NathanFincher
Member
Well, it started out as just a usual, ordinary morning... I didn't want to get up. It had been a late day the day before so I didn't get in bed 'til late. My alarm clock went off and my dad came in simultaneously. When my dad asked me "We goin' this mornin'?" my response was "Nah, we can sleep in." He was puzzled because, as a 15 year old boy (at the time) who had never shot anything other than a doe and a button buck (mistaken for a doe), I was usually the one waking him up to go. He said "You sure?" and I lay there for about half a minute and said "Ugh... I'm getting up." So we both got ready. We both drank some coffee, took care of some business and we were on our way.
We hunt about 45 minutes away from our house. So I was driving, we were listening to 97.1 The River and talking. As usual we got there later than we intended, but it was fine. We walked as quick as possible while still not making much noise until we reached the back field. My dad watched me get up into the tripod stand and made sure I got my gun up and that everything was alright and he made his way back up to his tripod in a filed in the front.
I slowly, and quietly, loaded my Remington 700 .308. It an extremely heavy gun, so I picked it up off my lap and leaned it up against the corner of the stand. The floor and bottom half of our stands have carpet in them. Me and my dad built canopies on top of the tripods to prevent from getting wet and we have camouflage mesh hanging down to cover the whole box. Well the sun was just about to peek over the horizon. And the sun hitting that mesh makes the most awful glare in the world and I usually have to peek out the slits cut in it to put the gun through so that I can see if anything's in the field. So I'd been sitting there for roughly 15 minutes, and I look to my right and it was THE most beautiful thing I have ever seen in my life. Now I had just looked to my left only about 3 seconds before looking back to my right so how this big guy got out there so quickly and quietly is still to my amazement. But this GIANT buck was just standing there out in the field on a ridge line almost saying "Shoot me, shoot me...". The first thing I saw was the sun shining off those horns and then his body. My heart was racing like crazy and I just stopped breathing. I pulled up my rifle as quick as I could without banging it against the stand. I put my sights on him, right behind the front leg, held my breath, and squeezed the trigger. POWWWW. Nothing. There was nothing in my scope, I looked up, nothing in the field! "Did I miss him? No! I know I shot him! But where did he go?" All these thoughts were racing through my brain. Then, once I assured myself I had shot him, I just started smiling, and laughing to myself. I wanted to scream "I got him!!!" but I didn't in consideration of hunters near me. Now, my dad had always told me "Do not get down until I come to get you. Those tripods are a little rickety and I don't want you falling and no one be there." Well 15 minutes had passed, and just as I put my rifle on the drop rope and was about to get down anyway, 3 doe come trotting out. I was like "Awh crap! Well this will be cool to see dad walking up in the field with all these doe standing here." They left. 30 more minutes passed and then a 6 pointer, 2 more doe, a spike, and a 4 pointer came out, at different parts of the field at different times, that's just the count of what I saw. Well after they walked back in the woods, I figured I saw all those deer from waiting, so I'll wait some more. I didn't see anymore.
After a grand total of about 2 and a half hours after I had shot my deer, I thought to myself "Alright, I don't even care, I'm getting down." One of the leading factors to this is that the chili dogs from a party the previous night and my coveralls were not agreeing to well. So I got down and walked down to the ridge line. I figured that I just couldn't see the deer from where I shot because he had fallen behind the ridge line and the grass was so tall. Well I kept walking and I didn't see it, nor a blood trail. I was heartbroken. Then I walked up on it and it scared me nearly half to death. I almost fell on my butt. I was just hysterical now. It had dropped exactly where it was when I shot it because I broke its back and hit a giant nerve bundle. I assume it died, if not instantly, relatively quick. With it laying there, the top of the rack same up a little higher than my knee. I rushed towards my dad's stand in the front. I ran into him in one of the little trails in between the fields. I said "Sorry, but those chili dogs from last night and these coveralls are not agreeing to well." He laughed and said alright. Then I said "Plus, we got to get this big ol' deer up out of the field back here!" He said "Did you get ya one?" I told him I did and kept saying how big it was but couldn't stress it enough. He told me the reason he didn't get down is because he could have swore the shot came from the 12 o' clock position to him, where as I was 9 o' clock to him.
As we walked back, I was nearly running, probably would have been if that .308 wasn't weighing me down. When we walked up to it, my dad just stopped. He said "Oh my gosh, Nathan! Do you know what you have just done?" I thought I had done something wrong, again! I had already shot the button buck, and the previous season gut shot a doe and my bolt broke on my .270 and I couldn't kill it, and 1 other mishap. Now I've messed up again! "What?! What?!" He told me "Dude! You have just shot the buck of a lifetime! Holy crap!" So we went and got my truck and drove to the back, both of us more excited than a opossum in a trailer park dumpster, and we let down the tailgate and I got up in the back, ready for my dad to hand me the rack so I could pull him up. He was not a very big bodied deer. Now this .308 has a history of going straight through the deer and keep going. Well when the tailgate bent the mid-portion of its body, blood shot out the exit wound like Mt. St. Helens. We didn't really know of a good taxidermy around so we drove to our normal deer cooler and asked them. There was a guy there who worked for Ronnie Bulloch down at RB's taxidermy. He does all the Team RealTree guys' stuff, Jeff Foxworthy's, and quite a bit of other famous people's. He is pricey, but his work is the best around. But anyway, we followed this guy to RB's as he was going back there anyway. Mr. Bulloch was an extremely nice fellow and spent a lot of time with me. So that's pretty much my story. Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed it. I do not have my mount back yet but expect to within the next few weeks, I will post pictures of it when I get it.
P.S. you can view all my photos of my deer in my album here. http://forum.gon.com/album.php?albumid=6416
We hunt about 45 minutes away from our house. So I was driving, we were listening to 97.1 The River and talking. As usual we got there later than we intended, but it was fine. We walked as quick as possible while still not making much noise until we reached the back field. My dad watched me get up into the tripod stand and made sure I got my gun up and that everything was alright and he made his way back up to his tripod in a filed in the front.
I slowly, and quietly, loaded my Remington 700 .308. It an extremely heavy gun, so I picked it up off my lap and leaned it up against the corner of the stand. The floor and bottom half of our stands have carpet in them. Me and my dad built canopies on top of the tripods to prevent from getting wet and we have camouflage mesh hanging down to cover the whole box. Well the sun was just about to peek over the horizon. And the sun hitting that mesh makes the most awful glare in the world and I usually have to peek out the slits cut in it to put the gun through so that I can see if anything's in the field. So I'd been sitting there for roughly 15 minutes, and I look to my right and it was THE most beautiful thing I have ever seen in my life. Now I had just looked to my left only about 3 seconds before looking back to my right so how this big guy got out there so quickly and quietly is still to my amazement. But this GIANT buck was just standing there out in the field on a ridge line almost saying "Shoot me, shoot me...". The first thing I saw was the sun shining off those horns and then his body. My heart was racing like crazy and I just stopped breathing. I pulled up my rifle as quick as I could without banging it against the stand. I put my sights on him, right behind the front leg, held my breath, and squeezed the trigger. POWWWW. Nothing. There was nothing in my scope, I looked up, nothing in the field! "Did I miss him? No! I know I shot him! But where did he go?" All these thoughts were racing through my brain. Then, once I assured myself I had shot him, I just started smiling, and laughing to myself. I wanted to scream "I got him!!!" but I didn't in consideration of hunters near me. Now, my dad had always told me "Do not get down until I come to get you. Those tripods are a little rickety and I don't want you falling and no one be there." Well 15 minutes had passed, and just as I put my rifle on the drop rope and was about to get down anyway, 3 doe come trotting out. I was like "Awh crap! Well this will be cool to see dad walking up in the field with all these doe standing here." They left. 30 more minutes passed and then a 6 pointer, 2 more doe, a spike, and a 4 pointer came out, at different parts of the field at different times, that's just the count of what I saw. Well after they walked back in the woods, I figured I saw all those deer from waiting, so I'll wait some more. I didn't see anymore.
After a grand total of about 2 and a half hours after I had shot my deer, I thought to myself "Alright, I don't even care, I'm getting down." One of the leading factors to this is that the chili dogs from a party the previous night and my coveralls were not agreeing to well. So I got down and walked down to the ridge line. I figured that I just couldn't see the deer from where I shot because he had fallen behind the ridge line and the grass was so tall. Well I kept walking and I didn't see it, nor a blood trail. I was heartbroken. Then I walked up on it and it scared me nearly half to death. I almost fell on my butt. I was just hysterical now. It had dropped exactly where it was when I shot it because I broke its back and hit a giant nerve bundle. I assume it died, if not instantly, relatively quick. With it laying there, the top of the rack same up a little higher than my knee. I rushed towards my dad's stand in the front. I ran into him in one of the little trails in between the fields. I said "Sorry, but those chili dogs from last night and these coveralls are not agreeing to well." He laughed and said alright. Then I said "Plus, we got to get this big ol' deer up out of the field back here!" He said "Did you get ya one?" I told him I did and kept saying how big it was but couldn't stress it enough. He told me the reason he didn't get down is because he could have swore the shot came from the 12 o' clock position to him, where as I was 9 o' clock to him.
As we walked back, I was nearly running, probably would have been if that .308 wasn't weighing me down. When we walked up to it, my dad just stopped. He said "Oh my gosh, Nathan! Do you know what you have just done?" I thought I had done something wrong, again! I had already shot the button buck, and the previous season gut shot a doe and my bolt broke on my .270 and I couldn't kill it, and 1 other mishap. Now I've messed up again! "What?! What?!" He told me "Dude! You have just shot the buck of a lifetime! Holy crap!" So we went and got my truck and drove to the back, both of us more excited than a opossum in a trailer park dumpster, and we let down the tailgate and I got up in the back, ready for my dad to hand me the rack so I could pull him up. He was not a very big bodied deer. Now this .308 has a history of going straight through the deer and keep going. Well when the tailgate bent the mid-portion of its body, blood shot out the exit wound like Mt. St. Helens. We didn't really know of a good taxidermy around so we drove to our normal deer cooler and asked them. There was a guy there who worked for Ronnie Bulloch down at RB's taxidermy. He does all the Team RealTree guys' stuff, Jeff Foxworthy's, and quite a bit of other famous people's. He is pricey, but his work is the best around. But anyway, we followed this guy to RB's as he was going back there anyway. Mr. Bulloch was an extremely nice fellow and spent a lot of time with me. So that's pretty much my story. Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed it. I do not have my mount back yet but expect to within the next few weeks, I will post pictures of it when I get it.
P.S. you can view all my photos of my deer in my album here. http://forum.gon.com/album.php?albumid=6416
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