Years ago it all started.

With one of the crappiest last ditch effort shots I've pulled off yet to this day. A 13 yr old pip squeak kid with a 20 ga pump gun that was almost as long as I was tall, and a buck racing across a cut corn field from one woods block to another, directly broadside to me around 100 yds away. I don't remember exactly how fast he was running when I first spotted him, but after 2 shots he had it in full turbo mode. I have no idea if my first 2 shots were over him, under him, in front of him, or behind him. Right before he reached the edge of the woods I gave it one last try and the 20 ga pumpkin ball slug caught him just behind the ear at the top of his neck. His rack dropped into the dirt and he did an end over end somersault. Michael Jordan sinking a 3 pointer with 2 seconds left on the clock to win the deciding game in a championship couldn't of felt anymore excited or exhilarated as I felt when that buck flipped. I couldn't get to him fast enough.

Probably couldn't pull that shot off today with that same gun if I had 30 try's. Funny how that works out sometimes.

Great memory! Very similar to my first buck about that same age. Mine was in turbo mode also because there was eight running walkers hot on his tail lol. I threw a Hail Mary shot as he was getting to the wood line and he just summer salted. Bullet went in the back of his head and cane out between his ear and eye on opposite side. I could probably never duplicate that shot again!


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I don't know the era involved but my first Mule Deer, was under very similar circumstances, in 58 or 59. I had already missed a couple of bucks that weekend and we were on our way home. Dad saw some tracks crossing the road and we took a short circle through the lodge pole. I heard them coming, thru my rifle up and the buck magically seemed to stand still in the air between two trees. Needless to say I was jacked, I told dad he was huge and I had hit him dead center. Well when we picked up his blood trail and started to follow him through the timber. After just a few yards dad stopped and said to me "it looks like you got him" . The deer had run square into a tree, and careened off thru the woods. He was a grand buck, 6 points on on side 5 on the other with a 25 inch spread. I can still see him in the scope floating in the air.

Its true no matter how many you kill that very first one always stays the most vivid.


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No question, like it was yesterday. Ok, maybe last week. But I can still walk you to the spot 50 years later.


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Thanks for sharing those memories. I noticed the pair of felt pac boots in the pic. I have a pair just like them from long ago. Although I've moved onto a more modern hunting boot today those felt pacs were the best you could buy at that time.

Don

Awesome story and pictures, congratulations.

JD338

Great story, and yes, an even better shot!

I was five or six the first time he took me moose hunting somewhere near Circle Alaska. I remember popping grouse with a little Stevens rolling block .22
Gave me an 03-A3 when I was 12, was with me when I killed my first buck and rag horn Bull that year, less then an hour from where I now live.
He retired as the Director of the EPAs Marine and Fresh Water Ecology Division. Hell he wrote the Clean Water Act.
He taught us you can hunt and be an environmentalist. You can log and cherish wilderness.
10 years ago he played shortstop on a city league softball team, the only member who hadn't played in the majors.
Alzimmers has ravaged his brain and body, he was asking his great granddaughter if she wanted to go fishing today.
He is how I got started...
Merry Christmas everyone.


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Awesome stories folks. I do love remembering my first buck, but more importantly my sons and daughters. Those danged deer mean more to me than any bull I’ve ever taken and I don’t take any Elk lightly.

Shadetree, you could virtually interchange yourself in my story. I skipped school the Monday before Thankgiving to hunt. I was 15, it was a cut corn field next to what we called "the berry patch" and it's still there today. I was using my Dad's 870 20 gauge with a vent rib and bead sight shooting a slug. A couple of shots as it came out of a creek bottom, then it turned 90 degrees and was running away. I can still picture the shot, thinking I've got one chance left. I held high, pulled the trigger and watched the buck drop. I hit it in the neck. I was shaking so bad some of the older guys had to gut it for me.

We paced it off later and figured it to be 110 yards.

I tried to tell the Principal I was sick, but he said "Jimmy, I drive past your house everyday and I saw your buck in the oak tree". My basketball coach made me run stairs the entire practice but it was worth it.

Those are great stories. I wish I had photos of my first deer, but I don't think cameras had been invented yet. My dad was not into photography and hated anyone taking his picture. Not many pictures of hunting in my youth. I do enjoy seeing everyones pictures from decades ago. Thank you for sharing.

What a great post :wink:. I too remember my first buck it was all of 50 years ago :shock:. It was opening day & I was shooting a 336C in a 30-30. I had already missed at least 2 decent bucks & we were stopped near a dugout in a deserted farmyard eating lunch when a 4X4 stood up about 60 yards away from us & was staring at us I picked up my rifle shot & hit him just behind the left front shoulder he then walked about 10 yards & fell over .
I have a head mount of him at the farm :wink:.

Blessings,
Dan

Shade Tree, great thread and congratulations. What a great story.

Several great stories and memories, enjoyed reading all of them.

It is amazing how time flies when your having fun LOL

My father had already taken me fishing, bird and rabbit hunting and even turkey hunting ( back then turkeys were not consider large animals ). My mother said if you see that deer that has been terrorizing my garden, shoot it. I was milking in the early a.m.when I saw it and the 30/30 was in the barn and loaded ( not in the gun safe--actually we didn't have a gun safe ).

I got him with one shot as my father had already spent hours with me shooting tin cans ( we didn't have a range or printed targets ). This was in the late------40's!

Spending the money for a mount was not going to happen and I am sure I didn't even suggest it. I do remember dad hearing the shot and yelling to me "good shot, finishing the milking and then we will get the tractor and bring him to the barn" I dont think anyone even thought about taking a picture, dad said, good shot, mom said, thank you and we went on with our daily chores. Sorry we didn't take a picture because I was really a cute kid LOL

That is funny. The 1940's , no gun safe, there is a deer in the garden, so you stop milking, shoot it, and then continue milking and I spend hours and somedays days looking for one to shoot.

Reading posts from you and Earle, Salmonchaer, Dr Mike and others always brings a smile and a little bit of jealousy as well.

Enjoyed the thread and your story shade tree

Great stories, thanks for sharing.

Some good stories. Lefty that's a dandy first buck. Europe, I'm not from your era but your story reminds me how much things have changed even in my lifetime. Every boy I knew that was driving age road around with a gun in the window rack of the truck. Every adult done the same during the fall. Shotguns in small game season, rifles in deer season. You seen a deer you wanted to shoot, you shot it, you didn't ask or wonder who's ground it was on. We were all neighbors and wild game was for everybody.

BTT- Still looking for the photos...... CL

cloverleaf":gka5nrbh said:

BTT- Still looking for the photos...... CL

Click to expand...

Found em' .... So below you'll see my first deer. West river SD probably about 1980.

This little white tail was standing in the edge of a cornfield about sundown. The borrowed 25-06 (see .25 cal already ) slid up to my shoulder and the fancy Herters scope with multiple "range finding" circles seemed waiver over the bucks neck. After the fireball, the buck took two jumps into the corn and was gone.... My uncle looked at me and said, "I cant believe you missed...!" I couldn't either, but what did I know? The assumption was made that I had missed, the details were related to my Dad when he arrived, I remember that the guys looked in the dark for a bit and then because we had to get back, we left for the weekend.
That year the remainder of the season was the following weekend...or maybe that's just when Dad could get off from work again, cant remember.... Anyway, the following week we were hunting on the ranch again and the ranchers hired man stopped and asked, "Did one of you guys shoot a little whitetail?" Of course I piped up "I did"! He says, "well I found it, just ran it over with the combine..." So we hikes it over to the field and sure enough, there lays my little buck, with a bullet hole through the edge of the jugular. Looked like he laid down and bled out within 25 yards.
Of course my Dad and uncle felt just terrible. The deer was gutted and my tag punched and the deer transported home. The guys spent an hour looking for the part of the rack that the combine broke off and found most of it. The deer by the way did not go to waste. That winter our German shorthairs were sleek and fat from the venison supplement added to their diet. The mounted rack hangs on my wall.



As far as how long ago it all started, the pic below is of a "little butterball" on my Grandpa's lap. As you can see "we" were holding a "rifle". In a few years Grandpa was helping me hold up an old red rider and teaching me how to shoot soap boxes. If you don't know what a soap box is.... you are too young.... Lucky you...CL

No matter the circumstances, that first one is always full of excitement and forever cherished in our memories..I really enjoy reading these type threads and looking at the "old" pictures..From cotton long-Johns and wool pants and coats to todays super high tech layering clothing..How did we do it? LOL...My first was 1980-81 and my oldest brother took me..It was cold, well cold for us anyway, about 20* and mom said I better take something to sit on to keep my butt off the cold ground...I untied one of the seat cushions from a dining room chair to use. I later found out, the hard way, that wasn't exactly what she had in mind...My brother dropped me off under a big poplar tree and said just sit and wait...He hadn't much got out of site when I heard something coming from behind..It was a smallish 8 point buck at a steady trot. Not in a hurry, but he certainly had somewhere he wanted to be..In the excitement I jumped up, whirled around with the old 38-55 my dad let me use and naturally the buck saw me..He stopped dead in his tracks for just long enough for me to pull off a rushed shot at about 40 yards with the iron sights..Although, as I think I mentioned in a thread a while back, the front site on the gun was broke off many years before and it had a dime that was cut in half soldered to the barrel for the front blade sight...Anyway at the shot the buck bolted, and I was certain that I missed..Until I heard my brother holler to come to him...The buck ran right by him and pilled up dead about 80 yards from where I shot.From the time he dropped me off under the poplar tree until I was standing over my first buck was all of 10 minutes....I would love to have the picture back, sadly it was destroyed when mom's basement flooded.