Your First Deer — What Do You Remember Most?

C

Caleb Foster

Joined
Sep 17, 2025
Messages
2
Hey everyone,
I was thinking back to my first deer the other day, and it still feels like it just happened. I can remember the adrenaline, the shaky hands, and that mix of excitement and nerves right before the shot. It’s funny how no matter how many hunts you’ve been on since, that first one always sticks with you.


For me, it wasn’t even about the size of the deer — it was about the experience. The early morning, the cold air, and realizing how much work and patience it really takes to make it happen.


So I’m curious — what do you remember most about your first deer?
Was it a clean shot? A long track job? Maybe just the moment you realized you finally did it?


Would love to hear everyone’s stories — those first hunts are what hook most of us for life.


Good luck this season, and stay safe out there!
 
My first deer was early one morning, up in my climber, with my recurve bow. A nice medium size buck came down the trail and passed behind me, giving me a chance to turn and get ready for him to come out the other side. A quartering away shot, I remember thinking this is it, everything you’ve been waiting for, a perfect set up, don’t blow it. So nervous, but I had been practicing a lot so still confident. What i remember most is loosing the arrow, and seeing just the white nock move toward him in slow motion and then just vanish. He hunched a bit and took off. I knew it was a good hit and to wait and not follow right away.

Some minutes later I heard a crunch off in the distance and my heart sagged a little, thinking I had a long track pending, so I took a chance and decided to get down and look for any signs of a blood trail to get things started. And oh there was. The shot was a pass-through, and the arrow was on the ground about 6 feet off the trail, covered in bright red blood and goo. I followed the blood trail up a small rise and about 20 yards away, there he was, all done, piled up at the bottom of tree in some bushes.

Field dressing him (with a Ka-bar shorty if you can believe that. It worked just fine BTW) i saw his heart had a short slice one one side,. Later I was told that was probably why he hunched like that, a common reaction to a heart shot.

I remember it all just like it was yesterday. 18 paces from the base of the tree.
 
Was an El Niño year and we had a thunderstorm the night before. The wind was terrible, so decided to sleep in a bit. By 9:00, the sun was out, but the wind was still very strong. I remember sitting on a tall ridge, overlooking a fresh scrape. I was looking over to my right and thought to myself, “not even the chipmunks are moving in this wind”. I looked to my left and there was a buck moving through the clearing. I levelled my grandfathers old 30/30, cocked the hammer back, settled the iron sights just behind the bucks right shoulder and waited for him to put that leg forward. Dropped him in his track.
 
I had put about 3 week of solid hunting in the foothills region but was never able to connect. It didn't help that I was borrowing a rifle with a shot out bore. The day the season opened up in my home zone me was the first time I got to use my own rifle. We spent the whole morning only seeing moose which we didn't have a tag for. We did witness someone else shoot a moose and it was close to mid day so we stopped to help them gut it. We spent the rest of day without a sighting. About 10 minutes before end of legal shooting time a buck walks out of the timber into the field at a range of about 325 yards. I fired hitting the deer but it took off back into the trees. I heard the hit but didnt see where it was hit. All I could do was half an hour hoping it would bed down so I went back to the truck to wait it out. The whole time it was an emotional roller coaster wondering if I had wounded the deer and lost it. Wondering if I had screwed up the shot or overestimated my shooting abilities. On the other side of things I was so excited my hands were shaking and I could feel my jaw starting to hurt from the grin on my face. I do remember trying to open a can of pop but I had to pry the pop top open with a knife because my hands were shaking so bad. When the time came to go find the deer I was so nervous that we would not find it. My hunting partner sent me in alone to find it in case I bumped the deer. I had little to no experience tracking deer but I found the blood trail I started to follow. My heart was pounding like a kettle drum and I the lump in my throat could have choked an elephant. being dark already I knew if the deer was still alive I could not shoot it. If it bumped it was gone for good. The deer made it about 75 to 80 yards and was on the ground just inside the tree line. The deer was dead and the shot looked perfect. The feeling of relief washed over me like a wave. I mean I remember the feeling moving from my head all the way down to my feet. When we started gutting it we discovered the shot went through both lungs and nicked the top of the heart. I remember my hunting partner calling it a zombie deer because it was already dead while it was running away, it just didnt know it yet. I took the tenderloins home with me that night. I had no idea how to properly cook them. I made a potato, pepper, onion and tenderloin hash like dish. I overcooked the meat, the potatoes were under cooked but it was probably one of the most memorable meals I had ever eaten.
 
First you need to realize I grew up in the 70’s in the middle of nowhere in the Appalachian mountains and game was a big part of our food. And if you were local and didn’t waste it taking a deer out of season was over looked because people depended on it for food
My first deer was a button buck mid October . Was tucked back under a pine tree with a single shot Glenfield model 10 22 waiting on squirrels, rabbits or grouse. This little deer was feeding down a little trail at about 60 feet out. Hit it at the base of the ear and it dropped like a rock. Although I had helped gut several deer I remember thinking that there was a lot of blood
 
I had bought my first real bow. A Hoyt turbowhawk a couple weeks before the season. The shop owner let me come and shoot it and helped me get it tuned right for me every day after work up until opening day. I was ready.

Opening day came and I drove on top of black mountain in Kentucky from the Virginia side where my tree stand was at. I had just gotten off work and was exhausted but excited at the same time. A super dense fog was covering the mountain that morning after a nice little September rain and I just hoped I would be able to see the ground. It was awful driving up in it.

I had told myself if I didn’t see anything by 11 I was heading down so I could sleep before work. About 9 o clock the fog was still ridiculous but I could at least see the ground and a doe rolled in. She was a very large one and there was no way I was passing it up. I lined her up and shot and absolutely drilled her with a double lung shot. She ran about 20 yards and hit the ground.

The woods came alive, I could feel my heart beat in my ears but the squirrels and chipmunks and birds were drowning it out. I heard something else take off and looked and realized she had had two decent sized fawns with her. I wasn’t happy about that but they were well big enough to eat and I knew this deer would feed my mom and dad for a while. I started cleaning her the best I knew how from watching others and she was still full of milk……… it was rough for a first deer haha
 
You must log in or register to reply here.
Back
Top