P
patience
Guest
Dad and I went after it again this year. We always take the last 7 days of October to hunt the general season in southwest Idaho. I had dreams of finding a big boy up on top with all that good weather but dad wasn't up to hiking that high. He does good for being 62 though.
I spotted the smaller buck Thursday evening from about a mile away and on the way to get him Friday evening the bigger buck stood up. Dad saw him first. Here's the story on that kill:
We are walking a ridge line headed up to where the smaller buck is located. I'm below the ridge 30 yards so I can see to the bottom of the draw just come in to. It's always looked like a good place for a buck to be but I'd never seen one in there.
I notice my dad on the ridge line looking down and across the the draw with his rifle. He normally uses his binos so I figure there is probably something worth seeing. I instantly notice a nice buck walking up the opposite hillside. He more than likely heard us from the bottom and decided to sneak out as he was walking slowly and looking back at us.
Knowing Dad had seen the buck first I just watched and waited for him to pull on this buck. The deer turns broadside, heads up, no shot. He turns and walks up again. I look at my Dad and he looks like he's trying to control his breathing so I look back at the buck. He turns and walks again, he is now 20 yards from the top of the hill across the draw. I notice my Dad moving toward a stump to shoot off. I'm getting nervous he isn't going to make the shot. I look at Dad again who is now on the stump but still hasn't shot. As the deer tunrs to walk uphill for what I'm guessing to be the last time I pull the trigger....BOOM! The .308 drops the deer in it's tracks.
I lower the gun to my hip, turn to my Dad and say, "I'm sorry." He says, "for what?" I tell him I just shot his deer and he replies that I'm crazy he just shot that deer.
We both pulled the trigger at the same moment and didn't realize the other had fired. We walked over to examine the buck. I put a bullet between the rear hips and broke the spine, my dad put one between the front shoulders and out the neck. Both shots would have killed the deer. Dad saw it first so it was his buck. I drug it to the bottom of the draw and dad packed all the gear back to the truck. I stayed behind to quarter the buck.
When my dad returned and we were getting ready to walk out he says, "you know I was thinking about it on the way to the truck and I figure I shot that buck first." "Oh really?", I say. "How do you 'figure'?" He responds (and I'll never forget this), "Well, my bullets travel 200 feet per second faster than yours so if we shot at the same moment I guess mine got there first." I couldn't help but laugh.
I went up the next morning before my Dad headed up for the last of his deer and shot the buck I had originally spotted for him. Not the biggest bucks but a good time is all I can ask for and that is what I got. Hope you enjoy the pics, till next year.
I spotted the smaller buck Thursday evening from about a mile away and on the way to get him Friday evening the bigger buck stood up. Dad saw him first. Here's the story on that kill:
We are walking a ridge line headed up to where the smaller buck is located. I'm below the ridge 30 yards so I can see to the bottom of the draw just come in to. It's always looked like a good place for a buck to be but I'd never seen one in there.
I notice my dad on the ridge line looking down and across the the draw with his rifle. He normally uses his binos so I figure there is probably something worth seeing. I instantly notice a nice buck walking up the opposite hillside. He more than likely heard us from the bottom and decided to sneak out as he was walking slowly and looking back at us.
Knowing Dad had seen the buck first I just watched and waited for him to pull on this buck. The deer turns broadside, heads up, no shot. He turns and walks up again. I look at my Dad and he looks like he's trying to control his breathing so I look back at the buck. He turns and walks again, he is now 20 yards from the top of the hill across the draw. I notice my Dad moving toward a stump to shoot off. I'm getting nervous he isn't going to make the shot. I look at Dad again who is now on the stump but still hasn't shot. As the deer tunrs to walk uphill for what I'm guessing to be the last time I pull the trigger....BOOM! The .308 drops the deer in it's tracks.
I lower the gun to my hip, turn to my Dad and say, "I'm sorry." He says, "for what?" I tell him I just shot his deer and he replies that I'm crazy he just shot that deer.
We both pulled the trigger at the same moment and didn't realize the other had fired. We walked over to examine the buck. I put a bullet between the rear hips and broke the spine, my dad put one between the front shoulders and out the neck. Both shots would have killed the deer. Dad saw it first so it was his buck. I drug it to the bottom of the draw and dad packed all the gear back to the truck. I stayed behind to quarter the buck.
When my dad returned and we were getting ready to walk out he says, "you know I was thinking about it on the way to the truck and I figure I shot that buck first." "Oh really?", I say. "How do you 'figure'?" He responds (and I'll never forget this), "Well, my bullets travel 200 feet per second faster than yours so if we shot at the same moment I guess mine got there first." I couldn't help but laugh.
I went up the next morning before my Dad headed up for the last of his deer and shot the buck I had originally spotted for him. Not the biggest bucks but a good time is all I can ask for and that is what I got. Hope you enjoy the pics, till next year.
