Personal Narrative: My Experience Of Hunting

Once we got to our land which was about 9 miles from where we were staying in Faulkton, SD. My dad dropped me off on the edge of a mile long tree grove. My dad said “if you see anything let me know, text me don't call.” I jumped out of the pickup and started my long walk through the trees. As I walked through the cold and snowy trees trying to kick up a deer I heard the snap of a twig about 25 yards to the left of me. When I looked I realized that it was an impressive 12 point buck that was rubbing his horns on a tree and breaking off some small twigs. I got down on my knees as slowly and Quietly as I could without spooking the massive deer away. The deer didn't even notice me as I sat

When i was a young buck back in the day my dad bought me my first bow i was so excited.The next day we went to L and M and bought arrows feild tips and a relese, then we went home to target practice. I was shooting at ten yards i missed the target and i hit the lawnmower tire, my dad grounded me for two days.

Of all the hobbies out there one of my most fond hobbies would have to be duck hunting. It’s something that nothing else in this word can compare to. Chasing ducks is something that’s been in my blood for three generations now. From a very young age I’ve been very into the sport. Duck hunting is a passion that comes deep from my family, from my dad to my grandfather we’ve all become obsessed with the sport. Wading through the flooded fields and timber of the Mississippi delta, and shooting ducks is something that will never go out of style to me.

At 17, a muzzelloader elk hunt in Navada was one of the best things to have ever happened to me in my life. A tag for the Jarbidge WIlderness Area is one of the best spots for it too. It all started out on the 500 mile drive out to destination, followed by 2 solid days of scouting the ranges for elk. Archery season was just ending when we were starting so the elk had some pressure but not as much as in rifle season. There were plenty of bulls that were well worth of shooting so we felt like we had a good chance of getting one. On opening day, a Thursday, we got on 3 nice 5x5 and 6x6 bulls with my dad and my uncle spotting from a ridge away but we either had no shot or we spooked cows before we could shoot. That day I put of about 15 miles and 2,000 feet of climbing. That night we re-fueled and slept had for the long

In the fall of 2012, I had just completed a six hour hunters education course and my father finally deemed me ready to hunt. Hunting is a tradition that has been in my family for generations. My grandpa taught my father how to hunt, and finally it was time for my father to teach me. “Once a Gerace gets his first kill, he earns the responsibilities of being a man,” That is what my Grandfather told my father many years ago, and now my father told me. Later that week, we found out that we were drawn for javelina hunting, although the hunt was not until February. For the next four months I spent every weekend at the shooting range, the determination I had for getting my first javelina was unmatched. I never wanted anything more in my life.

Leaves have all transformed to different colors, pumpkins are being hunted down, and the smell of Fall is brewing. October is here. It is not the costumes, carvings, or delicious caramel corn that gets me all hyped up, it is the opening day of duck season. Duck hunting is one of my most cherished times to spend with my dad, grandpa, and younger sister. I started tagging along with my dad at about three years old. At that age, rather than handling a gun, I handle some crayons and a coloring book in the back of the blind. Five years later I was able to start shooting on my own and still continue to.

My first year of high school I had a great opportunity that helped me grow up into the person that I am today. I had the opportunity to go on a moose hunt in Vermont. Growing up in Upstate New York where moose are a rare occurrence I knew this would be one chance to ever get to hunt a moose and maybe my only chance to ever get to see one. My trip started with a four hour car ride through the Adirondacks to Lake Champlain and then Burlington Vermont. The first day me and my dad woke up after spending the night in Burlington we got up bright and early to meet our guide for the hunt. He lead us to the camp we would be staying at for the next week. We were right on the Canadian border in the northeast corner of Vermont. There was not much in this

Everyone kills, and everyone eats. Not everyone eats what they kill, but these remain two of the most intimate forms of communing with our environment, whether we recognize them as such, or not. Almost 40 000 Americans are killed each year as the result of homicidal, accidental, and suicidal uses of guns; in all, Americans wielding guns intimidate, wound, and kill hundreds of thousands every year. These were the kinds of ideas impressed upon me as I grew up in my urban home: Guns were beasts, as were knives, arrows, spears, indeed anything could become a weapon if held in a particular way. We sprayed each other with the hose instead of water guns, and spent many long hours as a family "communing with nature" through long walks on the

Jim here, Uncle Jim some call me. My story from several deer hunting years back goes like this: I have a saying about shooting at deer. You sight your gun in and make sure it hits where it should. So I am usually late gettin’ this done. I have a Thompson Center 54 cal. muzzleloader. Usually shoots right on so I was not to worried about it being right on. So the evening before deer season opened took my target to a safe shooting spot set up sandbag and thought I would shoot about 2 times to make sure it was still on. I had ten 54 cal. bullets. I have always said you better make your first shot count so if it takes nine in the target so be it. Well I shot 9 shots all over the target and could not get it sighted in. Gave up went to put my gun in the truck and the front fell off. Found the problem of not a good group of shots. Too late to get any more loads so I called a friend and said I should meet him on the hill where I am going to hunt and borrow a bullet from him. That problem solved, back to my front sight. Well I put my sight on my gun centered it on the barrel and scotch taped it.

As a child of a coon hunter, I personally love the sport. But there is more to it than just the sport that I love. When I started getting into hunting and showing hounds, I was about 12. Not because I was forced to, but it was because I watched my Dad do it and I wanted to be like him. So I started off at YEP events. I did everything I could there. If there was a field race, I entered my dog. If there was a treeing contest, I entered my dog. Did I do all of them? No, because I would be at another event when the one I signed up for was. I was either in it or watching my sister. When I started hunting more than anything, I started at a YEP event also. I hunted a dog named Jeb, he was my mom’s hound. In my first competition hunt ever, I had won high scoring male and second place. I was knocked out of first because of 25 circle points.

Centered around the problems of rape in college, The Hunting Ground is a documentary that follows stories of many young women and men who had some of the most important things stolen from them. Virginity, dignity, respect, or an environment where they felt safe. More than 16% of women are raped while in college. With the number only increasing, this documentary was created to showcase the corrupt system of colleges handling these cases and give insight to what actually happens to the victims.

My number one and dominate passion is deer hunting with a bow. If I could turn this into a business venture of mine, I would enjoy every single day at work and not take any days off. I think it would be an amazing idea because first off, I love to hunt. Therefore I would be doing something I love every day through hunting season and prepare throughout the spring and summer months to be ready when the first day of the season rolls around. Second, I would be traveling, learning new things and meeting new people along the way, as well as teaching others the tricks and the trades that I have used along the way. The steps I would take to start this business would be very tough but it would be accomplish able with dedication and hard work. The first

My second hunting weekend was about to begin, I was pulled out of Library class at CCE and came home to find out I wouldn’t be leaving until five or six o'clock because one of my dogs had eaten some pills she shouldn’t have.

Dove season opened last Saturday, September 3rd. Opening day was amazing in my personal opinion. Several of my friends and I went to a field in Wren that one of their uncle6

Once upon a time there were two friends. Their names are Trent and Kaleb. They loved hunting. It was December 5, 2018, and Trent and Kaleb were at their Grandpa David’s house. Kaleb asked Trent, “Do you want to go hunting this weekend?” He said, “Sure why not?¨ ¨I will pick you up on December 7, 2018 at 5:00 am.¨ “That is this Saturday morning,” Kaleb said,“That is opening day of first season shotgun.” Saturday morning he came and picked up Kaleb. They went to the Schmutte farm. They were after this huge buck named Ole’ Charlie.