willfrye027
Active Member
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- 373
Had a great week of deer hunting in my home state. Started off hunting the D zone I’ve grown up in. Took my buddy who is new to deer hunting and has never been backpacking. We hiked in the day before opener and made it to camp at dark. There were several other deer camps in the area, which always sucks, but I’d hunted the area so many times I had a good idea of where to be.
Opening morning we had a legal buck at first light 80 yards below us. I tried to get my buddy a shot but he was too slow and unfamiliar with his weapon. No problem, it happens. He was quite dejected and honesty I figured that was probably our best and only chance. That evening I had a nice forked horn come out to feed at 100 yards and I decided to take him. One shot from the trusty 30-06 and my tag was filled. I packed him back to camp and we had tenderloins over the fire.
Because we had a very long hike out, I decided we would hike most of the way out and hunt another area I’ve had success in the past. My buddy was able to take his second ever deer that evening, a handsome 3pt which he was thrilled with. I wish I could post more of the pics but they unfortunately have too much background.
He was thrilled with the hunt and experience and we created some lifelong memories.
We packed out early that morning and I re-packed for an A zone hunt with my uncle. This is his spot passed down to him from his father. My uncle has been hunting there for about 50 years now; it’s my 6th year in that deer camp. Opening morning he took a very nice buck for the area and I helped him back it back to camp. The next morning he hunted with me and I passed on a 2x1. Passing on deer is not something that he or his father would have ever considered. I had one more evening to hunt and was starting to get an earful about ruining our 5 year streak of tagging out together. Well, the 2x1 reappeared below me at 75 yards and I decided to shoot him in the back of the head. We meticulously quartered him and took the liver at my wife’s request. It was 6 years in a row of us both filling tags, which in his deer camp, matters a lot more than the size of the antlers. And I am OK with that.
I wish I could share more pictures of the memories, but it’s no longer 2005 and I can’t afford to burn my own spots.
As much as I love traveling to hunt out of state where the grass is greener, there is something special about the opportunities we have as CA residents. It’s a different style and mentality, but it has some incredible value and will always hold a special place for me.
Opening morning we had a legal buck at first light 80 yards below us. I tried to get my buddy a shot but he was too slow and unfamiliar with his weapon. No problem, it happens. He was quite dejected and honesty I figured that was probably our best and only chance. That evening I had a nice forked horn come out to feed at 100 yards and I decided to take him. One shot from the trusty 30-06 and my tag was filled. I packed him back to camp and we had tenderloins over the fire.
Because we had a very long hike out, I decided we would hike most of the way out and hunt another area I’ve had success in the past. My buddy was able to take his second ever deer that evening, a handsome 3pt which he was thrilled with. I wish I could post more of the pics but they unfortunately have too much background.
He was thrilled with the hunt and experience and we created some lifelong memories.
We packed out early that morning and I re-packed for an A zone hunt with my uncle. This is his spot passed down to him from his father. My uncle has been hunting there for about 50 years now; it’s my 6th year in that deer camp. Opening morning he took a very nice buck for the area and I helped him back it back to camp. The next morning he hunted with me and I passed on a 2x1. Passing on deer is not something that he or his father would have ever considered. I had one more evening to hunt and was starting to get an earful about ruining our 5 year streak of tagging out together. Well, the 2x1 reappeared below me at 75 yards and I decided to shoot him in the back of the head. We meticulously quartered him and took the liver at my wife’s request. It was 6 years in a row of us both filling tags, which in his deer camp, matters a lot more than the size of the antlers. And I am OK with that.
I wish I could share more pictures of the memories, but it’s no longer 2005 and I can’t afford to burn my own spots.
As much as I love traveling to hunt out of state where the grass is greener, there is something special about the opportunities we have as CA residents. It’s a different style and mentality, but it has some incredible value and will always hold a special place for me.
