I have been sharing stories about memorable hunts I have had over the years. That being the case, it’s only proper to share my story about the first deer I ever tagged. This happened sometime around my freshman year in High School. A late start compared to a lot of kids at the time. Maybe this will jog a few of your beginning hunting memories.
My first opportunity to deer hunt was with our neighbor’s hunting gang. I had to stay close to my uncle. My hunts consisted of no plan other than being told where to sit in the woods. I had no idea where I was or what I was doing. This whetted my urge to hunt but frankly was kind of boring.
In my early years I had to borrow a gun. For a while I carried a .410 loaded with a slug (folks always said it was “like a rifle at close range”, but not so much.). In this story I had upgraded to a 12-gauge shotgun with buckshot. I have found through the years that buckshot is deadly at close range. My dad gave me his Winchester Model 100 .308 a few years later.
One year my uncle didn’t hunt with the gang. Instead, we hunted nearby on a neighbor’s property. We arrived about daylight and spoke with the landowner about the best place to hunt. The landowner’s instructions to me were to “go up that ridge until you get to a fence, back off about 50 yards and find a place to sit”.
This was the first time I had ever hunted completely on my own, and it turned out that I liked it. I climbed the ridge, found the fence at the edge of a field, guessed what fifty yards looked like, and sit down on a fallen log. It was a cold morning, and I was sweated wet after climbing the steep ridge to my “stand”. It wasn’t long until I had cooled off and the chill set-in.
At that time, I had no dedicated hunting clothes. I’m not even sure if I owned a pair of long johns. Just blue jeans, a hat with some red on it, and a coat with a red hanky pinned on the back. Blaze orange wasn’t required back then. I had likely put on two pair of socks but it didn’t do much good.
Just before hypothermia set in, I heard a loud commotion in the leaves headed my way. A group of does ran up and stopped a short distance away. I don’t know if my shaking was from the cold or excitement but I pointed the shotgun in the general direction and fired my first shot. The deer took off through the woods like nothing happened. Dang!!
Sometime later almost the exact same scenario occurred! I heard more deer running toward me in the crisp frost covered leaves and another group of does came to a stop at nearly the same spot. This time I took a little more time with my aim and fired again. Same result!! Could I have missed again! Not quite sure what to do, I decided to follow the trail of freshly stirred-up leaves. I didn’t go far until I saw something white in the laurel and there lay a fine doe.
No one ever told me what to do next! I knew the doe needed to be field dressed, but where do you start? Is it best to start your cut at the point of the ribs or toward the rear end? How deep? What comes out and what stays in? My first messy field dressing left much to be desired but I got it done. And now at least my hands were warm.
Next, I needed to get the doe out of the woods. I had no drag rope. I couldn’t get a hold of the ears, so I started dragging it down the ridge to the hollow by the hind leg.
Awkward but I made progress. After a while I met the landowner. He likely had heard my shots and the commotion I was making in the leaves. He said the field dressing was adequate, looped a rope around the does neck and tied on a stick I could grip with both hands. A deer drags much easier pulling from the front. And I have learned since, especially if it has antlers.
I was hooked!! I could hardly wait until the next year!
R.D. Cullers
