Post by mrode363 on Feb 6, 2016 1:36:14 GMT
First off, I would like to apologize for not posting a blog for so long. I had my MacBook Pro go down with a hard drive problem. It got shipped all the way to California before finally returning back to me this last weekend. So, after a long, long wait… The Sportsman Hunt is back!!!
To rewind and help you recall, my deer season began with a bang when my father harvested a monster 8-point buck on opening morning. Our Sunday was relatively uneventful and I returned to school for the week wondering if I would get another crack at harvesting a deer. My hope began to fade as the week progressed, as I came down with a brutal cold that threatened the remainder of the 9-day Wisconsin deer hunting season. Friday night was upon us, and I still did not feel well enough to go out the next morning. My father and I talked over what to do and I finally talked him into going out the following morning for a few hours. I decided to crawl into bed and try and “sleep” the sickness out of me.
I awoke Saturday morning, still with the same cold that had haunted me all week. I kept my word and got myself prepared for the cold Wisconsin weather that was ready to torture me all day. We got dressed and headed off on our hunting adventure.
As we reached our destination, we had to make some adjustments as the weather was even worse than we originally thought. Not only was it cold, but the wind had picked up and was whipping around at nearly 20 miles per hour. Instead of sitting on my dad’s deer stand, we decided to sit at the base of the hill to keep ourselves shielded from the wind. We decided to park the “hunting truck” (aka, the Toyota Corolla) about 100 yards from where we sat as we didn’t expect much to happen that day. My dad sat right next to me and we began to play the waiting game.
Hours passed as the wind whipped around. Not much was happening and my dad could see the disappointment starting to show on my face. He began to joke around with me, trying to make it seem as if deer were heading our way. Snapping twigs and quietly whispering “Deer, deer, deer” could not even brighten my mood. I began to think that my first deer season would end without my first ever deer. I did not get much time to dwell on the thought though because it was about to be squashed in a matter of seconds.
As my dad and I stood up to stretch our legs, my dad whispered to me, “Deer, deer, deer”. Once again, I just tried to ignore him and didn’t even glance up to look around. But then my dad nudged me and said, “Deer. Coming right at us”. This time I glanced up and caught a movement off to our left. He really wasn’t kidding this time, a deer really was walking right at us! I carefully reached down to pick up my gun and managed to break a fairly large branch on the way back up. I stopped what I was doing and looked up, expecting the deer to be running away at full speed, giving me the white flag (white tail in the air). To my surprise, the deer had not broken stride and was on a speed-walk towards our “hunting truck”. This is where life seem to play in slow motion.
I slowly raised the gun and took aim at my potential first deer. I tried to calm myself, but my heart kept pumping faster and faster with each step the deer took. My dad gave me the go-ahead to take the shot when I was ready. I hardly wasted a second before squeezing the trigger. I could almost see the slug fly out of my gun as it travelled across the small valley. The “long” 15 yard shot was a perfect shot and the deer was down in a heartbeat. (My dad later told me that he could see the heart fly out the other side of the deer… Kind of cool and gross at the same time) In a matter of seconds and before I could realize what was happening, I had successfully harvested my first ever deer.
I clicked the safety back on and set my shotgun on the ground next to me. I turned to my father and before I knew it, I had given him a high-five and a bear hug. To this day, I don’t know who was more excited over my first harvest… my dad, the observer… or myself, the hunter…. Maybe that is a question I don’t mind knowing the answer to, but can you guess why? For as many years as I hunt in my life, I will always remember what happened on that Saturday morning. I will remember it as my first successful harvest, but more importantly, I will remember the look on my dad’s face. The look in his eyes that said it all. The look that said “I taught you well”. The look that said “I passed a tradition onto you”. The look that said “I am so proud of you”.
As my dad and I walked up to my first ever deer, the moment became even more surprising in noticing that the deer was a nub. I looked to my dad and was ready for a look of disappointment, but instead got a look of relief and joy. He didn’t care what kind of deer I harvested. All that mattered to him was that he got to spend that moment with me.
This is truly one of the most memorable days of my life and one that I will never forget for as long as I live. Not only did I get to harvest my first ever deer, I got to spend and share that moment with the person who taught me how to hunt, my father. My first ever deer season saw no more shots fired between my father and I, but that was okay by our standards. We had each harvested a buck, even though mine didn’t have the horns and was about 150 or so pounds lighter than his, and had each got to witness the other’s harvest. I could not have asked for a more memorable rookie deer season!
The short 9-day deer hunting season was over, but the memories are here to stay. During those few days, I got to witness a harvest of an absolute monster buck, harvest my first ever deer, and spend time with my father who taught me all I know about hunting. In his teaching, my father tried to accomplish two different things. One concept was to teach me how to become a patient hunter and how to successfully harvest an animal. That concept was one that was fulfilled within my first few days hunting. The other concept he tried to instill in me was passing on the tradition of hunting that was so prevalent in his life. From a young age, he knew he would have a hunter for a son. Before too long, he also realized that I too would one day pass the same tradition on. Little did he and I know that I would pass the tradition on at such a young age. The hunting tradition that I learned from my father will be passed on this upcoming deer season as I take my girlfriend, Ashley Duffeck, out into the frigid November weather. I now have the honor of teaching Ashley what I have learned from my father. Wish me luck!!!
So there you have it, my first deer season in two blog posts. I will continue on with more hunting stories as time passes and I am bored here at school. Hopefully, I will have some new stories to share with you from this deer season! Good luck to all of you hunters out there this deer season. Be safe and have a good time!
Until we meet again, I wish you luck on your deer season and the hunt to find yourself.
To rewind and help you recall, my deer season began with a bang when my father harvested a monster 8-point buck on opening morning. Our Sunday was relatively uneventful and I returned to school for the week wondering if I would get another crack at harvesting a deer. My hope began to fade as the week progressed, as I came down with a brutal cold that threatened the remainder of the 9-day Wisconsin deer hunting season. Friday night was upon us, and I still did not feel well enough to go out the next morning. My father and I talked over what to do and I finally talked him into going out the following morning for a few hours. I decided to crawl into bed and try and “sleep” the sickness out of me.
I awoke Saturday morning, still with the same cold that had haunted me all week. I kept my word and got myself prepared for the cold Wisconsin weather that was ready to torture me all day. We got dressed and headed off on our hunting adventure.
As we reached our destination, we had to make some adjustments as the weather was even worse than we originally thought. Not only was it cold, but the wind had picked up and was whipping around at nearly 20 miles per hour. Instead of sitting on my dad’s deer stand, we decided to sit at the base of the hill to keep ourselves shielded from the wind. We decided to park the “hunting truck” (aka, the Toyota Corolla) about 100 yards from where we sat as we didn’t expect much to happen that day. My dad sat right next to me and we began to play the waiting game.
Hours passed as the wind whipped around. Not much was happening and my dad could see the disappointment starting to show on my face. He began to joke around with me, trying to make it seem as if deer were heading our way. Snapping twigs and quietly whispering “Deer, deer, deer” could not even brighten my mood. I began to think that my first deer season would end without my first ever deer. I did not get much time to dwell on the thought though because it was about to be squashed in a matter of seconds.
As my dad and I stood up to stretch our legs, my dad whispered to me, “Deer, deer, deer”. Once again, I just tried to ignore him and didn’t even glance up to look around. But then my dad nudged me and said, “Deer. Coming right at us”. This time I glanced up and caught a movement off to our left. He really wasn’t kidding this time, a deer really was walking right at us! I carefully reached down to pick up my gun and managed to break a fairly large branch on the way back up. I stopped what I was doing and looked up, expecting the deer to be running away at full speed, giving me the white flag (white tail in the air). To my surprise, the deer had not broken stride and was on a speed-walk towards our “hunting truck”. This is where life seem to play in slow motion.
I slowly raised the gun and took aim at my potential first deer. I tried to calm myself, but my heart kept pumping faster and faster with each step the deer took. My dad gave me the go-ahead to take the shot when I was ready. I hardly wasted a second before squeezing the trigger. I could almost see the slug fly out of my gun as it travelled across the small valley. The “long” 15 yard shot was a perfect shot and the deer was down in a heartbeat. (My dad later told me that he could see the heart fly out the other side of the deer… Kind of cool and gross at the same time) In a matter of seconds and before I could realize what was happening, I had successfully harvested my first ever deer.
I clicked the safety back on and set my shotgun on the ground next to me. I turned to my father and before I knew it, I had given him a high-five and a bear hug. To this day, I don’t know who was more excited over my first harvest… my dad, the observer… or myself, the hunter…. Maybe that is a question I don’t mind knowing the answer to, but can you guess why? For as many years as I hunt in my life, I will always remember what happened on that Saturday morning. I will remember it as my first successful harvest, but more importantly, I will remember the look on my dad’s face. The look in his eyes that said it all. The look that said “I taught you well”. The look that said “I passed a tradition onto you”. The look that said “I am so proud of you”.
As my dad and I walked up to my first ever deer, the moment became even more surprising in noticing that the deer was a nub. I looked to my dad and was ready for a look of disappointment, but instead got a look of relief and joy. He didn’t care what kind of deer I harvested. All that mattered to him was that he got to spend that moment with me.
This is truly one of the most memorable days of my life and one that I will never forget for as long as I live. Not only did I get to harvest my first ever deer, I got to spend and share that moment with the person who taught me how to hunt, my father. My first ever deer season saw no more shots fired between my father and I, but that was okay by our standards. We had each harvested a buck, even though mine didn’t have the horns and was about 150 or so pounds lighter than his, and had each got to witness the other’s harvest. I could not have asked for a more memorable rookie deer season!
The short 9-day deer hunting season was over, but the memories are here to stay. During those few days, I got to witness a harvest of an absolute monster buck, harvest my first ever deer, and spend time with my father who taught me all I know about hunting. In his teaching, my father tried to accomplish two different things. One concept was to teach me how to become a patient hunter and how to successfully harvest an animal. That concept was one that was fulfilled within my first few days hunting. The other concept he tried to instill in me was passing on the tradition of hunting that was so prevalent in his life. From a young age, he knew he would have a hunter for a son. Before too long, he also realized that I too would one day pass the same tradition on. Little did he and I know that I would pass the tradition on at such a young age. The hunting tradition that I learned from my father will be passed on this upcoming deer season as I take my girlfriend, Ashley Duffeck, out into the frigid November weather. I now have the honor of teaching Ashley what I have learned from my father. Wish me luck!!!
So there you have it, my first deer season in two blog posts. I will continue on with more hunting stories as time passes and I am bored here at school. Hopefully, I will have some new stories to share with you from this deer season! Good luck to all of you hunters out there this deer season. Be safe and have a good time!
Until we meet again, I wish you luck on your deer season and the hunt to find yourself.