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Hey guys, this is the time of year where we need to start getting prepared for the best time of year. No it isn't Christmas... it is deer hunting season...

What I want to do is have as many people tell their stories of how they got their first deer. Just take some time and write them... or if you already have it written just copy and paste it into the forums here.

Then when we get a bunch maybe I will add them to the magazine section of our website under First Deer Stories or something like that. If you have a photo that would be a nice way to spice it up.

So if you have a story you can just reply to this right here and post it.

Looking forward to reading them... :dwoohoo:
 

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How is it that this topic got posted and not one single story made it here?

Well here's mine......
In November 1975 I went to Crystal with three of my Uncles on our yearly deer hunt. Since drives weren't allowed we posted hunters on tote roads and let the "pumpkin people" push the deer around for us. I ended up sitting a stump up a twitch trail that had tracks running both ways.
Well it wasn't long before I heard those tentative steps only a deer can make as it moves about..sensing danger. At that time we could still take either sex... and this one was a fat doe. I had only a 12 ga. at the time... so I raised old "PP BUSTER" and put the bead on her neck. At a mere 15 yards or so....it was an easy shot and she nearly folded in her tracks. She managed one or two good bounds and crumpled into the frosty leaves. I still remember the steam of her last breath... and that strange quietness that settles over you.
My Uncles weren't long coming at the shot and saw me standing over her dressing her off as they had taught me in the previous seasons. All three "big he-men" hugged me and admired my deer.

Although not a buck and no horns to brag on ...she would provide much needed meat for my family and myself. My Dad's disabilty check and Mom's poor wages never seemed to stretch as far as needed. But for awhile we would have venison to go with those "Surplus Goods", us poor county folk depended on back then.
Those days have left a lasting impression on me..... I refuse to waste a meal... and clean my plate no matter what.
 

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well ok then. back in 1993 a friend of mine comes to the house the 9th of november and say's let's go hunting i know where a huge buck is hanging out so i said all excited ok lets go. it was a warm day warmer than usualle id say i only had on a orange t-shirt and camo pant's no scent loc. to warm i thought but i did have some buck lure with me. no one ever said to never put that on your body i had it rubbed on my arm's, my hat and my pant's. we had walked a long ways so i sat down on a stump in the sun and was about half asleep. when all of a sudden thus crash beside me almost made me jump over the moon....a deer thought he'd attack me well i wasnt as a sleep as he thought i jumped to my feet grabbed my mini 14 i had across my lap and popped him twice between the front leg's...my friend is like 60 yard's away laughing his butt off...best eating little 5 pointer i ever had lot's of memories with that one...the head hang's some where in fayette on my x-wife's wall....top this one :!:
 

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This is an old post but figured I'd share mine. It was the last day of the season in 1992. My uncle handed me his BrowningA5 loaded with buckshot and said to keep pulling the trigger until the deer was down. He told me to stay by this stone wall and that he'd do a loop and come back to me. He was gone about 15 min when I started to hear those branches break and leaves being crunched. It wasn't long before a big doe came flyin over that stone wall. I took his advice and put the bead on the deers chest and kept pulling the trigger until it went down. I think it was going down on the first shot but I gave it 3 or 4 more. I was shaking like crazy! He came out laughing asking me how many I had down from all the shots. I pointed proudly at the downed deer and he just smiled and said good job. I'll never forget that day!
 

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About thirty years ago.

I was hunting just south of Houlton on a farm that bordered some big timber. It was an evening hunt and I'd parked in one of the back fields and made my way up into the woods on an old logging road.

Back in those days, scent control wasn't a thought that crossed my mind so I'd wear the same hunting coat throughout the season drenched in sweat and deer lure I'd squirt right onto the coat.

I'd been stump sitting on a log and it was closing in on dark so I figured I'd call it a day and start making my way back to the car. I hadn't gone very far when something caught my attention from behind me. I looked back and saw a nice buck (got no idea how big it really was but it could have been a monster with my limited experince at that time, but it was a good buck) closing in on the log I had just vacated.

I had been there spitting tobacco juice all around me-not to mention the deer lure I'd squirted about. That deer came right up to the log I'd been sitting on, caught a whiff of something it didn't like...me...and back-peddled. It stuck its neck out and started toward the log again, the deer lure was that good. Must have been peak of the rut.

At some point I decide I might just as well take a shot...wasn't very far off, so I do and I miss. The deer runs off at an angle and stops, I shoot again. Another miss. The deer runs off in a short zig before he zags pattern and stops...miss again.

At this point the deer is far enough off and I'm green enough with no shooting skills, I'm running after the deer. I trip and fall, get up and try to jack another round into my now jammed Marlin 30-30 and succeed. Another shot and another miss. Tolerant deer stands there for one more shot and I complete my final miss of the day. Five rounds at what I'm sure was a nice buck, tolerant buck. Never cut a hair.

They still make the deer lure and I still us it, true believer after that episode.

I got that deer...in my memory. I'll never forget it.
 

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Hunting with my Dad about 6 years ago. It was around 1pm. I called to see if he wanted to join me seeing I was getting out of work early and had a couple of hours to hunt. Anyway we meet at my favorite spot and walk into where I've harvested many deer. It is a small grassy wet area next to a ridge full of spruce trees. I told him to sit on this blow down and I was going to walk the edge of the ridge and come back to get him before dark. About an hour and a half had passed and we saw nothing. I ended up coming out on the northern side of this little clearing he was sitting in. I waved to him letting him know I was ready to leave. We meet and talked for a while and I said jokingly do you know which direction back to the truck. He said sure follow me. You have to know my Dad when it comes to directions he is horrible. Anyway I start to follow him out and as we are about to step back into the woods headed for the truck I have this habit to look back towards where we just walked. To my disbelieve there stands a buck on the southern end of this little cutout about 100 yards away. My Dad is still walking, cracking branches and I'm pretty sure talking to himself thinking his way back to the truck. I finally got his attention and pointed across the opening. His eyes turn to the size of sanddollars and raises his rifle. Now I'm between him and the deer. I proceeded to slowy drop to my hands and knees and he shoots the biggest buck of his life. 10pt 186 lbs. It was a day I will never forget.
 

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Another good story, sort of. I read a lot about deer and their quest for survival. I read that big bucks seem to move between the hours of 10am and 2pm. So this day I decide to hunt a power line. I hunt with a 30-30 Marlin, 4x scope and over and under sights. I'm standing on the side of the power lines with the wind in my favor. Around 2:40 I spot a 8pt that had come from the same side I'm standing and headed to the opposite side. It has to be 180 yards away and at first I said not a chance. So what do I do, raise the gun a see if I can hit this thing walking acorss. I shoot once and it turns and heads back to the same side it came from. I shoot again still nothing. Shoot for the thrid time and he stands about 150 yards from me trying to decide what the heck is going on. It decides to keep coming back to the side it came out on. To make a long story short, 3 more shots all over 125 yards and this deer had no idea where these shots are coming from. I opened up my fanny pack and had 2 shells left. I wait until it gets about 100 yards away on the same side I'm standing and emptied my gun. By now I'm shaking my head trying to figure out what the heck I'm doing wrong. To shorten the story, the next day I went target practicing and found I had hit my scope and was off by 7 " to the right. Lets just say it wasn't one of my best days of hunting.
 

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6 years ago now was when I shot my first and only deer so far. I was only 14 at the time so I had to hunt with someone else (my neighbor). He had taken his deer the weekend before so had no purpose in wasting family time to go out with me, but he told me he would go out one more afternoon to try to get me a deer. The day was coming to an end so we took our final stand leaning up against a giant old pine on top of a hill. The same spot he took his spike horn from the week before. With about 15min left in legal hunting time two doe walked out about 75yrds away into a little clearing in the woods. The shot was too far for me to make with my limited range for my shotgun and not so great aim as we discovered with the 3 deer I had shot and missed earlier in the season, one of which was broadside at 10yrds. Anyways the deer were headed right for the bottom of the hill I was on so Randy made me hold off on a shot until they got closer. I was shaking like a 4yr old jacked up on espresso, I couldnt control my knees which pere practically smaking off each other from how much I was shaking and my hands were just as bad. I finally was able to slowly move my legs straight out and cross them to cut back on the shaking. There were only 5 minutes left in hunting time now and the deer were still a little out of range just munching on some acorns but still making their way over. Lucky for me the big doe came into my shooting lane at the bottom of the hill just a mere 40 feet away or so, I raised my gun and put the rifled sights (my dad's friend gave me his extra rifled barrel after hearing about my misses using the bird barrel) on her just behind the front leg and squeezed the trigger. I dropped her/ parralyzed her. I shot a little high and caught her square in the back bone, but I sprinted down the hill and gave her a quick kill shot. as we got ready to gut her out the doe she was with just stood there watching us for a minute or two before she walked off like I didnt even shoot her sister. She ended up weighing 117 lbs with the heart and liver. I have seen many deer since and missed a shot or two as well, but I will never forget my first deer and will never stop hunting regardless of how long it takes me to get my second deer.
 

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I shot my first and only (so far :cool: ) on youth day in 2007 in Caribou. I was 13 and eagar to get out as my brother had shot his first deer (4pt) the year before. My father and I got out early into a spot we had scouted during the summer and found a decent number of does and a nice 5pt. At the time, it was legal to shoot a deer of either sex on youth day even in Northern Maine so I was looking for anything. As we crept into an old cut at first light, I spotted some movement about 200 yards away. Sure enough it was a deer so my father and I started belly crawling until we got about 125 yards away. I rested my .270 on a stump and dropped the deer. I thought it was a doe because it had it's head down when I shot it but too my surprise, I had shot the 5pt. My brother came over to help with the drag and it took the 3 of us 2.5 hours to get him out.

5pt 135lbs

 

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My first deer was at age 12. We where on leave at my grandfathers house in NJ my pop ( grandfather ) and I where behind the barn picking up when he looked up and told me to look there was a nice 4 point in the field eating the fallen corn he handed me his 30/30 and said get him I very excited took the rifle stood tall and fired at the vitals the deer jumped in the air about 30 feet ( I was 12 and it seemed like 30 feet to me ) he then took off ran for about 40 yards and dropped. Pop gave me the keys to the truck and said you shot it you go get it. I did just that. The skull cap and rack still hang on the barn to this day. Not a b&c rack but my first thanks to my pop...
 

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1987, 10 years old, night before thanksgiving. Dad, a guy from camp, and me. They placed me on a stump on the edge of a clear cut and then they lost me. They were supposed to just cut around and come back. Not sure what happened, lol. Not sure what time it was but it was getting close to dark.. I heard crashing and saw a deer running left to right. Raised my 30-30 and snapped a shot at it. One shot, through the backbone, and it was down. I started yelling like a kid at a football game! I finally stopped yelling and hear my dad. "Keep yelling, so we can find you!" They did, nice little spike buck. I will always remember that day and the thanksgiving, and always joke with dad about it every year war onus thanksgiving. First and only deer. Hoping to remedy that soon!
 
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