A Boys First Hunt…..SW Wisconsin Whitetails.

Birthdays are great, Christmas time, even better. I will go out on a limb here however and say that nothing, NOTHING, can come close to the heightened euphoria a hunter feels on opening day.

My 12 year old son, Cam, was about to experience

this!

We were both excited, Cam for the obvious reasons, myself for the life long dream in passing on tradition and legacy to one of my own.

Tons of small boy questions were asked, many answered, a few left for the lad to figure out for himself.

Now, how does a father set up for a strapping, athletic youth to ensure an enjoyable first? Believe me, the thought process is not easy. After mulling over a few calibers, my brother Steve came up with a solution……outfit Cam with his Remington 760 pump 30-06 carbine, complete with a Simmons 3×9. Shorter rifle for a youth but still that butt kicking 06 power. Practice day went well, the gun did buck pretty good but was handled well. Told Cam not to fret it, when you are actually firing hot lead at a deer you won’t even feel it, in fact, you’ll probably have to think back just to recall how many rounds you fired at it.

Where and how to set up?

Do I set up with him for the opener or leave him on stand solo? As a Dad, naturally I wanted to be there, just like my dad was 36 years ago. Left it up to him but it turned out well, said he would feel better if I was there…..Whew!!

The last few seasons there has been a great looking ridge top that has been stand free. Attaching a 15′ ladder stand then hanging my strap stand directly underneath it made for a nice set up. The ladder, directly out from me was actually a great place to hang some gear and the snacks. Things were set and anxiety settled in. One week before season, and for the first time, Cam lost a bunch of sleep. Told him to get used to it, sleepless nights before outdoor trips will never go away, nor would you want them to. Yep, he was ready!

Opening morning, as throughout much of the state, fog! Pretty thick driving to our site but not too bad when daylight arrived.

After getting Cam harnassed up and settled I got myself situated. That is when a sharp pain was felt from the top of my head. OUCH!! Ever have a dropped 30-06 shell hit you point first on top of your melon from 6ft. above? I did. After hearing a sheepish, "sorry", I just rolled my eyes while mumbling something about kids and…..it’s rather funny now that I think about it.

An hour and 15 minutes sails by without anything spotted.

Then that warning snap-crack comes from directly behind us…..VERY CLOSE! Straining to see behind us I could see the doe walking calmly. Cam saw it too. Giving Cam the green light to harvest any deer, he spun and readied at the exact moment that I spotted the good buck behind the doe. Cam, shoot the bu……..BOOM! Too late!

The stag froze, unsure where the shot came from. Knew we didn’t have much time…….."Cam, shoot the buck, shoot the buck, SHOOT THE BUCK", I hissed!

Cams view was blocked by the bulk of our tree. The second after Cam exclaims that he can’t see it, every muscle in the bucks body tightened, ready to make just one leap that would have saved his life…….. Didn’t let it happen! Holding the crosshairs high on the vitals the 270. dropped him in his tracks! Cam saw that though. "OH MY GOD!! Dad, you got him"!

An instant feeling of bittersweetness set in. Oh, how I would have loved to have Cam make that shot, it just wasn’t there! Too good of a buck to pass up, one of the better ones claimed by my Remington throughout the seasons.

After the trembling and excitement cooled a little is when I remembered Cams shot on the doe. "Did you hit her Cam"?

"I don’t know", was his reply. "Were you on her when you squeezed the shot"? "I know she was in my scope", Cam said. As soon as that statement was made I had a sneaky suspicion that the doe was still bouncing across the forest floor somewhere, wondering what happened to that handsome ten pointer who promised her a night out on the town. Turns out, Cam missed her clean.

Having a buck laying below us, I descended and started sneaking the grounds. This was going to be the earliest that I have ever left stand on opening day. It felt great!The woods were damp – quiet, the drama replaying in my mind while taking a few steps then standing for a few minutes, slowly letting it all soak in……Wow!!

An hour into the stalk, two shots ring out in Cams direction. So much for the peace and quiet. A feeble attempt was made at trying to maintain my composure but found myself quickly walking in Cams direction. Cam was out of the stand when I got there…..a good thing, right?

Cam said, "I think I got him! Here, a small buck appeared fifty yards below, walking slowly into the shooting lane. Cam fired two shots. The second shot Cam said the buck kind of kicked up his hind legs. After searching for blood for close to an hour another miss was confirmed. Trying to explain to a boy about how everyone misses,…. these things happen,… lucky you missed clean rather than wound it, blah blah blah….. I knew I was talking to a young man who was ignoring my pep talk and was stuggling with the fact that he had just missed two deer.

Remember that feeling guys? I sure do.

Not a lot of action the remainder of the weekend. Did see one true trophy but not much of a shot, never saw him again.

Thanksgiving, opening days little cousin.

A third op for Cam came on this day. Having pushed two his way, Cam got off three shots. Pretty rapid shots so at least he was working the action well on the pump. Clean misses and Cam was now taking the brunt of the uncles teasing. "Mr. miss" they were calling him. He took it well, the kid was a trooper and with that award winning smile he would just say, "Oh yeah, well it’s uncle Steves gun that isn’t shooting straight"! There it was, the comical excuse that lightened the load a little and actually took a little pressure off……Between my father, and Cams two uncles, Jim and Steve, we were all having a wonderful time!

Friday…

A close family friend offered his covered stand for an afternoon-evening hunt. The property borders a huge expanse of private, seldom hunted land, a land that carries down into two huge valleys leading to the Mississippi river. Alot of deer!

Started looking around when we crawled up into this mini condo. Completely enclosed, sliding windows, foam blocks for cusions encircling the interior, hooks, shelves, you name it, it was there. My kind of hunting? Not necessarily but for the sake of getting Cam a crack at his first deer it didn’t take long to get use to the digs.

An hour goes by, very quiet. Breaking out the doe in heat call a series of ten bleats were made, the sound carrying down into the forbidden valley. Two minutes, tops, goes by and a young spike shows up. This little fella never even looked before stepping out into the field. His eyes and ears were straight up and he was looking. Finally coming to a stop he turns broadside. Cam was ready! So was I, having the best seat for the show I was positioned right over Cams right shoulder. "Ok Cam, settle in and put the crosshairs right on the front shoulder, slowly squee….."I’m on him dad!……BOOM….The young buck takes off, frantically I tell Cam to hammer him again……BOOM! The buck hits the ground harder than an Aaron Rodgers sack on any given Sunday!!

Wow, did that happen fast!

The look on my sons face…sorry, no words could do it justice. The hug and high fives are something I never will forget though.

The rest of the season was easy sreet. We did try to harvest a few more for family but Cam was back to his old ways on Sunday, missing a doe that he jumped in a brushy point. What did I do on Sunday, casually missed a running doe at two hundred yards in an open alfalfa field…….Hey, if it guarantees me another year like this one, I’ll take that Mr.miss title anyday.