One the ride there I rested my head and I had a dream of killing a big deer. We arrived at my dad’s friends land, we loaded the guns wished each other luck and we went our separate ways on the land, with the hopes of killing a massive buck. Me and my dad faced on more challenge before we reached the hunting stands, was a big steep hill that was wet from the rain we had over the night. On the way up me and my dad both had to rest to avoid falling and injuring ourselves.
Then again, it needed to start raining again making it difficult to find blood in behalf of the rain washing the blood away! Nevertheless, I saw blood right away and began to follow the trail…. Soon after searching for the deer, “I found him, he’s right here!” my dad claimed happily. My buck ended up right on the four-wheeler trail and didn’t even run 40 yards away. I started to walk over to the deer and evaluated that he was a nice seven-pointer.
My Dad assured me that we would be able to find the deer the following morning. That was quite possibly the longest night of my life. I was so stressed, I did not sleep that entire night. When morning came I was ready to hurry down to the field and hunt this deer down. We began our search back where I had shot the deer.
Every year I know that I have one thing to look forward to; hunting with my grandfather, the excitement of getting to opening day, tagging the perfect dear. First, I think it’s important to explain that hunting with my grandfather is something I have done since I was eighteen years old. He lived in Wyoming my entire life so I didn’t get to see him often. Hunting was always a way for us to spend time together and for him to pass on something important to his grandson. My grandpa would share stories with me about his dad, and the hunting trip they had.
As we drive into our property we see fresh deer tracks and my heart starts pumping, I have been away from Wisconsin for a few months and this morning is the first time I entered these woods since September. A few hundred yards into the woods we jump three deer walking the road. They bound off into the darkness in flashes of brown silhouetted by snow. We park... ... middle of paper ... ...the wood for movement, looking for the slightest movement that will indicate the presence of some animal, maybe a deer walking through the woods feeding, or maybe a squirrel on its never-ending hunt for food. At 8:45 I get up and walk to my brother; the cold weather has found its way into my body through my many layers of clothes.
He ask his dad if can go hunting with him one early morning in the summer. He is bout 8 years of age now and is almost old enough to handle a gun. He begged his dad and he ends up in going with his dad and uncle hunting. This is his first time and he has to try to keep up. So he struggles to keep up and he does.
November 2011, the first year I got to go hunting with my dad. I got excited for this year because I became old enough to shoot my first deer with my dad in the hunting stand. I thrived to get my first buck all through November (SV). The night before opening day my dad and I usually go out to chat with my uncles and tell hunting stories at our shack. My uncles always tell old stories of when they got their first buck, and I became nervous knowing I might have a chance at one tomorrow.
John Doe said with a smile, “I can still hear my brother whisper in my ear that we were going to get dinner for the family.” John Doe looks up and sees two deer in the fields, his brother, only five years old, raises the gun and kills one. His brother pulls out a knife from his pocket and instructs John Doe to start gutting the deer. John Doe stated, “I was only four years old, I didn’t know what I was doing. I have only watched my father do this from a distance.” He began to tell me how he closed his eyes and pulled out anything and everything from the deer’s body. The two of them dragged the deer from the cornfield to the barn where the found his father standing by the door with his arms folded.
It was 4:30 in the morning I had just gotten up. It was the second and the last day we had to hunt. The day before my brother (Brandon) had shot his deer and I had not gotten one yet. We were all at the table eating our breakfast That's when my dad looked at me. “You going to get one today?” I looked at him and said with confidence, “Yes.” By now it was 6 a.m and we were all getting our clothing on they were very frigid because we had left them outside overnight.
This pride comes from knowing how hard I have to work. Deer hunting includes much more than the split second of firing a gun in the woods. The hardest part of hunting may be waiting what seems to be an eternity until the start of the season. While I wait, I have many things to do in preparation for the hunt. The first thing that needs done is scouting for stomped down popular deer trails that are little more than narrow paths of mud and feces.