but he either saw me, heard me or smelled me. Without warning he spun around, blew and hauled ass back where he came from. That was that. I was sick. I didn't see another deer during the morning drive.When the drive ended the other hunters razzed me to no end when they heard my story.
For the 2nd drive we again went way back into the woods on another tract of land. I was dropped off in a spot so thick I couldn't see 20 yards. I heard several shots during that drive and right towards the end, a deer came bounding by me. I thought I saw spikes but it was moving so fast and it was so thick I couldn't swear to it. There were no does shot in this club at that time so I just held my fire. Within a few seconds two shots rang out just down the line. After the drive was over, it was clear that the next stander had clearly seen the spikes and killed him. I was REALLY bummed now! The only 2 bucks I had had opportunities at and I blew it both times.
Normally that would have been the end of it for the day. Very rarely was there enough time left in the day for a 3rd drive. We got back to the club shed a little earlier than usual and there was about an hour of daylight left. Somebody suggested going down the road a little bit past the skinning shed and turning the dogs loose to see what would happen. I really wasn't interested. I was tired and frustrated and I really didn't see us getting any action that close to the club shed where so much activity went on. My dad said "Come on, we might as well go with them. Big boy might be hiding back there." I gave in and we strolled down the road, maybe 200 yards past the shed. As we walked, Dad said a verbal prayer. He said "Lord, please let Mark kill a big one so he can redeem himself and get those other fellows off his back." He laughed and I just grinned. We stepped into the woods maybe 40 yards off the road and stood by a creek. We didn't even carry our stools and I had only the 5 shells in my gun whereas normally I would have a pocket full of shells and a 9mm S&W 659 strapped on my side. They turned the dogs loose and they didn't seem to be too hot on any trails for the first 30 min. Dad and I just stood there talking about my 2 previous encounters. All of a sudden the dogs got pretty excited and it sounded like they had jumped something. A minute or two later 5 shots rang out less than 100 yards away from us deeper into the swamp. Then 2 or 3 more shots a little closer. The dogs were going insane. Dad said "You stay here and I'll go down the creek aways and maybe one of us will get a shot." A few minutes later I heard crashing in the creek and Dad yelled out "He's coming to you get ready!" Within seconds a big buck jumped out of the thick stuff along the creek and nearly ran me over! At a range of feet rather than yards I threw my Benelli 121 SL 80 up and popped off 3 shots as fast as I could jerk the trigger before he was swallowed by the thick stuff. In my youth, I thought it a neat idea to load my gun with a load of #4 buckshot for the first shot followed by a load of #1 buck, then a #0 buck for the 3rd shot, a #00 for the 4th and a #000 for the final shot. The deer hadn't even flinched to my first 3 shots so I didn't know what to expect as I plowed into the thick brush. I went maybe 40 yards until I came out into a little open area and there was the buck standing about 25 yards away staggering and lunging to try to stay on his feet. I threw the Benelli up and let go my last 2 shots. The buck went down but was so adrenalized he was still trying to get back up. I was now without ammo and my 9mm that I had religiously carried for a coup de grace was back in the truck. I yelled out to my Dad, "Dad! Come here! I got him but I'm out of shells and he's still alive!" A few seonds later the buck gave up the ghost and my Dad came to where I was. He slapped me on the back and said "Always remember, the Lord DOES answer prayers!" My Dad was a minister so maybe his prayers carried a little extra weight that day! The buck was above and beyond anything I had hoped for for my first deer. I'd have been thrilled with a doe or spike but my first was a hefty 10 point, 6 on one side, 4 on the other. The side with 6 points had a prominate palmation like a moose or fallow antler and would qualify as non-typical. The spread was a little over 16 1/2" and he weighed 165 pounds which is considered pretty big around here. Turns out he was one of the best bucks killed that entire season. As we grabbed the antlers and started dragging him towards the road, the dogs caught up to us and were all over the deer. Then 2 of the drivers came on and got control of the dogs. They were thrilled that I had killed the deer and one of them said, "That 5 shots you heard, that was ME!" This big boy jumped up out of a thicket up in front of me about 60 yards and I unloaded my gun. He was running so fast I knew I was just spraying and praying but I could tell he was a 'hoss! That next stander shot at him too but neither one of us cut a hair!" When we got the buck back to the shed, they gave me the ceremonial bloody face and nuts around the neck and everybody was thrilled that I had finally made it right after letting the first two get away earlier in the day. Mt Dad was as happy or happier than I was and he said "God let those other 2 get by you so this one would mean so much more to you." He got the buck mounted for me and it resides on the wall with many other nice bucks that I've killed through the years but none mean more to me. Partly because he was my first, partly because he was such a nice one but mostly because my Dad was there with me to enjoy it.
My Dad is in Heaven now. I lost him to an unknown of heart aneurysm in '04 and I miss him so much. He was my Dad, my preacher, my best friend in the world. I have water in my eyes as I type this and think about the smile on his face when I killed that buck. This post has given me a chance to relive that day, the first time I have thought about it in such detail since Dad left this world. Thanx for giving me the chance to relive that day.

I remember I lost my voice from telling the story. It was the 5th day of muzzleloader season, 25 yard shot, T/C Hawkens 50 cal, 370gr maxi ball, 90grs of black powder. 120lb doe and she went 20yrds and dropped. My wife said she was my lucky charm. Never had the nerve to tell her that the Hawkens was my lucky charm. I've lost my voice again. Good thing I'm typing. Ken

Yep, 14 years old (21 years ago), killed him on the second to last evening of the season, after school. The shot was about 250 yards, and I didn't connect until the third shot, after I got him running. Used a M99 in .243 Win.

Sorry for the great "field" photo.

Nobody in my household hunted so I started deer hunting on my own (without a clue) at the age of 18. I had a chance to kill a 5 point buck that first Fall but I jumped the gun and shot too soon. The deer ran over the hill and another man killed it. I was sick for a whole year over that little 5 point, so the next year I was huntimg in the same general area and managed to kill a little 3 point, Boy I was proud of that little whitetail. I then became friends with two of the best deer hunters in my area, they really got me pointed in the right direction and taught me alot, Since those many years ago Ive built a reputation in my area as a deer hunting fanatic. Im sure in some circles Im pitied and felt sorry for, as I should be for I am a sick man...................547.

i was 15 and hunting in north mo. using my old win 94 rifle opening morning of deer season i was setting on a ridge over looking a small creek bottom. i hunter on the neighboring property shot once and scared the chit out of me. about 2 minutes later i looked over my shoulder and there stood the biggest deer i ever saw. i slowly got my gun up and fired, and fire and fired. the deer rolled down the ditch dead. i ran the 30 yards between us and wrapped my hands around that button buck's tiny legs. hit him all three times. i started yelling for my dad. he came running over thinking i shot myself.

In my 10th year of deer hunting at the age of 21 I took my first deer-a spike buck shot in the second week of Pa.'s buck season. It was to be a bittersweet memory, as my best hunting partner, my father, died the following spring. At least I did right by him on this one. I have no doubt that the Big Guy upstairs wanted us to share this moment. Dad was really proud of me.

Oh yeah, Way back then there were very few deer in our country. I had hunted for three years and all I saw was tracks. Second morning of the season that I was fifteen years old I was squated on a tree limb watching a natural opening in the woods. Only bucks were legal and forked horn bucks to boot.

Hunting with a M98 mauser that an unk had brought back from WWII and given to Dad. Stock was bobbed off but other than that nothing had been done to it.

Out into the opening stepped a little fork-horn. The right antler had been broken off but sure enough there was a forked horn.

Maybe seventy-five yards. I leveled down behind his shoulder and cranked one off.

Remember, I said I was squating on a tree limb. Me and the deer must have hit the ground at about the same time. I got up he didn't.

BCR

Sure I remember, who dosn't ?
Mine was in the mid 70's when I was 14. Got to hunt with my dad and his friends at their camp. They placed me behind a stone wall looking at a brook and side hill and told me to wait and don't move until someone gets me. Man was it cold. Probably an hour in, seemed like six, an 8 ptr. came walking down the side hill. I waited till he crossed the brook and I fired once. Got him. I have the rack in my living room and still have the shotgun too. J.C. Higgins 12ga. bolt action goose gun. Almost as long as I was tall. Shot my first 6 or 7 deer with it too.
Shooting an 8ptr. first time out I thought , what's so hard about this stuff? Little did I know.

Got my first when I was 9. Dad, my uncle, and my cousin went out deer hunting and I told dad I wanted to squirrel hunt. So he took me to a spot by my Great Grandmas house that I was familar with and he went on and got in his deer stand. Around dark I started walking up the trail back to the camp when a doe and yearling doe almost bumped into me as I walked past the deer trail entering the path. I raised the Stevens side by side 20 ga and fired both barrels. The little yearling doe only made it about 20 yards. I was tickled pink and hooked from then on. I've killed over 100 whitetails ever since and still get the fever every time.

Reloader7RM