My First Deer Hunt

                                                               

I pestered them so long that my brother and his friends finally invited me on my first mule deer hunting trip. The hunt was in the afternoon in the foothills nearby, in Franklin County on the northwest side of the Oneida Narrow. It was about a 45 minute drive from the small town of Preston Idaho. That is the town that I grew up in. The majority of my hunting experiences took place just outside of that town.

Back in the 60’s, 70’s, and 80’s, hunting for us was all about the meat. However, we all talked about get ting the one huge buck to put on the wall for all to see.

I think I was 10 or11 years old.  I was very excited to be going hunting with my older brother and his friends from Pocatello, Idaho. My older brother Victor was six years older than me. I was a pain in the neck to Vic like all 10-years olds would be to a 16-year-old.

Vic grew up fast, being six-foot one and having the perfect build. He would and could run up and down the hills all day long and he loved every minute of it. My brother,is best friend with Bernie Voyles, Bernie’s older brother Bud and Terry Nichols went on the hunting trip with us. We had to get enough people to help pay for the gas. Otherwise we could not go hunting.

After the long drive, we got to the bottom of a hill. It was the biggest and tallest hill around. We thought that in order to find the largest buck with trophy antlers, we had to hunt on the most secluded mountain around.

At the bottom of the hill, we all piled into the old Powell truck I think it was made by Dodge and powered up the hill. Running next to the countless maple trees were long openings of sagebrush and tall grass. The road going up the hill did have some rough spots, but we arrived successfully at the top of the hill. Looking over the ridge, we noticed that one side was bare and open. It looked over a big ravine full of maples. Because it was October, many leaves had fallen off the trees, that left more openings so hunter like us could see well.

Victor and Bernie started down the ravine. Bernie was on one side and Vic on the other. Vic, from a distance, looked like an animal moving though the trees. He was weaving from top of the ridge to the bottom.  Vic was traveling very fast but working his side of the ridge carefully. If Bernie and Vic jump a deer someone would be able to get a clear shot. They worked the ravine well but there were on deer. I hoped to see one or two deer take off. Now Bernie and Victor were at the bottom of the hill and had to come back up the side of the hill that we couldn’t see. Bud, Terry and I had to make a new game plan.

Coming up the hill, there were a lot of maple trees and some long openings beside the maples. The next few moments are as clear in my mind today as when they happened forty years ago.

Having no gun, I was asked to brush though the trees. At my young age, I had taken on a necessary role in the hunt. At one moment, I was so happy to do it: yet in the moment I was scared to death. For instance, I could have gotten lost or a deer could have taken me If I jumped it.  However, this was my time to prove myself. If I didn’t perform well, there would be no more hunting trips for me. I had to do it.

I start off, all my thoughts and excitement pulsing in my blood and I am into this in and out of tree, hoping not to run into a deer. A deer jumps up it has horns. It’s a good buck shots ring though the air. The buck is hit and goes into a grove of trees. Somehow the three of us meet and start looking for the big boy. 

There is a lot of blood on the sagebrush and grass. I know we got him. But the older hunters know that it isn’t a sure thing in life; lots of deer have gotten away over the years. We are following the blood trail and three he is, a lifeless body. And then we realize we got him, and Bud made the killing shot. It is the biggest deer that Bud has ever shot and got so far in his life. We are all happy.

Bud starts cleaning out the deer. Bernie and Vic show up. Vic looks at the deer and says “You should’ve come my way. I would’ve loved to shot you.” I am very excited and I say a dumb thing like “ I will drag that deer to the truck,” and they all laugh at me. Because there was no way I could drag that deer two inches let alone two hundred yards.

This nice typical four pointer

That hunting trip was over. But there would be a lot more for us in the years to come.

That wasn’t the last big mule deer buck that Bud shot in his lifetime. Bud went on over the years  got a lot of deer, of which four of them made the Boone and Crockett, the four point typical class. The only hunter to do it in Idaho, Bernie went on to be one of ldaho’s best trap shooters.

My brother Victor worked and hunted for the next few years and passed away suddenly while hunting at the young age of 22 of a heart attack, doing what he loved in life.

I eventually got my trophy deer. It hangs on the wall to show my friends that I put my time in hunting, too.