Descriptive Essay : The Stump Deer

Many people have misconceptions about hunting. One such misconception is that hunting is easy and any person can go sit in the woods and wait for an animal to cross the hunter’s path. However, people who believe this are sorely mistaken. Hunting is not just sitting in the woods with a rifle; there are many other aspects that must be considered. An individual must have all preparations complete, purchase or gather the equipment needed, and know what to listen for while in the woods.

Would you ever want to kill someone because they are valuable and famous? No right? Well that's what is happening to animals and some people are just having to pay $500, don’t you think there should be more? According to Star Tribune the only punishment for killing deer when it is not deer season is only $500. That's not enough for killing animals and making the become endangered. Therefore, there should be a bigger consequence for poaching for because it leads to endangerment of animals and animals should not be used to make things that we want.

The rustle of leaves get my blood pumping , my cold feet tingling and the sounds of birds chirping as the sun starts to shine through the thick fog over the trees. I get out of my truck load my rifle and head for the trail , as I get to the front of the trail I stop and pray thanking the lord for blessing me to be out here on this beautiful morning and that he watches over me while I’m out here. I head back on the trail as I think to myself “ where am I gonna hunt ?” well i just kinda walk until I find a place I like as I walk down the trail, the sun is starting to shine through the trees which means I need to hurry up.

The third Saturday of November was one filled with conflicting emotions: excitement, fear, optimism, and nervousness. The screeching sound of the alarm at 4:00 a.m. initiated a sense of panic and thrill throughout me; it was the opening day of the gun deer hunting season. Within minutes, I was dressed from head to toe in bright, blaze orange that could be recognized from miles away. I reluctantly, yet willingly, climbed into the truck to head to the hunting land in Adams County, Wisconsin. My stomach felt like it was tied into knots. My mind was again flooded with conflicting emotions. I began to wonder: will I get a deer? Will I not get a deer? Will I get a buck?

It was starting to get daylight out when we started to see deer. We seen many doe and a few bucks. We were sitting on the edge of a corn and hay field. I got cold so my uncle said to curl up in a ball and cover your face so I can get warm. I moaned to him can we got to a different spot? He said yes because I kept bugging him. We got up and went over the ridge to the truck. We hopped into the truck and drove to the other side of the field to get into the woods. I got out of the truck and

At my Step Dad's, Chad, we sometimes go deer spotting at night or day. It's really fun, but there was this one time that will I remember, and will never forget.

November twentieth twenty fifteen I decided I was going to go hunting the following morning. I asked my grandpa for seventeen dollars to get a deer tag. He then told me, “No, girls don’t hunt. It’s a guy thing” ,which made me mad. I began to search the house for any money I could find. I couldn’t find anything so I gave up. I then asked my grandma to convince my grandpa to give me the money. Finally, after ten minutes he gave in and gave me the money. I was so excited and couldn’t wait to get up and kill my first deer in the morning. I layed in bed trying to get some sleep for the big day, but it looks like I was too excited to sleep.

To Hunt and gift a deer can be a long and difficult process, short and easy process, or it could be a mix of both. It all depends on the day, time, weather, and most importantly of all, deer. Sometimes a person tag out within minutes of the beginning of opening day. Other times a person will see three deer all of which are out of shooting range.

“Do you see that?” My dad, Rob said to me in a dull, quiet voice. As I looked into the distance from where we were crouched I saw the whitetail deer he was referring to. We watched as it picked acorns from the tall grass just above the tree line. I did not think I had ever seen a whitetail that big. I just couldn't wait to get home and show mom the size of this deer my dad was about to shoot! It was then that he handed me the gun. “This one's yours’’ My dad whispered to me. I took in a deep breath and scoped up the beast that I could finally call my very first kill. Once the deer was in my lineup I held my breath, steadied my arms, and pulled the trigger. As we started our trek toward the dead deer we discovered a boundary separating me from my newly earned prize. I stared in dismay at this small yet dangerous article. My dad being the prepared person he is pulled out a pair of wire cutters from his

Deer hunting in a family tradition which my family has continued throughout the generations. My dad and I make the drive to complete our yearly custom. Every year, we make our way to the silent cemetery, driving past the gray headstones and searching for the one. We finally stop, get out of the car, and walk up to the medium sized headstone with the name “Reller” splayed across the front. On the cold slab of stone, is a picture of a deer and the names of my grandparents. We send up a quick prayer to our beloved ones and make our way down the dirt road to our home.

The cabin on the outside was rickety looking, it looked as if it was made fifty years ago. The cabin had a tin roof and on each side of the cabin it had two dusty windows. It also had pelts of animals hanging from the door, and the walls that probably haven’t been touched in years. The inside of the cabin was however, nice it had a kitchen with a working stove, wood burner, and a table. The cabin also had a couple hazel colored couches and a aquamarine colored recliner.

This was my first time hunting alone. I was on my own, on my four wheeler, rifle on my back, and backpack on the four wheeler rack. I was headed to a new spot, only a few miles from my home in Rockwood. My hopes weren’t very high seeing what had happened every other hunt I’d ever been on. I had arrived at the spot to park my four wheeler and start my trek to the field I wanted to hunt through the over grown forest and undergrowth and brush thickets of briars. As I walked through thicket after thicket my patience began to diminish. I thought to myself, “how much farther of a walk is this, if I’m even going the right direction”. I was starting to wish I hadn’t decided to go hunting that evening. Although I had my regrets, and doubts, I returned to the slow stalking and sneaky pace.

After a long day of teaching, I bolted to the parking lot, turned up my CD player, and quickly drove home in serious need of some tree-stand therapy. I dressed in my camo, grabbed my weaponry (which included my newly-equipped LED-nocked arrows), jumped back into my Jeep, and headed to the woods!

It was a crisp December morning as I woke up at 5:00am and prepared to go deer hunting. The sun had still not peeked over the horizon, and the snow continued to fall as my dad, brother and I started the drive to Chaseburg, Wisconsin. My uncle David that is not from around here is also meeting us down at our hunting land. As we drove on the back roads we were seeing deer in the fields, which was a really good sign.

It was about a 15 minute drive to my Father's hunting shack on my grandparent’s land, when we got there my dad pulled me aside.