My first deer hunt

I was thinking about this as I drove to work in the dark this morning. I was a cool morning and cloudy, and just made me think of the trip up to hunt.

I was 12 and finally old enough to go big game hunting here in Montana. I have been out several times with my Dad to the rifle range to get the 270 (Voure Arms Mauser 98 Military, Sporterized) he bought me sighted in and ready to go. I had even spent several evening helping (and learning how to) reload for it. I was ready to go and excited. I didn't sleep that well due to the excitement. Finally fell asleep and it seems like only seconds till my dad was shaking me telling me it was time to get up. I rolled out of bed groggily and quickly got dressed. It was a cold morning with about 2 inches of fresh snow on top of already 6 inches. I got into my snow gear and headed down stairs. My mom had hot chocolate ready so I got a mug full for he trip up. I checked and double checked to make sure the bolt was in my rifle and I had my box of freshly loaded rounds. I could hear the 72 chevy suburban running out side. I threw my gear in the truck and climbed in up front next to my dad. My older brother climbed in back. It was colder than I thought and the defroster was having trouble keeping up. My dad's friend Bruce (who I have learned so much from!) showed up and off we went.

It was dark and cloudy out, with a touch of snow falling. The truck was finally warming up as we headed out of town for the 45 minute drive. We only saw a couple cars on the road, and you knew it was hunters heading out to their opening day spots. We finally turned onto the two track that led through the field and up the first hill to where we would park. It struck me that we couldn't see anything that wasn't in the headlights. Kind of like a tunnel effect. We got to the hill, and my dad climbed out and locked in the hubs. Kicked it into four wheel low for the climb up. It still amazes me today how steep that hill is, and they have improved the road. We made it up with out chains and dropped down a little on the other side of the ridge and parked.

I bundled up, and climbed out just as the first hints of gray where showing on the horizon. It was going to be a cold day. (The high turned out to be about 4 degrees and the low had been -10). My dad took me up over the ridge to the north and set me down with some trees behind me on a noll overlooking the draw running up to the mountains. He then positioned my brother and then took up a positions himself where he could see me but still have a clear shot if needed. Bruce headed back down the hill to push the deer out of the fields to us. I only saw some does, but my brother shot a nice buck.

I never did shoot anything that day, but I had so much fun. I was a great memory of hunting with my Dad and brother. Every year for 6 years my Dad, brothers, and I (and usually Bruce) spent opening day up there. I will hopefully return again this year (didn't make it last year) with my Dad for another hunt. And whether or not I get anything, I get to spend time with my father who is a great friend to me. The memories will last a lifetime.