The first hunt I can remember that wasn't road hunting happened when I was 4 or 5 (23 odd years ago).
My dad put me my younger brother and myself to bed. I asked my dad "what if we see a bear?"
His answer was simple and reassuring "we'll sneek up behind him and say boo!"
His buddy Rich showed up and we made the half hour drive to a spot we still hunt today. My dad and brother went one direction and myself and Rich went another. Around mid day we heard a gun shot. Rich and I made our way over to their area.
We met up with my dad and brother then went in search of the deer. It wasn't far into the trees and piled up behind a big blown over fir tree. My dad began the knife work on a little 2x2 mule deer. All the while me and my brother asked a million questions and my dad answered them all.
My dad finished up while me and my brother played with the guts. Being all proud me and my brother drug the deer for what seemed to be a long ways... still to this day my dad admits we did drag that thing further than he thought we would.
After we powered out, my dad and rich pulled it the rest of the way to the truck. That night we had tenderloins and told my mom and Rich's wife Susan the story over and over again. With sound effects and lots of exaggeration.
From the story from my dad on what went down...
Him and my brother were working a trail. My brother was mostly deaf due to complications with his adenoids. So he was stepping on sticks, caughing, jumping on frozen over mud puddles and just blabbing away. My dad spotted the deer just in some timber, not knowing how we'd react to him shooting a deer (we'd seen him shoot plenty of bears) he figured now would be the best time. He lined up and fired. The deer dropped and my brother got super excited.
Been flat out waiting for opening day every year ever since.
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