First buck stories

[rugerbh103]

Been up all night, the worst part about working midnight shift is trying to sleep like a normal person on your days off. Was reading and got to thinking about my first buck. Thought it might be interesting to share our stories?

I didnt start hunting until I was 16. No one in my immediate family hunted. Two men from church who knew I wanted to learn started taking me out. Killed a few does with them, but was largely unsuccessful hunting eastern Virginia's Game Management areas. At that time, I got into muzzleloading. The areas I hunted were predominantly shotgun or muzzleloader only. My shotgun didnt do anything impressive with slugs, and while I have killed a doe with buckshot I was never a fan of it. I hunted for several years with a .54 T/C White Mountain Carbine. In 1996 I bought a Knight LK-93 that would be my constant complain for more than 15 years. I have killed nearly every "good" buck I have with that rifle. It was a stainless .50 caliber, with a camo thumbhole stock, and a Nikon Monarch 4X40 scope on it. I started shooting the Hornady SST bullet with 2 pyrodex pellets before finally landing on a Barnes Expander and Tripple 7 FFG. That gun Is still serving well, set up for my girls. It wears a straight stock now as one of my girls is left handed. It has most recently been sighted in with a 250 grain Hornady XTP over 80 grains of Tripple 7 FFG. It shoots this load remarkably well and the girls don't complain about the recoil. That rifle started my obsession with Knight rifles and lead me to the old MK-85's I enjoy finding and hunting with.

Sorry, got away from hunting. My first buck came nearly years later. I had accepted a job in Northern Vorginia, eventually moving to the North Western part of the state and commuting to work. Again, I continued trying but was largely unsuccessful hunting the Game Areas and National Forest of Western VA. A coworker and friend had gained permission to hunt a few hundred acres awaiting development on the edge of a major population area. While scouting the new land we found a fence line separating a large field from a cedar thicket. The thicket bordered an old farm pond and was surrounded by hardwoods. We located a large cedar tree in a small opening on the fence line overlooking the pond. We trimmed out a spot in the tree and put a ladder stand up. At that time I didnt archery hunt and waited eagerly for the opening day of Virginia's early muzzleloader season. I took leave for the two week season. With my schedule, that left me nearly three weeks to hunt. Opening day finally came and I was in my ladder stand well before sun up. It was easy to get in and out of, only being about 40 yards from the old driveway. Early season in Virginia can be sweltering hot, freezing, or anything in between. As I recall, it was cold and I was bundled up in winter clothes. My stand faced directly down the fence line towards the thicket. The pond was on my right and the field on my left. The thick cedars on the fence line prevented me from seeing or shooting into most of the field. A deer trail ran the fence line in front of me and past a large bush about 35 yards in front of me. As the sun began to rise I found myself looking at a rock I hadn't noticed before on the trail behind the bush. As the woods and the little thicket started filling with more light, the rock suddenly moved. I was shocked, the rock was an 8 point buck. He stood behind the bush for what felt like an eternity. I had bought the cheapest stand on sale and it had no gun rest. I remember thinking the rifle weighed a ton and was slightly relieved when the buck turned to walk away from me into the thicket. As he was walking away, I made a single grunt on the call I was wearing around my neck. Much to my surprise the buck turned and started to walk towards me. As he was walking around the bush I rose the riffle and tried to calm my nerves. As soon as he cleared the bush I impatiently fired. He was facing me almost head on when I fired aiming into his chest below the neck. My load back then was the Hornady 250 grain SST and two 50 grain pellets. I sat in stunned silence for a minute before deciding I should reload. I knew I should wait, but after about 10 minutes I couldn't stand it anymore. I climbed down and walked to the bush finding no signs of a hit, no blood or hair. I walked a few more yards still finding nothing. My hunting partner called and said he was coming to help. It seemed like forever waiting for him, but in reality was less than 15 minutes. During the wait doubt started to set in. Was I shaking so hard I missed, did my impatientance in taking a nearly head on shot simply wound? When my partner arrived we decided to walk the deer path against the fence and look for sign. As I walked looking for blood, I nearly tripped over the buck. He was dead on the fence line about 60 yards from the shot. We have ever found a trace of blood during the track. I was elated and relieved. We were both relatively inexperienced hunters trying to figure things out. We dressed the buck and got him to the driveway. We hadn't quite perfected our field dressing skills yet and I'm sure we looked like we killed a small family. In retrospect that buck wasn't much to brag about, an average 8 point with a rack just wider than his ears, but I sent pictures to everyone I knew. The skull mount is still hangs in my basement.

The "pond stand" accounted for more deer than I can recall over the years. I miss the place. I pass it nearly every day at work. It is now a high density housing development. A park surrounds the pond. I always think of the 8 pointer and other notable bucks I killed there when I pass. While I have a few places to hunt now, I still miss that place and the others we lost over the years to development. The Game Department encouraged taking does and in that area you could buy as many antlerless tags as you wanted. We killed a ton of deer in those years. We fed our families, and nearly anyone else who asked. Most importantly, we gained experience and learned quickly. I'm grateful we have been so blessed and thank the Lord daily.

 

[Tnhunter54]

Great story and thanks for sharing.

 

[eekjellander]

A great story after waking up and a cup of coffee /Thanks Ed

 

[Bigterp]

Thanks for Sharing!! Great story

 

[deermanok]

Thanks for sharing your memories.

 

[rugerbh103]

Thanks guys.

 

[Mnt monkey]

I live near the area I grew up hunting,,as a kid I remember how hard it was to even see a deer,,as the area became more developed the deer herd exploded.i hunted a lot of places that are now upscale and fully developed subdivisions,it's mixed feelings for me driving by them now seeing a shopping mall in the field I shot my biggest buck.,,thanks for your hunting story.

 

[rugerbh103]

I feel the same. I miss those old properties, but am lucky to still have a few places to go.

I also miss those days in the mid to late 90's. It seemed like muzzleloading was on fire in VA. There were 2 gun stores I frequented. The had rows of muzzleloaders and supplies. At least were I am now, it seems to be more of a seasonal thing. A few guns, a couple boxes of bullets, some pellets, and maybe a jug of powder.

 

[deermanok]

Back in my home state of Connecticut, there is a piece of state land about 700 acres, that I started hunting back in the early 80's. I got my first buck there with the bow. It was a small spike horn but it was the best trophy ever.
I was hunting on the ground that afternoon and I called the deer in with doe bleat call.
I saw the deer approaching, drew back my bow and shot the buck, a head on shot which struck the white patch in the front of it's chest. Range was about 15 yards. The deer only went about 30 yards after the shot and was done.
I was so proud of that little buck and still think of that afternoon so many years ago.
As time passed, I got to know every rock and stump on the whole property.
My last few deer seasons there, I was after a huge buck that I named big boy. Only ever saw him twice. A huge racked 8 point that I guess would have dressed out about 230 pounds. To my knowledge, nobody ever shot that deer, hope not anyway.

 

[Renegadehunter]

I grew up in a hunting family, dad had me shooting as soon as I was tall enough to keep both ends of a rifle off the ground. Shortly before I turned 12 (required legal age) he started me shooting a 7mm Mauser that he had.
I was very excited to finally get to carry a deer rifle when going hunting with him, he'd been letting me follow him on his still-hunts for quite a while before that. I can still see those stern "slow down and quit makin' so much noise!" looks he'd give me.
I went several times with him and just never had a good shot opportunity. The unit we hunted was bucks only, so no does allowed. Soon the last day of the season was upon us. It was a Sunday, so the morning was tied up with church. After coming home and having some lunch we headed out. We went to an area close by that dad and his brother had bought together several years before that. It is about a 160 acres, but we also were good friends with the neighboring property owner and had permission to hunt on his place too. The neighbor's property laid in a deep canyon and our property was a large "finger" draw that ran into it.
There was a skiff of fresh snow on the ground. The side of the property where we accessed it was wide open, nothing but star thistle. The other side of the draw was brush and timber. We slowly started walking across the open side. Dad stopped often to study the other side for any deer. I can remember that he always stopped often when still hunting, and how much the long pauses used to bug me. I couldn't see any deer, so why were we stopping for so long and so frequently?! 12 year old patience and ignorance. I hadn't yet learned that a whitetail can hide where you wouldn't think a rabbit had enough cover, and that they would also sit tight and let you just walk on by if you were moving...but pause often enough and long enough and they will get nervous and move finally. Around the 4th or 5th long pause I suddenly saw a whole bunch of deer start across the hillside, must've been about 14 of them. All does...except for a fork-n-horn and a huge buck in the back that is! It was like a herd of elk, the buck had a harem of does and was pushing them across the hillside. They ran clear across the hillside and disappeared around the corner of a ridge that lead into the neighbor's big canyon. We didn't take any shots, these deer were 300 yards across from us and didn't ever stop running.
Dad looked at me and I could see he was just as excited about how big that buck was as I was. He quickly told me that we would skirt around to a narrow spot in the draw, cross to the other side, and walk the peak of the other side down to where the deer had disappeared.
We did just that, didn't see any deer while doing so. Dad thought for a bit and then told me that we would continue down into the bottom of the neighbor's canyon. I quickly reminded him of how steep and terrible of a climb it would be back out of it and back to the pickup. He chuckled and told me that we would follow the big draw down to the neighbor's house and then use his phone to call my Uncle Dee to come get us. Off over the edge we went.
We worked our way over to a fence line and started following it down into the canyon. After only getting about a quarter of the way down I suddenly heard dad whisper "stop!". I looked to where he was looking and saw the fork-n-horn and a doe standing about 150 yards down from us. Dad quickly told me to use a fence post as a rest and shoot the buck. I set the rifle across the top of a post, clicked the safety off, and lined up the crosshairs behind the shoulder about half way up. Being a kid I didn't account for the steep downhill shot...but at the boom of the shot the buck dropped! I looked at dad excitedly and saw the same excitement in his face, mingled with a bit of surprise that I'd hit it. Lol.
Upon reaching the buck we saw that I had spined it...but it was mine. We gut it out, drug it down to the bottom, and then walked to the neighbor's to make a phone call for a ride.

 

[eekjellander]

I grew up in a hunting family, dad had me shooting as soon as I was tall enough to keep both ends of a rifle off the ground. Shortly before I turned 12 (required legal age) he started me shooting a 7mm Mauser that he had.
I was very excited to finally get to carry a deer rifle when going hunting with him, he'd been letting me follow him on his still-hunts for quite a while before that. I can still see those stern "slow down and quit makin' so much noise!" looks he'd give me.
I went several times with him and just never had a good shot opportunity. The unit we hunted was bucks only, so no does allowed. Soon the last day of the season was upon us. It was a Sunday, so the morning was tied up with church. After coming home and having some lunch we headed out. We went to an area close by that dad and his brother had bought together several years before that. It is about a 160 acres, but we also were good friends with the neighboring property owner and had permission to hunt on his place too. The neighbor's property laid in a deep canyon and our property was a large "finger" draw that ran into it.
There was a skiff of fresh snow on the ground. The side of the property where we accessed it was wide open, nothing but star thistle. The other side of the draw was brush and timber. We slowly started walking across the open side. Dad stopped often to study the other side for any deer. I can remember that he always stopped often when still hunting, and how much the long pauses used to bug me. I couldn't see any deer, so why were we stopping for so long and so frequently?! 12 year old patience and ignorance. I hadn't yet learned that a whitetail can hide where you wouldn't think a rabbit had enough cover, and that they would also sit tight and let you just walk on by if you were moving...but pause often enough and long enough and they will get nervous and move finally. Around the 4th or 5th long pause I suddenly saw a whole bunch of deer start across the hillside, must've been about 14 of them. All does...except for a fork-n-horn and a huge buck in the back that is! It was like a herd of elk, the buck had a harem of does and was pushing them across the hillside. They ran clear across the hillside and disappeared around the corner of a ridge that lead into the neighbor's big canyon. We didn't take any shots, these deer were 300 yards across from us and didn't ever stop running.
Dad looked at me and I could see he was just as excited about how big that buck was as I was. He quickly told me that we would skirt around to a narrow spot in the draw, cross to the other side, and walk the peak of the other side down to where the deer had disappeared.
We did just that, didn't see any deer while doing so. Dad thought for a bit and then told me that we would continue down into the bottom of the neighbor's canyon. I quickly reminded him of how steep and terrible of a climb it would be back out of it and back to the pickup. He chuckled and told me that we would follow the big draw down to the neighbor's house and then use his phone to call my Uncle Dee to come get us. Off over the edge we went.
We worked our way over to a fence line and started following it down into the canyon. After only getting about a quarter of the way down I suddenly heard dad whisper "stop!". I looked to where he was looking and saw the fork-n-horn and a doe standing about 150 yards down from us. Dad quickly told me to use a fence post as a rest and shoot the buck. I set the rifle across the top of a post, clicked the safety off, and lined up the crosshairs behind the shoulder about half way up. Being a kid I didn't account for the steep downhill shot...but at the boom of the shot the buck dropped! I looked at dad excitedly and saw the same excitement in his face, mingled with a bit of surprise that I'd hit it. Lol.
Upon reaching the buck we saw that I had spined it...but it was mine. We gut it out, drug it down to the bottom, and then walked to the neighbor's to make a phone call for a ride.

I love stories with happy endings and a pile of meat next to the taters/Ed

 

[rugerbh103]

Good story, thanks.

 

[deerlessbob]

A great memory to have. A story like that with family, shooting and venison Is hard to beat.

 

[bronko220002]

Like Renegadehunter I grew up in a hunting family. All my uncles and grandfather hunted. My dad did occasionally but wasn't really into it but he would always come up the camp and hang around with everyone. I started hunting at the legal age of 12 in PA but didn't get my first deer until I was 16 and was able to hunt myself. I always kidded my uncles for putting me in the "bad" spots while they kept the good ones for themselves!
Anyway at 16, with my dirver's license and being able to hunt alone the first day of archery season found me on top of a mountain hunting in a spot I had scouted out previously. (long before trail cams where scouting meant getting boots on the ground). I was hunting from the ground. About 9:00 I watched a doe coming past me well out of range of my 40# Bear recurve. She seemed to be walking funny. About 20 mins later 2 guys came by following her blood trail and talking. I figured that spot was ruined so I moved farther from the road probably about a mile. By this time it was 10:30 or so and I found a nice trail coming up between 2 rock outcroppings so I decided to set up between a cluster of 3 oak trees 15 yard off the trail. I wasn't there 15 mins when I saw deer legs coming up the side of the mountain right up that trail. When it got closer I could see it was a nice buck! When he got behind the rocks I drew my bow and when he came out the other side I released my arrow and watched it bury itself behind the left front shoulder and flip out the other side. His eyes got like silver dollars and he took off on a mad death run. There was no way I could track him if I wanted to. The adrelenaline was coursing through my veins and I was shaking so bad and I could barely stand.
That buck turned bout to be an eight pointer with a nice little basket rack and he ran about 100 yards before piling up. Blood trail was OK but not real good. I figured out how to field dress by myself on that buck.
Being 16 and fit from playing baseball and football in high school plus still on a high, I drug that buck all the way to the truck, over a mile, and I think I only stopped twice. He turned out to be 128 lbs dressed weight. Today that drag would kill me...LOL

 

[MrTom]

My earliest deer hunts were with a bow. Lots of memories.

 

[bronko220002]

My earliest deer hunts were with a bow. Lots of memories.

Tom me too. In fact it must be about 15 uears now since I got a buck with any type of firearm. I've been lucky with my bow in all these uears except 2021 when I got skunked. Never saw a legal deer all that year!

 

[MrTom]

I started with a Bear recurve of about 48 pounds. Then went to a Black Widow Take-down and a Groves custom bow. I remember getting my first dozen Micro-Flites with cresting and four fletches at 90 degrees. Shot like bullets. The first four years I didn't get any deer but I did get some super education on just how smart the deer were, and I wasn't. 1972 I shot a huge, barren doe on opening day, my first Minnesota deer with a bow. I took a buck in Montana that fall in November with the rifle. I'll be 73 in November and have shot somewhere in the neighborhood of 350 deer, 2 elk and a handful of bear, with many of the deer falling to a bow, either recurve or compound. I've long since had to retire the bows and have leaned heavily on muzzies in the last 30 years in lieu of the bows. I've enjoyed hunting in Minnesota, Iowa, Wisconsin, Montana, Wyoming, Colorado, Idaho, and Canada. I stay local now but would like to do a pig hunt in the next year or two.

 

[Bushfire]

I'm from a generational hunting family.

When I turned 12, which is the legal age in my state we went wood cutting and dad chucked in the .270.

After we'd cut enough wood we got to go for a stalk through a 50 acre patch of bush. I was allowed one bullet in the old rem 700 and the bolt had to be fully open. I remember we'd been going for a while when dad tapped me on the shoulder, I looked around and there about 40 yards away was a beautiful stag. I chambered the round, put it on his chest and squeezed the trigger. Went about 40 yards, shot through the arteries at the top of the heart. He had old buckshot wounds (which is illegal) and ended up being a stag that in his prime had been a giant with all the local hunters chasing him. When I shot him he was going backwards and had teeth worn to near the gumline. Still one of my favourite and best deer I've taken 20 years on.

 

[dobegrant]

Thanks for sharing some great stories,

 

[Tony gilbert]

My earliest deer hunts were with a bow. Lots of memories.

Me to tom my uncle gave me his old bear bow it was glorious