My First Hunt

I’ve never hunted. Not once, until this year. It’s not that I have some moral issue with it. It was more of an issue of never getting the chance. Plus, I had friends and family who had family/commercial/hobby farms, and often provided fresh meat.

When I was growing up, my best friend’s father was/is a man I look(ed) up to. My father had his own skills, but said friend’s father was a skilled mechanic, and taught me a lot of things in that respect. He’s still my go to for knowledge, but I’ve learned to do a lot myself this far into my adulthood.

He once told me, “If you’re going to own a car, you should know how to work on it.” I thought this was a valid point. A couple of years ago, a friend said to me, “If you are willing to eat meat, you should be willing to harvest it yourself.” I can see the logic in that.

Genesis 27: 3-5

3 Now therefore take, I pray thee, thy weapons, thy quiver and thy bow, and go out to the field, and take me some venison;

4 And make me savoury meat, such as I love, and bring it to me, that I may eat; that my soul may bless thee before I die.

5 And Rebekah heard when Isaac spake to Esau his son. And Esau went to the field to hunt for venison, and to bring it.

I took my weapon, a Marlin 336 chambered in 30-30, took to the field, and hunted for venison.

I had intended to make it for my first hunt years ago. Things always happened. The latest was the landowner, where I was going to hunt, had a serious medical emergency.

This year was no exception, once again complications threatened the hunt. Instead, I did my research, took my hunter’s safety again as a refresher, and asked the landowner, my friend, if I could go hunt, on my own, and request help should I be successful (which I did not expect to be).

A watched pot never boils, and no plan survives first contact with the enemy. Both platitudes seemed to have some bearing on the situation as I was successful when I least expected it, and I had no plan beyond going out.

I had to chuckle some, on my way out to where I hunted I saw truck after truck filled with men in expensive camo, carrying expensive guns, heading out to (presumably) expensive/elaborate stands on the last days of hunting. As I mentioned, things came up and I was heading out on a Monday, the second to last day of this years regular rifle season.

On the opposite side of the spectrum, there was me dressed in my favorite Stetson (which was replaced during the hunt in favor of a blaze orange cap to keep me legal), a wool jack shirt (which was later doffed when the sun came up), wranglers, and a pair of Abilenes (my favorite boots). I do not own fancy hunting things. The blind is built from scratch. It’s nothing fancy, but beats sitting out in the weather.

I took with me a book, by Louis L’Amour, some jerky, and my Marlin 336 chambered in 30-30 Winchester with a Nikon Buckmaster II scope. Honestly, the scope is probably overkill for the rifle, but I like how clear the glass is. I genuinely like Nikon products.

It was chilled when I got to the blind, but as the day wore on it got unseasonably warm. Nothing too crazy, but warmer than you would expect in late November, about 60 degrees.

It was getting close to the end of the day, the sun had dropped behind the hill to my west. I had about given up and I reached for the door of the blind. The door has a small plexiglass window, which can be opened.

Through the window, I saw movement in the distance. At first, I honestly thought it was a dog. I used a pair of binoculars to confirm. Instead, I discovered it was a small deer. I mean, beyond small. Looked like a big dog.

Obviously, I was not going to shoot that for so many reasons. I decided to just watch instead. Eventually, a large doe came into sight, followed by others. I did not know how many at first.

Because of the big doe’s location, I was at an odd angle. Luckily, I’m ambidextrous, as are a number of my family members. About half of my family are lefties, and the other half are split between ambis and the minority righties.

I transitioned my rifle to my “off hand” (I can shoot with either hand, but I prefer to shoot long arms left handed), lined up the shot, and began to track the doe. She was still moving, and never actually stopped, though she slowed a couple times to either sniff, or eat, something from the forest floor.

Eventually, she came to a point between two trees where she presented herself broadsided, and hesitated to once again sniff, or eat, from the forest floor.

Adrenaline was high, and all I could hear was my own blood pumping inside my head. I prefer to wear ear bud hearing protection, so the added pressure led to an uncomfortable feeling.

I have been in extremely stressful situations before involving a firearm, and that experience took over and I was able to calm myself. Then, I squeezed the trigger.

The 30-30 doesn’t have a huge kick, when properly shouldered, but my odd angle caused me to not have the best control over the recoil. As such, it moved the gun just enough I briefly lost my sight picture, and saw the doe run away.

She appeared to still be in range, I racked another round with the lever and prepared for a second shot. That’s when I realized I was seeing other deer outside of my scope.

I had closed my left eye at first. Normally, I keep both eyes open. I am left eye dominant. Having to transition to my off hand, I was now having to aim with my right eye. As a result, I had to shut my left.

But, I had opened for a moment to assess my surroundings after taking the shot. That’s when I became aware of the other deer, half a dozen or so, all of them does, or maybe button bucks.

I could not take the second shot. I was no longer sure I was looking at the same deer. That decision ended up being extremely smart.

“Know your target, and what’s beyond it.”

I did not know my target at that point, and I could not shoot.

I did chase after the deer as I thought I saw running like it was injured. Moments later I found two small drops of blood, which I assumed was confirmation. I could not see the forest through the trees, as they say.

I chased those deer for quite some time. Eventually, I realized there was no way “my” doe was among them. She could not have made it that far with the amount of injury she should have suffered. After all, I had found blood. And yes, it was blood.

Eventually, I returned to the stand. I remembered, just before I took the shot, I saw, through the narrow sight picture of my scope, that I had seen two small trees on either side of my vision. I figured, if I could recreate what I saw, I could find my doe. I scanned the area with the scope until I came across what I saw around my doe. It was definitely a different direction than I chased the other doe.

Hindsight being 20/20, it all made sense. Blood reacts in predictable ways and can indicate direction. The two droplets, though not decisive, did not necessarily support chasing the doe I did. When I found my direction with the reevaluation, I quickly found my doe in the bottom of a dry creek bed. There was so little blood, I believe she died instantly. This is a theory we proved upon field dressing the deer.

After measuring, the shot was about 126.2 yards, measured by use of GPS, through dense woods. I was not too worried about shooting, as I know I’m a decent shot and put a lot time in at the range.

The next problem was, she was big. She was by no means the biggest thing I have ever seen, but also nothing to sneeze at. More than big enough to keep me from loading her onto an ATV, an old red Honda Foreman. Yes, it’s a Red Foreman. If you don’t get the reference, than we may not be able to be friends.

I was excited. It was my first hunt. I was on my own. I got a deer.

Now, this was not some thrill of the kill thing. Killing should not be taken lightly, in my opinion, even when it’s “just an animal”. The food chain is a legitimate thing, and we are at the top of it. When we eat meat, we get nourishment. I am thankful for that animal, it’s sacrifice, and the ability to feed my family. This is fresh, clean, healthy meat, which is free of steroids, additives, preservatives, and never kept in a cage of its own filth, is about as “organic” as you can get, if you’re into that kind of thing.

Genesis 10:9, KJV: “He was a mighty hunter before the LORD: wherefore it is said, Even as Nimrod the mighty hunter before the LORD.”

The doe was dressed, and processed, and now my family will be sustained by fresh meat. As I work, struggle, and strive to improve myself to support my family, now I can develop a skill to feed them as well. It is good to take care of your kin.