My first deer was taken on opening day of my first hunt. I was 14, and we were hunting some open sage/draw country outside of Monticello Utah. About an hour into the hunt, a decent 3X3 came out of the draw about 100 yards below us. I still hear it plain as day as my dad says, "There's your buck boys, plaster 'im." I take the shot, and the deer doesn't react. My brother shoots and the deer still doesn't react. Long story short, my brother and I both emptied our guns without hitting a deer standing broadside downhill at 100 yards. As we're trying to reload, and my dad is laughing his ass off, the deer makes a big circle up around us and goes up over the rise. We hear one shot and a Yahoo! Now my dad has to sit down because he's laughing so hard.
For the next hour, I'm getting well-checks from my dad to see how the 'buck fever' is feeling. Then, he lights up a cigarrette, and starts hacking and coughing nonstop for about 20 minutes. I finally get so mad that he's scaring all the deer away, I move down the ridge a few hundred yards. About 20 minutes later, I look up, and I see horns moving through the sage coming up out of the draw headed right for me. I wait 'til the buck gets to about 30 yards trotting right past me, and get this, Actually hit him!
The buck goes down, and I've got my first buck. A 3X2 Utah muley, and I couldn't have been prouder. To this day, my dad still cracks up when he talks about how many times we missed that first deer.
WH