My First Deer

{My First Deer

         Hunting is a new passion of mine; I have only gone a handful of times. A friend of mine took me hunting on his family’s ranch around December of 2010.  Even though I didn’t shoot anything, I fell in love with the sport. The following year I finally had the chance to shoot my first buck, and the experience was amazing. The endless wait, the freezing cold, the rising sun, all of these elements helped to make shooting my first deer the most electrifying moment of my life. 

As soon as I got home from my first hunting expedition, I started stocking up on my hunting equipment. The first thing I bought was a pair of hiking boots from Wal-Mart. The boots are size ten, dark brown, waterproof, and steel-toed. After that, I bought a few Mossy Oak break-up sweaters and cargo pants. That summer, I bought my first hunting rifle, a Savage .30-06. I fell in love with the gun as soon as I saw it.  The rifle has a twenty-two inch barrel with a deep brown walnut stock, and its shines like a full moon. I felt so much pride when I purchased that gun, knowing that when I finally shot my first deer, I would by using my own personal rifle. I spent the next few months anxiously awaiting my next hunting trip.

         Deer season finally came back around and my friend and I went back to his ranch the second week of November, 2011. We arrived around Midnight and began to unpack. We couldn’t move fast enough; it was so cold outside. My cheeks and nose were turning red, I could see my breath, and my fingers and toes were starting to go numb. We finally got into the camper and started preparing for bed. I stared into the glowing red space heater and drifted off to sleep.  I woke up after what seemed like only a few minutes to the siren that was my friend’s alarm clock. We woke up, got dressed, jumped in the truck, and headed out to the deer stand. The temperature felt as if it had dropped twenty degrees; I was freezing. The redness and numbness quickly returned to my face, fingers, and toes; fortunately, I was given hand warmers. The hand warmers felt like my own personal heater and, even though my toes were still freezing, my hands were nice and toasty. It was still pitch black when we got to the stand, and I stumbled a bit climbing up the stairs. After I regained my composure and climbed into the stand, I started readying myself as quietly as possible. I opened all the windows and set up sand bags to rest my rifle on. I was ready, my rifle was ready; all that was left to do was wait.

         The wait can last for hours upon hours; sometimes I might not even see anything, but that’s what the hunt is all about. As my friend would say, “That’s why it’s called hunting, not killing.” The sun began coming up over the horizon and I expected the temperature to get warmer, but it never did. I could still see my breath; my toes were still numb, even my fingers were starting to go numb due to the fact that my hand warmers were starting to lose their effect.  I am sure the entire deer stand was shaking from my shivers. I wanted to give up, I wanted to go back to camp and sit in front of the heater, but I wanted a deer even more. So I stayed and I waited. I had been in my stand for four hours and I was about to head back; that is when I saw it.

It seemed to come out of nowhere; I only took my eyes off of the feeder for a few seconds to pack up my rifle, but when I looked up, I saw a deer. It was a buck, an eight point weighing about 140 pounds. My heart immediately started racing. I could feel my own pulse and I could hear my own heartbeat. I reached for my rifle and, because my fingers were still useless from the cold, I hit the edge of the window. My stomach dropped; I felt as though I would puke. I was only about fifty yards away from my deer, and I knew for sure it had heard me.  I stopped and waited, completely still; I didn’t even breathe. When I felt for sure the deer had not noticed me, I readied my rifle. As I looked through my scope, I knew I was far too anxious, and I told myself that I had to slow down. I took a deep breath and tried to focus on the rhythm of my heart beat. When I felt like I was on target, I squeezed the trigger; my shot was perfect. The deer dropped instantly, and I knew it was dead. The crack of the gun caused my ears to ring; the recoil of the gun destroyed my shoulder and I knew it would be bruised, but none of that mattered. I had just shot my first deer, and I was the most excited I think I have ever been.

         The thrill of that hunt was amazing, and shooting that deer was one of the best moments of my life. I plan on going hunting again this year. I’m sure it will still be fun and most things will remain the same. I will have to wait in the stand just as long, the weather will be just as cold, and I will see just as many sunrises and sunsets, but one thing will never be the same again. Never again will I have the experience of shooting my first deer.