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Just a few weeks ago I took my stepson and his 11 yo son hunting on my friends property. I had been seeing a lot of deer out of the stand I usually hunt and put them there and got in an old stand not far from them. I saw 3 does and a spike, they saw nothing. Afternoon hunts in my stand are usually great so I put them in my stand again and went to my friends stand; saw 4 does. They saw nada.
Sunday morning I put them in my friend’s stand and sat in mine. Naturally, I saw a couple of does but didn’t shoot. A few minutes past 7, I heard a shot. I get a text: “ Papaw this is Carson, I got a 8
Point.”
We had agreed to hunt till 10. So about 9:30, I hear another shot. No text.
At 10, Carson and his Dad pick me up in my ATV with a nice 8 Pt and a big doe.
Carson had smoked the 8 at about 75 yds, dropped it in his tracks. The doe came out about 125 yds. A shot resulted in a hunch and the doe ran off. They go down and find blood. Stepson Made Carson put eyes on every drop of blood. That kid was so intent on finding blood, his dad saw the deer down about 30 yards before Carson almost tripped on it. He never said a word, wanting the boy to find it.
My stepson told me as we were taking pictures,
“Of all the deer I’ve killed, this has been the best I’ve ever felt.”
Papaw was pretty happy too.
Sunday morning I put them in my friend’s stand and sat in mine. Naturally, I saw a couple of does but didn’t shoot. A few minutes past 7, I heard a shot. I get a text: “ Papaw this is Carson, I got a 8
Point.”
We had agreed to hunt till 10. So about 9:30, I hear another shot. No text.
At 10, Carson and his Dad pick me up in my ATV with a nice 8 Pt and a big doe.
Carson had smoked the 8 at about 75 yds, dropped it in his tracks. The doe came out about 125 yds. A shot resulted in a hunch and the doe ran off. They go down and find blood. Stepson Made Carson put eyes on every drop of blood. That kid was so intent on finding blood, his dad saw the deer down about 30 yards before Carson almost tripped on it. He never said a word, wanting the boy to find it.
My stepson told me as we were taking pictures,
“Of all the deer I’ve killed, this has been the best I’ve ever felt.”
Papaw was pretty happy too.
quote:
They go down and find blood. Stepson Made Carson put eyes on every drop of blood. That kid was so intent on finding blood, his dad saw the deer down about 30 yards before Carson almost tripped on it. He never said a word, wanting the boy to find it.
Blood trailing deer is just as fun as every other part of hunting.
It’s like reading a good story you don’t know the ending to.
Mine is about my dad getting his first deer. When I was a teenager, we hunted probably 5 years on a piney woods lease and never killed a deer. It was one of those leases that if u saw 1 deer a season that was normal, and we usually saw ours while riding the 3 wheeler to the stand. We killed plenty of squirrels, but never a deer. When I graduated high school I got into duck hunting hardcore with a buddy, and that's all I did for 20 years. Dad wouldn't go, he said duck hunting was for young men. The year my dad turned 65, his aging hit a nerve with me, and I got us on a deer lease together, to get him out of the house. My buddies and I did all the hard work, but dad was always with us giving it his best. On opening morning that year, I heard a shot, and dad's voice came over the walkie talkie. He was super excited to have shot his first deer ever, said "he was a six or an eight point! Hard to tell cause it's kinda foggy, but I got him! He jumped and ran off". WE told him to sit tight till we get there. My buddies and I arrive to help track his deer. As we follow the blood trail thru the pine trees we finally see a big bodied deer piled up. "There he is!" As we walked up to see a "six or an eight point", we found a 160 pound, 6 inch spike. As we stood there , my buddy says, well that the worst case of ground shrinkage ever. We had a good laugh, and dad proudly hung the picture in his house. Well, The next year we took him to South Texas where he sat with a guide and watched a dozen bucks at a time for 3 days, finally shooting a 10 point (that fit the budget for me, $3k). Later, at 75 years, not long before he died, we were looking at the 10 point on the wall over his TV, and the picture of the spike hanging on the wall next to it. dad told me that spike, that was a result of our hard work together, meant more to him than the 10 point. We just hung the 10 point and the picture of the spike in the nursery room for my 1 week one grandson.
Edit: Dad had a stroke that year so when we brought him to South Texas, he could barely walk with his cane or walker. That rancher and his son built a ground blind just for dad, so he could get in and out of it. I love that guy for it. We hunted with him for years after.
Edit: Dad had a stroke that year so when we brought him to South Texas, he could barely walk with his cane or walker. That rancher and his son built a ground blind just for dad, so he could get in and out of it. I love that guy for it. We hunted with him for years after.
This post was edited on 1/14 at 11:30 am
When I was in my twenties, I’d moved away from home for work and had joined a local hunting club. A club member in his late 50s took me under his wing. We hunted and fished together for several years. One season, he’d climbed a pine and killed his best buck ever, an 11 point. The following spring, he passed away from cancer.
The next fall, I avoided climbing that tree for a while. Finally, I made a hunt after work and climbed the pine. It still had bite marks in it from his climber from the year before. Sitting there that afternoon, the finality of his death hit me. We’d never again meet up back at the trucks after a hunt. We’d never again catch a cooler full of crappie and fry them that night. For most of the afternoon, I was in a dark place. Tears ran down my cheeks, knowing the good times we had would never be again. Late in the day, I regained my composure a bit and realized that I would just have to cherish the memories we were lucky enough to share. In the last minutes of shooting light, a fine 8 point was walking down the fire lane towards me. I’ve been gone from the club for a number of years, but that buck was the best I ever killed there. I’ll always believe that the buck was sent from my dear friend Jimmy and heaven above.
The next fall, I avoided climbing that tree for a while. Finally, I made a hunt after work and climbed the pine. It still had bite marks in it from his climber from the year before. Sitting there that afternoon, the finality of his death hit me. We’d never again meet up back at the trucks after a hunt. We’d never again catch a cooler full of crappie and fry them that night. For most of the afternoon, I was in a dark place. Tears ran down my cheeks, knowing the good times we had would never be again. Late in the day, I regained my composure a bit and realized that I would just have to cherish the memories we were lucky enough to share. In the last minutes of shooting light, a fine 8 point was walking down the fire lane towards me. I’ve been gone from the club for a number of years, but that buck was the best I ever killed there. I’ll always believe that the buck was sent from my dear friend Jimmy and heaven above.
Great thread and I've enjoyed the stories. Mine is when I was younger duck hunting with my dad. Probably only the second time I ever went with him. We started in a pit blind and I felt so stealthy hiding below the grass brush watching the birds fly by. I remember dad killed a few birds but couldn't tell you how many or what kind. I was just happy to be there. On the walk back to the 4 wheeler he seeing a raft of pou'l deus (sp?) in the field and asks if I want to shoot. Super excited he hands me his 12ga and I get on one knee while he helps me hold the gun up steady. Boom. I shoot and the kick knocked on my back. luckily dad held onto the gun. We had a good laugh. Hope I never forget it.
re: How about some feel good stories?Posted by Pepperidge on 1/14/22 at 3:13 pm to doubleh
been hunting the past 4 weeks with my 19yo daughter while LSU is off for Winter break
been a slow 3 weeks prior and yesterday was her last day before heading up to LSU
put her in a ladder about 50 yds off of a food plot where I have a 10, a 9 and 2 8's on camera at night
I'm in a climber 180yds away watching a nice 8 and my phone just blows up with text messages
she was watching two spikes harass the does on the food plot, then they came into the woods right past the stand in the bottom off of the field about 60 yds away.
she watched them for about 30 minutes playing chase all around her.
Now she hasn't killed a deer since 2018, and more than willingly passed on all of those deer and just enjoyed the experience, full knowing she may not get another hunt before the season ends because she is vested in the mature deer ideology.
I passed on that 8 so it wouldn't spook/ruin what she had going on.
She just told me today that that was the best hunt she'd ever been on.
been a slow 3 weeks prior and yesterday was her last day before heading up to LSU
put her in a ladder about 50 yds off of a food plot where I have a 10, a 9 and 2 8's on camera at night
I'm in a climber 180yds away watching a nice 8 and my phone just blows up with text messages
she was watching two spikes harass the does on the food plot, then they came into the woods right past the stand in the bottom off of the field about 60 yds away.
she watched them for about 30 minutes playing chase all around her.
Now she hasn't killed a deer since 2018, and more than willingly passed on all of those deer and just enjoyed the experience, full knowing she may not get another hunt before the season ends because she is vested in the mature deer ideology.
I passed on that 8 so it wouldn't spook/ruin what she had going on.
She just told me today that that was the best hunt she'd ever been on.
re: How about some feel good stories?Posted by LSUTigahss on 1/14/22 at 11:40 pm to doubleh
2 part story here that both make me feel good.
As a kid I slept on the floor of the box stand and my father would wake me up and I would groggy eyed shoot the deer that he spotted for me. As I got older
,naturally we hunted in the same stand less and less. A week before I turned 18 we went together for youth hunt, my last one. A small 8 point walked out and I got to kill it with my dad in the stand with me. That was our last hunt like that for many years.
Fast forward ~10 years.
A couple of days into this season, I left work around lunch for a dentist appointment. Finished in time to hustle out to our land. For whatever reason, my father decided to come sit with me. Not even an hour in a few does walked up and I was looking through the binoculars. As I’m watching the does, I see a nice buck step into the lane. All I could say was “big buck” as I grabbed the gun and shot. Turned out to be a good 9 point, and the biggest deer I had killed to date. Also now that I think about it, the first big buck I had killed since that youth hunt.
It was awesome that my father happened to decide to hunt with me that afternoon and got to be there for that kill. Something I will cherish forever.
I know that’s a wall of text, but I’ve really realized this season that getting to hunt our little bit of land with my father is something I am so grateful for. He’s 66 now and still hauling corn sacks and Corning every day while I’m working typically. He has dropped down to carrying half sacks, and I typically don’t get much help dragging deer, but I will never forget the times we get to spend together. I got to stop, this is making me emotional. Love my pops.
As a kid I slept on the floor of the box stand and my father would wake me up and I would groggy eyed shoot the deer that he spotted for me. As I got older
,naturally we hunted in the same stand less and less. A week before I turned 18 we went together for youth hunt, my last one. A small 8 point walked out and I got to kill it with my dad in the stand with me. That was our last hunt like that for many years.
Fast forward ~10 years.
A couple of days into this season, I left work around lunch for a dentist appointment. Finished in time to hustle out to our land. For whatever reason, my father decided to come sit with me. Not even an hour in a few does walked up and I was looking through the binoculars. As I’m watching the does, I see a nice buck step into the lane. All I could say was “big buck” as I grabbed the gun and shot. Turned out to be a good 9 point, and the biggest deer I had killed to date. Also now that I think about it, the first big buck I had killed since that youth hunt.
It was awesome that my father happened to decide to hunt with me that afternoon and got to be there for that kill. Something I will cherish forever.
I know that’s a wall of text, but I’ve really realized this season that getting to hunt our little bit of land with my father is something I am so grateful for. He’s 66 now and still hauling corn sacks and Corning every day while I’m working typically. He has dropped down to carrying half sacks, and I typically don’t get much help dragging deer, but I will never forget the times we get to spend together. I got to stop, this is making me emotional. Love my pops.
This post was edited on 1/14 at 11:43 pm
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