My first was a pheasant and my first big game was a black bear from a ground blind while hunting deer. There used to be an open seaon on blackies during deer season but now it is a seperate season and license(more money for the gov't)
I'll always remember the hunt with my uncle.
The year was 1967
The place was the Ruby Mountains at the Idaho border in northern Nevada.
The rifle was a Savage bolt in 30-06.
The 3 point mulie dropped at the crack of the rifle.
After he was down. I stood there and stared at him wondering what to do next. I ended with assistance from my uncle after many frustating quesses.
I have been on many hunts since and have many great experiences.
I remember firing the very same rifle the first time.
I had already won awards for target shooting with a 22 LR.
We were at the range to teach me how to shoot a high power rifle so i could go on a deer hunt. The first round I pulled off. gave me a wallop and brought tears to my eyes. After that I knew what to expect.
I'll never forget my first big game animal. Up until the day I got the deer, I had been having a terrible season, the weather was awful, a lot of the deer were skittish, they were hard to find, it wasn't going good. Then about the 6th or 7th day of the season, I set up on some power lines in a long clearing, I was way up on top of a ridge, and my deer just suddenly ran into the opening. I brought my rifle up, 7mm Rem Mag, 160 grain Noslers ( terrible choice for a deer), and rested my elbows on my knees, and with my first shot, the deer dropped like a stone, but with his head up. He started flailing about, the brush down where he was obscured my view of him since he wasn't standing up. Then his front end and head came up, and I snapped off a second shot, killing him almost instantly. When I got down to him, I found that the reason he flopped around like that was the first bullet struck him in the spine, toward the back of his body, which must have paralyzed his rear end. My friend came down to where I was, he heard the shots, and helped me drag this heavy lug of a deer up two very steep ridges and out onto a cattle road.
My first small game animal was the very abundant western squril known as the Rockchuck. Me and dad spent many many days sitting in the hot summer sun here in Washingtons scablands waiting for a shot with my .22. After many many MANY Rockchucks and a few ground squrrils added under my belt I went deer hunting for the first time. I took grandpas old .300 Savage. Opening day was one I will never forget. On the edge of a wheat feild in the early morning light a big white tail doe passed by at only 10 yards. And being a greedy little kid all I wanted was a buck; so I passed. Then after thinking that I might not get a chance like that again I took the next shot and missed a doe. Then later that evening after a long walk I took a rest and shot and missed again!!! The second shot wasn't quite as lucky for this doe though. I had connected a 275 yard shot on my very first deer. It was a perfect double lung shot. Apon the arrival to my deer I realized she had an antler. Not bad for my very first deer. I shot a 2 point white tail doe.
There it sits. Alone and forgotten in a desk drawer or maybe in the bottom of your hunting pack. The lowly compass. Primarily initially replaced by the hand held GPS and now even by the new “smart” cell phones that include GPS, electronic compass – even real time imaging on aerial maps! Once the friend of every hunter and now the companion of few. It is not glamorous or glitzy, that is for sure… no bells and no whistles. Aaaaah, but let’s not rush to forget our...