American Whitetail

    

My first buck, a 6 pointer

    In honor of deer season opening up October 1st, I thought I would blog about my experience as a hunter. I started hunting about 4 years ago because a family friend invited us to hunt with her. My dad was super excited that my sisters and I were more than enthusiastic about the idea, my mom on the other hand wanted no part of it because she grew up in the city, where animals were friends not food. 

     

    Anyways, my dad took us shooting to make sure we knew how to use our crossbows and our rifles so we would be safe up in our deer stands. I loved spending the day with my dad because he was so proud of us, it was some serious father-daughter bonding time, which will also be something I cherish forever. 

   

     After experiencing my first hunt I fell in love with it, not just with the ability to harvest an animal, but the long days sitting high in a tree stand, the early morning Casey runs to get donuts and chocolate milk, and especially watching the sun rise and set. Hunting is almost always an all day ordeal for us, we get in our stands about an hour to an hour and a half before the sun rises and we left our stands right after the sun sets. To me there is nothing more beautiful nor peaceful as the outdoors. I could watch squirrels run up and down trees all day, or look out for raccoons looking over my shoulder. (That happened once, I got in my stand early one morning and once the sun rose I saw a little shadow and a raccoon was sitting on the branch above me.) I love feeling the cool breeze on my face along with the morning mist. I believe the only I don't love is losing feeling in my toes when it gets a little bit too cold. 

    

Nothing could ever replicate the adrenaline rush I get when a huge buck comes walking into view. I get a little shaky but line up my shot. Then the next thing I hear is the string of my bow releasing with a loud snap and the deer takes off. My nerves go off the charts when I then have to have 15-20 minutes to search for my deer. They never get super far because I hit them right where I need to. My favorite part from my first harvest was talking to my dad on our walkies to tell him I got a deer, in his voice you could hear his excitement. When we got the deer all loaded up in the gator to bring it back to the house I was full to the brim with pride. 

When it came time to field dress him, my dad and my friends dad helped me open the buck up but they told me I had to do the rest, which was a whole new experience for me because I have never cut something open except for a cow eyeball in a science class. But I made it through and we got it strung up to drain it. This was one of my most rewarding and one of my best days.