I have been bow hunting D11 since the season started and found an area with a lot of does. I even managed to make a couple stalks but did not connect with them. As the general season started to get closer I saw some bucks and decided to sit on a glassing spot for opening day where I had seen a buck come down a couple of days prior.
I arrived at 0500 and just sat there quiet until about 0730 then I got bored and decided to go check another glassing spot that was at a higher elevation and facing a different direction so I hike back to the truck and hit the road.
As soon as I turned on the two track rd and started going up, I spotted a couple of does to my left so I was going to drive up a little further and hike back down to try and stalk them, thee was a little just on the rd and as I came around the corner, at about 6o yards max I see a buck with a doe just standing there in the brush. I stopped and we stared at each other for what seemed like a few minutes as i got out of the truck and slowly walked towards them and off the road. They started to move up hill. I kneeled on the dirt and brought my riffle up putting the cross hair on the buck. I let out a not very confident burp/grunt and he stops and look at me again.
At this point there are a lot of voices in my head saying all kinds of things and I try to filter out the gibberish and concentrate on the one saying..."slowly, pull...pull...pull" then all of the sudden BOOOMMM!!!!!
Holy shit, doe is running up and the buck is following here, put the cross hairs back on him and chamber another round. Quick!
Just as I peak through my scope he takes a drunken step, crossing his front legs and I realize that I did not miss my shot. The buck moved about 10 yards and rolled down hill for another 10 yards.
Heart rate up the roof, I take a good breath and after a couple of minutes, call the family of facetime so the kids can share the experience with me and walk up to my first buck. Nothing big but good enough for me! I hunt for the meat and not the antlers...After a few hours getting all the meat and salvageable organs packed, I was on my way home.
Now that the pressure of getting a deer is over, I'm looking forward to fill my A31 tag.
I arrived at 0500 and just sat there quiet until about 0730 then I got bored and decided to go check another glassing spot that was at a higher elevation and facing a different direction so I hike back to the truck and hit the road.
As soon as I turned on the two track rd and started going up, I spotted a couple of does to my left so I was going to drive up a little further and hike back down to try and stalk them, thee was a little just on the rd and as I came around the corner, at about 6o yards max I see a buck with a doe just standing there in the brush. I stopped and we stared at each other for what seemed like a few minutes as i got out of the truck and slowly walked towards them and off the road. They started to move up hill. I kneeled on the dirt and brought my riffle up putting the cross hair on the buck. I let out a not very confident burp/grunt and he stops and look at me again.
At this point there are a lot of voices in my head saying all kinds of things and I try to filter out the gibberish and concentrate on the one saying..."slowly, pull...pull...pull" then all of the sudden BOOOMMM!!!!!
Holy shit, doe is running up and the buck is following here, put the cross hairs back on him and chamber another round. Quick!
Just as I peak through my scope he takes a drunken step, crossing his front legs and I realize that I did not miss my shot. The buck moved about 10 yards and rolled down hill for another 10 yards.
Heart rate up the roof, I take a good breath and after a couple of minutes, call the family of facetime so the kids can share the experience with me and walk up to my first buck. Nothing big but good enough for me! I hunt for the meat and not the antlers...After a few hours getting all the meat and salvageable organs packed, I was on my way home.
Now that the pressure of getting a deer is over, I'm looking forward to fill my A31 tag.
