The sun was coming up just as we got into the area we'd chosen. We continued driving north, looking to get away from the majority of the hunting crowd from the city. As we rounded a bend in the road, a whitetail doe emerged from the woods on the left and crossed the road directly in front of us, earnestly followed by a big buck. Both casually walked across the gravel and up the hill on the other side while we watched from the truck. Still being on a secondary highway we weren't able to shoot them from just off the road, and by the time we followed them the required distance from the road they surely would have spooked and ran off. So we watched until they dissappeared into the trees on the right, and took it as a good sign for the day to come.
Further up the road a bit we parked and took off into the woods on the right. Not a lot of deer sign to be found, but some. Following a few game trails didn't pan out. Striking off into the woods alone following a sound that could have been a deer making its way through the dense woods only served to remind me that I have no sense of direction. An hour and a half later when I found the road again we decided to try a more open area a little further north.
A large, thick copse of deciduous trees with a cutline through the middle of it and surrounded by open meadow seemed like a good bet. I headed up the cutline and buddy went on push detail into the trees on the left. I watched and waited. The most difficult part of hunting for me is the concentration. My mind wanders quickly and one of the benefits of hunting, IMO, is going to be the mental training required: patience, diligence, extended periods of focus, attention to detail.
Suddenly, a doe popped out of the trees on the left and stands in the open cutline maybe 50 yards away. In a fraction of a second, the following thoughts all raced through my mind while I looked at her through the scope: "Do I really want to do this? This deer never did anything to me. But I eat meat, and countless other animals have died to feed me, so if I'm not willing to do this myself I'm a big hypocrite. And holy crap stop being a wuss, if I sit here thinking about it she's gonna get away -" BAM!
She fell straight down on the spot. I stood there for a minute, half expecting her to get up, and preparing to track her. Her head flopped once, and then she was still.
Then I learned how to gut and clean a deer. Or at least, started to learn. In the process, I found out that my bullet passed through both lungs and the heart. That would explain the lack of chasing - I'll have to remember that spot
Now, here's the totally unexpected thing: We're just finished wrapping the carcass in a tarp and loading it on the truck, and heading back to the gut location to make sure we didn't forget anything, when a white pickup pulls up behind my buddy's truck. I figure it's SRD and they'll want to check the tag, or WIN card, or all of the above. We hadn't done anything wrong, and I was pretty sure of that, as I was very careful to study the regs, the map, and the WMU details, etc before we'd even left town. Still, first time out maybe I screwed it up somehow, right? But probably just a routine check.
Guy gets out of the truck and asks if we're taking the heart and the liver, and if not, can he have it. WTF? I drive two hours out of downtown Calgary and still manage to get panhandled. I had to laugh.
Anyways, that's my "first deer" story. I'm certainly glad I did it. I still have a mule tag and hope to go again this weekend.
Further up the road a bit we parked and took off into the woods on the right. Not a lot of deer sign to be found, but some. Following a few game trails didn't pan out. Striking off into the woods alone following a sound that could have been a deer making its way through the dense woods only served to remind me that I have no sense of direction. An hour and a half later when I found the road again we decided to try a more open area a little further north.
A large, thick copse of deciduous trees with a cutline through the middle of it and surrounded by open meadow seemed like a good bet. I headed up the cutline and buddy went on push detail into the trees on the left. I watched and waited. The most difficult part of hunting for me is the concentration. My mind wanders quickly and one of the benefits of hunting, IMO, is going to be the mental training required: patience, diligence, extended periods of focus, attention to detail.
Suddenly, a doe popped out of the trees on the left and stands in the open cutline maybe 50 yards away. In a fraction of a second, the following thoughts all raced through my mind while I looked at her through the scope: "Do I really want to do this? This deer never did anything to me. But I eat meat, and countless other animals have died to feed me, so if I'm not willing to do this myself I'm a big hypocrite. And holy crap stop being a wuss, if I sit here thinking about it she's gonna get away -" BAM!
She fell straight down on the spot. I stood there for a minute, half expecting her to get up, and preparing to track her. Her head flopped once, and then she was still.
Then I learned how to gut and clean a deer. Or at least, started to learn. In the process, I found out that my bullet passed through both lungs and the heart. That would explain the lack of chasing - I'll have to remember that spot
Now, here's the totally unexpected thing: We're just finished wrapping the carcass in a tarp and loading it on the truck, and heading back to the gut location to make sure we didn't forget anything, when a white pickup pulls up behind my buddy's truck. I figure it's SRD and they'll want to check the tag, or WIN card, or all of the above. We hadn't done anything wrong, and I was pretty sure of that, as I was very careful to study the regs, the map, and the WMU details, etc before we'd even left town. Still, first time out maybe I screwed it up somehow, right? But probably just a routine check.
Guy gets out of the truck and asks if we're taking the heart and the liver, and if not, can he have it. WTF? I drive two hours out of downtown Calgary and still manage to get panhandled. I had to laugh.
Anyways, that's my "first deer" story. I'm certainly glad I did it. I still have a mule tag and hope to go again this weekend.
