Calif_Mike
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LAST EDITED ON Oct-12-10 AT 09:56PM (MST)[p]Hey guys here is my wife's story of her first buck taken here in Calif a few weeks back. Hope you all enjoy.
Calif_Mike
The long anticipated story is now told?
Ugh, the alarm. It's not even light yet, what am I doing awake? It's 4:00 AM Saturday, September 18. Not for the last time that day I wonder to myself, why am I getting up before the sun just to make an excruciating hike to the top of a mountain only to sit on the cold, hard ground and stare at a deserted hillside? Don?t let my negative internal monologue fool you; this is an exciting day. Opening day of deer season is by far one of the happiest days of the year. I've prepared and planned for this day. I've shot targets until my shoulder is a mass of black and blue bruises. My loving husband has toiled over my brand new 300 Winchester short mag, cutting down the stock to fit my short-armed 5?2? frame. This is an amazing day, a fabulous day, but at 4:00 AM I'm in a slightly more ?glass is half empty? kind of mood. But, I digress.
The morning really isn't so bad; it is warm for September in the Sierra?s. So, I slide on my boots, jeans and fleece, pick up my rifle and backpack and head for the truck. My husband and father-in-law soon follow. After the short ride partway up the mountain we all pile out and prepare for the hike. There isn't much moon but I stare up at my nemesis and take a deep breath. I try not to think about the mile long, thousand foot elevation climb I am about to begin. This is my third year hunting with my husband and father-in-law. Every year I am certain the mountain gets taller. ?I hate this climb?, I mumble to no one in particular. My husband, Mike, smiles ? he knows how I feel. And away we go!
Finally reaching the top, I take off my heavy pack, change out of my sweat soaked shirt and spend a moment catching my breath. Again, I ask myself, Why am I doing this? Then I prepare to sit in the cold and wait.
It is already 6:00 AM and it is just getting light enough to start making out shapes on the hillside. At this time of the morning I have the hardest time staying awake. One of our on-going jokes is that I would shoot more deer if I wasn?t looking through my eyelids. I think everyone is entitled to a power nap once in awhile. I try different techniques for staying awake: counting, singing in my head, thinking up survival scenarios, that kind of thing. Usually nothing works; between one blink and the next I will be having an amazing dream. Today, however, I do not have any problem staying awake whatsoever. Once the sky is bright enough to make out details, I think, I should practice picking out objects uphill with my scope. I decide against that; I've got plenty of time to do that later. Cynical right? Not really when it has been three years and I have never seen anything on this mountain earlier than eight. Well, I suppose I should have listened to my mom when she said, ?Never say never?.
It is a few minutes before seven. I am patting myself on the back for successfully staying awake for nearly an hour. We hear the first shot of the season. I turn to Mike (we sit together) and say, ?maybe they missed and the deer will come our way?. I really should quit my job and become a telephone psychic because that is exactly what happened. Not even two minutes later a beautiful buck comes trotting through the trees 30 yards away to our left. We aren't prepared for it to come from that direction because deer never come from that direction here (there we go with that ?never? word again). I hear Mike say to me, ?there he is babe, shoot it, shoot it?. As he says those words, a second, don't-even-have-to-think-about-it, beautifully legal buck trots up right behind the first. They both stop and stare right at us. Mike is frantically whispering a montage of, ?shoot it, SHOOT IT?, in more and more urgent tones. I think this is a perfectly wonderful idea, but remember when I said earlier that I decided I had lots of time to look through my scope? I look through it now and see a big blob of black. Yes, I did, I forgot to remove my rear scope cap. In what felt like hours, I fumble around trying to figure out who invented scope caps and why aren't they easier to open while I spew forth a very eloquent stream of, ?sh**, sh**, and so on?. I hear Mike take a shot at the same time as I figure out that the bright orange button on the scope does in fact magically open the cap. I look up and I see my buck. He is heading away from me up the hill a few yards. All I see is neck and butt. I decide I can't take the risk of missing or worse just injuring the deer so I wait. Thankfully, the buck figures he should check up on the status of his buddy and he turns around to look. That is all the opening I need. I level my rifle over his heart and take my shot. At least that is what must have happened because one second I am looking at his chest and the next second I hear a loud boom and I am racking in a second bullet. Unfortunately, I have to lower my rifle in order to get enough leverage to do this. When I look up, I see my buck running across the top of the hill, ?he's getting away!? I tell Mike in anguish as I put my rifle up to take a second shot. Vaguely I hear Mike tell me ?no he's right there? pointing to the location where I sent my first bullet. ?No,? I insist, ?He?s getting away!? I continue to track my buck with my scope as he runs further and further into the distance. Firmly Mike tells me, ?No! Your buck is right there? pointing to the left ?I shot him a second time because he was trying to get up. My buck is there,? pointing to the right, ?behind that fallen log. Don?t shoot it!? ?Fine? I say, finally getting the hint that the buck I am watching is a third buck that was with the other two. It had successfully remained hidden until it was spooked by our shooting. I turn and look at Mike; we both have the biggest, cheesiest grins on our faces.
?Congratulations, babe!?
I did it! My first buck! I am shaking; nearly in tears, I'm a girl, I am so excited. At last I know why I take this brutal trek every year to the top of the unforgiving mountain. And, it is so worth it!
Now for the good stuff?the pictures!
Calif_Mike
The long anticipated story is now told?
Ugh, the alarm. It's not even light yet, what am I doing awake? It's 4:00 AM Saturday, September 18. Not for the last time that day I wonder to myself, why am I getting up before the sun just to make an excruciating hike to the top of a mountain only to sit on the cold, hard ground and stare at a deserted hillside? Don?t let my negative internal monologue fool you; this is an exciting day. Opening day of deer season is by far one of the happiest days of the year. I've prepared and planned for this day. I've shot targets until my shoulder is a mass of black and blue bruises. My loving husband has toiled over my brand new 300 Winchester short mag, cutting down the stock to fit my short-armed 5?2? frame. This is an amazing day, a fabulous day, but at 4:00 AM I'm in a slightly more ?glass is half empty? kind of mood. But, I digress.
The morning really isn't so bad; it is warm for September in the Sierra?s. So, I slide on my boots, jeans and fleece, pick up my rifle and backpack and head for the truck. My husband and father-in-law soon follow. After the short ride partway up the mountain we all pile out and prepare for the hike. There isn't much moon but I stare up at my nemesis and take a deep breath. I try not to think about the mile long, thousand foot elevation climb I am about to begin. This is my third year hunting with my husband and father-in-law. Every year I am certain the mountain gets taller. ?I hate this climb?, I mumble to no one in particular. My husband, Mike, smiles ? he knows how I feel. And away we go!
Finally reaching the top, I take off my heavy pack, change out of my sweat soaked shirt and spend a moment catching my breath. Again, I ask myself, Why am I doing this? Then I prepare to sit in the cold and wait.
It is already 6:00 AM and it is just getting light enough to start making out shapes on the hillside. At this time of the morning I have the hardest time staying awake. One of our on-going jokes is that I would shoot more deer if I wasn?t looking through my eyelids. I think everyone is entitled to a power nap once in awhile. I try different techniques for staying awake: counting, singing in my head, thinking up survival scenarios, that kind of thing. Usually nothing works; between one blink and the next I will be having an amazing dream. Today, however, I do not have any problem staying awake whatsoever. Once the sky is bright enough to make out details, I think, I should practice picking out objects uphill with my scope. I decide against that; I've got plenty of time to do that later. Cynical right? Not really when it has been three years and I have never seen anything on this mountain earlier than eight. Well, I suppose I should have listened to my mom when she said, ?Never say never?.
It is a few minutes before seven. I am patting myself on the back for successfully staying awake for nearly an hour. We hear the first shot of the season. I turn to Mike (we sit together) and say, ?maybe they missed and the deer will come our way?. I really should quit my job and become a telephone psychic because that is exactly what happened. Not even two minutes later a beautiful buck comes trotting through the trees 30 yards away to our left. We aren't prepared for it to come from that direction because deer never come from that direction here (there we go with that ?never? word again). I hear Mike say to me, ?there he is babe, shoot it, shoot it?. As he says those words, a second, don't-even-have-to-think-about-it, beautifully legal buck trots up right behind the first. They both stop and stare right at us. Mike is frantically whispering a montage of, ?shoot it, SHOOT IT?, in more and more urgent tones. I think this is a perfectly wonderful idea, but remember when I said earlier that I decided I had lots of time to look through my scope? I look through it now and see a big blob of black. Yes, I did, I forgot to remove my rear scope cap. In what felt like hours, I fumble around trying to figure out who invented scope caps and why aren't they easier to open while I spew forth a very eloquent stream of, ?sh**, sh**, and so on?. I hear Mike take a shot at the same time as I figure out that the bright orange button on the scope does in fact magically open the cap. I look up and I see my buck. He is heading away from me up the hill a few yards. All I see is neck and butt. I decide I can't take the risk of missing or worse just injuring the deer so I wait. Thankfully, the buck figures he should check up on the status of his buddy and he turns around to look. That is all the opening I need. I level my rifle over his heart and take my shot. At least that is what must have happened because one second I am looking at his chest and the next second I hear a loud boom and I am racking in a second bullet. Unfortunately, I have to lower my rifle in order to get enough leverage to do this. When I look up, I see my buck running across the top of the hill, ?he's getting away!? I tell Mike in anguish as I put my rifle up to take a second shot. Vaguely I hear Mike tell me ?no he's right there? pointing to the location where I sent my first bullet. ?No,? I insist, ?He?s getting away!? I continue to track my buck with my scope as he runs further and further into the distance. Firmly Mike tells me, ?No! Your buck is right there? pointing to the left ?I shot him a second time because he was trying to get up. My buck is there,? pointing to the right, ?behind that fallen log. Don?t shoot it!? ?Fine? I say, finally getting the hint that the buck I am watching is a third buck that was with the other two. It had successfully remained hidden until it was spooked by our shooting. I turn and look at Mike; we both have the biggest, cheesiest grins on our faces.
?Congratulations, babe!?
I did it! My first buck! I am shaking; nearly in tears, I'm a girl, I am so excited. At last I know why I take this brutal trek every year to the top of the unforgiving mountain. And, it is so worth it!
Now for the good stuff?the pictures!
