What was your first hunting experience?

[Quail_Antwerp]

Mine was at age 19, DH and I were engaged and he wanted me to experience something that he loved: deer hunting.

So we get all dressed up in hunting gear, complete with the neon orange, and being 19 I was not impressed! It wasn't exactly what I would call a fashion statement!

We are standing in the middle of a field (which is actually now the property we live on! LOL) and I pose a rather idiotic question (because I am already bored with the whole thing, not even 15 min in to the hunt!) "How long before we see a deer?"

DH replies, "depends, could be 15 minutes, could be an hour, might not see any all day!"

Those words were barely out of his mouth when 4 deer come trotting up the hill. I am facing them, his back is to them, and he has given me strict instructions not to move if I see any, so I am gritting my teeth and without moving my lips "Ernie! Ernie turn around! NOW!"

He turns around, and he sees them! Right in front is a buck, and behind him 3 does. He whispers "Don't move" I say "I'm not!" and he fires the gun!

Buck jumps and falls head first into the dirt! Adrenaline is pumping...wait, it isn't dead! The does have run off back towards where they came. E is screwing around with his gun, "Shoot!" I scream "Shoot!"

He screams back. "I can't! The gun is jammed!"

Buck jumps up and runs in the direction as the does.

And that was my first hunting experience.

 

[RTRChick]

AWWW, thats such a bummer QA!


My very first hunting experience,


I grew up a Daddy's girl, and always wanted to go hunting, but being soo little (in size) my parents couldn't find a gun for a good price that wouldn't kick. So one day we are at my dads friends restraunt and he heard about me wanting to go hunting but not having a gun. He leaves and comes back with a gun for me! I was sooo excited (I was like 9). So he and my dad make plans to take me.... squirrel hunting.

The morning we are going to go hunting my dad instructs me to be very quiet and to not even use my squirrel call. So my dad, his friend, and I all go out hunting for squirrels. And lo and behold we see one! I yell "daddy, daddy there's a squirrel!" My dad goes "well shoot it". But by then it'd already scampered off.

And that was the first and only time I've ever been hunting for anything.

 

[Farmfresh]

My first hunt was squirrel hunting with my grandpa - AND my grandma's papallion dog Judy.

I was about 10 years old. Judy was a feisty little dog - no one ever told her that she was a foofey dog - she loved to chase squirrels around the yard when she was outside and actually quite good at treeing the little critters. So I took up the "hunting dog's" cause.... I dinged grandpa to death. Finally he gave in to my pleading and I - armed with my bb gun - and the foofey dog, went squirrel hunting with my grandpa.

We entered the woods and I set the dog on the squirrels. The sun slithered downward dappling the ground beneath the tall trees. The dog was on. Nose to ground. Within minutes she treed her first squirrel. Now Grandpa was a believer! He took his shot. POW! The squirrel fell to the ground, but only for a brief instant... then Judy had it and she was off!

It took about 10 minutes for me to catch that little dog in the underbrush with her precious tattered squirrel, but I finally did. when I brought the kill back to Grandpa he tiredly tucked it into the back pouch on his hunting vest and suggested we try again. I agreed - glad he was not too mad.

Grandpa told the dog, "Find the squirrel Judy!" He told her many, many times. All Judy would do however is circle around to the back of Grandpa and eye "her" squirrel that was residing in his back pouch! Finally we gave up on using the dog and Grandpa decided to hunt in a more traditional manner.

But Judy did not change her tactics! She followed her squirrel the rest of the day until at one point we sat down to rest and the back pouch opened enough to allow the squirrel's tail to come out.

Wham! She grabbed it and off we went again on another underbrush chase. At the end of the day we possessed one maimed squirrel, one burr coated foofey dog, one tired kid and one MAD Grandpa.

That was my first hunt!

Farmfresh

 

[Homesteadmom]

Gosh I really can't remember my very first hunting trip. We lived back in KS & I believe it was for rabbit w/my dad on the farm we lived on. But not 100% sure. Here in AZ we used to go dove & frog hunting. For the frogs I would drive the truck along the banks of the cannals While everyone else stood up in the bed witht he gigs ready to strike. I also held the spot light as I drove(did this before I had a license)
I had fun & haven't had frog legs in a long time. I wish my dad would get back into hunting so we could have that stuff. Dh really is not into hunting, although he did do it a lot when he lived in WI. He has a lot of pics of his deer he bagged. But in all fairness the deer here are nothing compared to the ones in WI & he would have to drive 5 hrs or more to go hunting. Maybe once we move up north he will get back into it.

 

[plucky]

I grew up in a hard-core fishing family, and I can't remember my first fishing trip, but my first hunting trip was vivid. I didn't go hunting until a couple years ago at age 30 when, newly married, my DH introduced me to the sport. We'd gotten up early and sat for HOURS in the freezing cold, seeing nothing. I couldn't have been more bored. Or cold. About noon, we decided to walk across the farm to his grandparent's house, where they had hot cocoa and lunch waiting.

Crossing the hay field, while talking and laughing, hubby suddenly stopped dead in his tracks and whispered: "Shoot that buck."

"What?"

"Honey...turn around and shoot that buck."

"Funny."

Now DH slowly starts raising his gun..."NO REALLY...if you don't turn around and shoot it I WILL! He's standing RIGHT behind you and is fixing to take off!"

So I turned around, and sure enough, an eight-point had pranced out of the woods, and in an apparent suicide attempt, was standing no more than 75 yards away, broadside, looking right at us.

In a move straight out of Rambo, I flipped my rifle up off my shoulder and fired standing straight up. (I must also note at this point that I had a brand-new rifle, and due to a hectic work schedule DH had to sight it in for me, so I hadn't even shot the thing before.) Of all directions it could have gone, the buck ran across the field, across the dirt road, and straight up DH's parent's driveway, where he succumbed to his wound mere feet from the tree they use to hang deer for cleaning near the house.

I stood dumbfounded and a little teary for a minute...I think I was in "First Buck Shock" or something, but by the time we got to the deer I was pretty proud of myself. And hubby's family got a kick out of where the deer landed...

Apparently it was beginner's luck...last year I was skunked. This year will be different, now that I'm a "hardened veteran."

 

[dacjohns]

That is too much.

 

[Quail_Antwerp]

Oh wow! that was beginner's luck!!