Opening day of the deer hunt is always filled with excitement and anticipation, even more so when it’s your first hunt.
I had already hunted for some years with my husband before our oldest son joined us. This season would be the first hunt for our second son, Steven. Since we hunt in a MN state forest, we are a little apprehensive on opening morning if some other hunter will be in the area we’ve scouted.
All is well as we approach our stands this November morning. We wish each other success and a safe hunt as we disband, each to our own stands.
It’s an overcast morning with average MN November temperatures (cold). The darkness slowly subsides and the dawn breaks. I take in my surroundings and am thankful to be in the woods on this calm, peaceful morning.
There are occasional shots in the distance but none close enough to be one of my fellow hunters. It is late morning and I’m cold and stiff when I’m suddenly jolted by a single nearby shot. YES!!! It’s from Steve’s direction. I calm my excitement to sit quietly, watchful in case a deer heads my way.
After a time, I make my way down from my stand and head in Steve’s direction. His stand is a distance from my area, on a very wooded, slight hilltop with the ground covered in moss…hence the nickname we use, Moss Ridge. As I approach, Steve is standing in his deer stand with his rifle casually laying across his arm.
“Where’s your deer?” I ask.
He replies “I figure about 2 miles from here by now” in a very disappointed tone. He relates the story. Four does, on a nice trot, passed right in front of his stand, quiet on the mossy hillside. He got a shot off at the last one as it passed him. I chuckle silently to myself at the visual of his story.
“Well, come down Steve and we’ll check it out”. When we get to the area where he thought the deer was when he fired, sure enough, sign of a hit.
As we follow the faint blood trail, I’m hopeful my son has bagged his first deer. Suddenly, the deer jumps up in front of us. Steve confidently brings up his rifle and fires as the deer is bounding away from us. The shot drops her in her tracks.
The thrill and excitement of my son’s first hunt culminates in his bagging a nice doe. He has since taken many deer, including a couple of nice bucks. But nothing can match the memory of being a part of his first deer, standing alongside of him as he takes down that doe.
Posted in honor of Steven’s birthday…Happy Birthday, Steve!

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