Personal Narrative: My First Deer

I slowly pulled back my bow,on the biggest buck i had ever saw in my life.I had a twent

The next Monday coach gave us practice off so I headed home again. That night I went over to my brother's house and borrowed his shotgun because it had a fully rifled barrel with a scope. This gun was much better than mine. While I was there we talked about where he had shot his deer and where he had saw other deer. I headed home that night with little hope that I would actually get a deer at all. It was really cold when I got up the next morning. I headed out to a spot near where my brother shot his deer. As I walked out the snow covered ground crunched under my feet. I got set up in my spot and settled down for the wait. I was sitting there for about forty five minutes when I heard a noise.

is here and the duck calling begins. We are looking right, left, forward, and up. A gun shot is heard from guys hunting in the blind in the woods. After this lovely sound, the excitement bar is raised. We look around some more; a pair of mallards are spotted. Dad and grandpa call even harder. This will be Reyce and I’s cue to place our hands on our guns and get ready. Once they are in shooting range dad yells, “now!”. Everyone pops up with adrenaline running. Depending on where the duck is, depends who will shoot. If a duck is knocked down the “dog”, also known as me, fetches the dead duck. Occasionally it will not be fully dead. We will have two choices, shoot again or grab it by the head, swing the duck around, and break its

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 I watched the does it looked like they were playing a game of tag. I slowly got out of the truck and leaned against the side of the truck. Looking through the scope I put my cross hairs on the doe. When the cross hairs were on the doe I shot. The doe ran out of my sight but I believed I had shot her. We waited for about ten minutes to make sure she was dead. Although my grandfather talked to me while we waited the time stood still. Finally my grandfather said, “It is time to head out and look for the doe.”

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

Exposition: Bam! That's when the deer fell, well, a fake deer at the shooting range because I was just practicing. It was a cold fall afternoon and I made my dad drive me to the shooting range so I could learn how to shoot a bow and arrow.

Since the day I turned six years old I have been in love with the sport of hunting. My love for hunting started when my dad took me with him for the first time when I was five. As we sat in the cold, dark forest, my young mind could not be any more excited as I took in the sights, smells and sounds the forest offered to me. That particular hunt we did not get lucky enough to harvest a deer, probably due to the fact that I could not keep still, but I did not care I loved the placidity the forest provided to a hunter. Hunting had become a major part of my life and I did not even have my license yet.

I thought to myself, "Surely it won't rain today." Another hour went by and down came the rain. It didn't slack up for hours. Suddenly though, it seemed I had a slight change of luck. Staring into the pouring rain, I saw two eyes glaring at me from the far right bush. Could it be? I might actually kill my first deer! Slowly, he made his way to the middle of the field. He looked to be about a five-point buck. My dad placed his overly large gun up to my shoulder and told me to hold tight. I placed the target on the deer and pulled the trigger. After a big bang, off the deer ran as my shot missed its

I'm staring down the barrel of my savage 243. In my sights is a beautiful buck. He's relaxed slowly grazing at the alfalfa in the field. My heart is racing, adrenaline rushing through me. As I slow down my breath and prepare to take the shot I start to think. If I do this, if I take this shot, I will now be a hunter. I will have taken the life of another animal in order to able to feed myself and my family. I take one last breath brace for the kick of my gun and put my finger on the

I woke up early to go hunting, but my brother had to go with me. So, JJ and I went hunting. I saw a deer and shot it with my bow that I made out of a tree branch. I got the fur from the deer and made boots, gloves, and a coat.

I love it. The hiking across large open lands. The excitement when I find the perfect target. The rush of pulling the trigger. The success to walk up to my prize. I love hunting. Many people think hunting is a sport for boys only, but I don’t. Hunting is a super fun way to spend quality time with my dad, and it’s one of the things that makes me special. I love telling my stories of my trips.

I remember the time my brothers and Sean and I went goose hunting. It was one of the best times of my life. We woke up early and went out to the field. My brothers and Sean and I got settled in the blind and loaded our guns.

When I was around 12 years old I went to visit my father’s mother at her home in a village in Acapulco, Guerrero. Once there, I had an unforgettable experience. I met a bull for the first and only time in my life, and I realized that bulls are not always the aggressive animals that almost everybody thinks.

One Luminous and Sun-drenched morning, my father had a significant idea of going hunting to one of our secret hunting spots, I was all in for it. I rushed around the house very dexterous of all of the things i needed for the day, jumped in the truck and gave my friend a call, to invite him on a trip up Mauka. after we had left his house, we started to head up the mountains, but i had forgotten my shoes, so quickly we turned around and headed back down, i had a abysmal feeling that it was not going to be a good day.