I pulled back the bolt, threw it forward, and shot again. Then again.

Deer hunting. We got out to our spot early, well, early for us anyway. Usually too tired, we don’t get out to our deer stands until sunrise or after, not the hour or so early as some die-hards do. My dad, brother, and I decided to arrive 15 minutes before we could shoot. We were hunting East of Emmaville in a wooded area off of a main road. A friend of ours has land there that he lets us hunt. When we got there it was just light enough to see. The smell of a cold winter morning has a smell all its own, like you just pulled some grass out of the freezer. We got ready by the truck as quietly as we could. It’s amazing how loud putting on some winter clothing can be. A zipper seems to chug like a freight train when I’m trying to be quiet.

Finishing up with the last of my warm clothes and quietly grabbing my gun, I was getting increasingly nervous and excited.

“You ready?” my dad asks me.

“Yeah, I just need to throw on my mittens because I’ll probably be sitting a while and you know I’ll get cold.”

“Good idea” my dad says with an agreeing chuckle.

It was deer hunting a couple years ago. This memory is important to me because hunting is something I really enjoy and look forward to every year. I have been out hunting annually since I was eight. Traditionally, I’ve gone with my dad. When my grandpa was in better health, before he passed, he would hunt with us as well, or I with them. We either hunt by Two Inlets or Emmaville, depending on the year. We usually have to wait for a very long time to see any deer; does or bucks. There are sometimes exceptions, but it seems like we spend a lot of time out in the deer stands, waiting and watching, but this story isn’t like other years.

We were all ready. I started walking towards my stand, quickly and quietly. My dad and Ridge walked the other direction towards the camouflage ground blind they were hunting out of. There was snow on the ground but not in the air, and it was very windy. Thankfully, the snow was soft and quiet as not to announce my arrival. I followed the same path I walked when we were out there to set out attractants for the deer a week earlier. I was surrounded by mostly big pine trees with an occasional poplar. They danced like the wind was playing a slow song for them. I saw my big boots pushing the snow down and breaking sticks along the way. I tried to chose the path with the least amount of noise-makers and obstacles to get to my stand. I had arrived at my destination. Carefully and steadily, I climbed my ladder stand while I looked around more at my surroundings. I could see the paved road we came in on as well as my dad’s red truck. The white and green pole shed my dad and brother were hunting in front of was also in view. From where I sat, the road ran behind me, the truck sat back and to the right, and the pole shed stood in front of me to the right. Straight ahead of me laid woods with a small lake in the distance. I got as situated and comfortable as someone can in a deer stand and tried to be as still as possible in order to not scare away any deer…

I had been sitting up there for about a half an hour when I heard a faint twig snap. When I sit in the woods for hunting, I always hear things I think are deer, like squirrels, the wind, and birds. This time it actually was one! A big buck was walking down a trail from behind me to the right and headed right towards me. I took off my mitten and felt the cold metal of the gun. I slowly brought my gun up to where I could get a good shot. I remember thinking of what my dad told me about which direction I could shoot.

“I’m going to have to wait to shoot until he gets in front of me,” I thought to myself, “that way I’m not shooting towards the road.”

The huge, 10-point buck was onto the trail I walked in on. Going along sniffing each of my prints in the grass like a bloodhound, he was getting closer and closer to my stand. He’s making sure it’s safe to be walking through down that trail. He froze. I froze. We stared at each other. It was probably less than a minute, but it felt like an eternity. I thought I was made and he would turn and run. He then put his head down and kept following my path right to the bottom of the ladder to my stand. I saw him either sniff or lick the bottom rung. Then the second. I had been as still as a statue for a record amount of time. I must have been doing a good job or this deer was just stupid because he climbed the bottom two steps! With his front two hooves, he hung on to the rungs. His back two hooves were still on the ground and he stuck his neck up as high as he could to look at me. If I had reached down holding my rifle, I could’ve touched his nose with the barrel. I didn’t do this, of course, and so began another staring contest. Once he was satisfied that there were no apparent threats in the tree, he stepped down and headed down a trail that lead farther into the woods. I slowly lowered my gun. I thought to myself, “if he turns around broadside, I’m shooting him.” That was exactly what he did! I shot once. It felt good, but the deer ran straight into the woods in front of me. As he weaved through the trees, I pulled back the bolt, threw it forward, and shot again. Then again.

I ended up getting him, and it turns out I hit him with every shot. I became very nervous when we started looking for blood as none of us could see any. Losing hope and confidence in my shot, I continued to search for red anywhere on the ground. Finally my brother yelled that he had found it. I ran, elated, over to where he was standing. My buck was laying there behind a tree where we couldn’t see him until we got close. I was in total disbelief. This was the most exciting and nerve-racking hunt I’ve ever been on, but I hope every year it keeps getting better.