I'm a total big game newb. I've been out for bear a number of times this spring and had one come in behind me at 20 yards that I didn't hear or see until he was moving off into the brush. I half heartedly chased after him then ran back to my truck.
Last fall, my buddy took a series of 10+ photos of a mulie doe and 4 point buck humping at 25 yards without taking a shot with his 30.06. I couldn't believe him and neither the rest of us until we saw the pics. Got me to wondering what that first shot is actually like. I couldn't understand why he didn't shoot.
Please tell me your stories of your first big game shot and maybe what it took to get through that first one, confidently or not.
First big game was an old black bear. He was eating grass at the edge of a meadow 30 yards off the road. I got out and pointed my rifle at him but didn’t like the shot placement he offered so hesitated. He then turned and went into the bush and I followed him in. Looking back probably a bad idea because it pissed him off. Finally he turned in a clearing and stood his ground. I was 10 yards away and squeezed the trigger.
1969 I think it was, I was 16. Grew up in Port Hardy and my dad was familiar with these semi alpine swampy meadows off a logging road about 45 minutes away by road then a half-hour walk into the bush. Him and my 12 year old brother and me went up there, hiked into the bush, crossed the log bridge he'd fallen across the river and were walking to the meadows. My dad and brother were ahead of me about 40 yards as we entered a small meadow and after they had passed, a buck came out of the bush to my left only about 40 yards away. I didn't have time to think. I slipped my safety off and raised my WW1 Ross 303, sighted behind the front shoulder and shot offhand from a standing position and the deer dropped. I was both still shocked that it all had happened so fast and elated at the same time when the deer got up and charged away crossing in front of my dad who shot at it, cutting hair across his back.
We never found that deer.
The next year 1970 in a nearby location I was in a similar situation crossing from one meadow through an island of trees on a ridge and then emerged off the ridge to a meadow, there about 50 yards away was a buck on the tail of a doe. I raised the Ross, sighted on the buck's neck, shot and he dropped.
it was a 4x5 blacktail. Both times I never really had time to think about what was happening.
The funny thing is that I didn't know anything about ammo in those days, using a pocketful of mixed loads with different bullet weights and types and even brands. The rear sight on that Ross is a receiver mounted peep sight that if you tip it up has a hole to sight through and an elevator screw. Left folded down there is a crude "U" shaped notch to sight through. That's what I used on that buck and subsequent deer and never missed or wounded a deer again.
The funny thing is that 15 years later when I moved to Vancouver in 1985 I went to a range for the first time in my life to sight in my guns (I had a 243 by then bought in 1976) and found out that Ross is not particularly accurate even using one single type of ammo.
It was a black bear, actually the same one in my profile picture.
Was sitting on a log with my wife when we heard it snapping through the timber, right before it appeared in the little meadow. We watched it eat grass and make it's way closer to us. I took the shot and the bear dropped instantly. I was in disbelief. I didn't even see it go down, but looked over to caddisgirl and she makes this hand gesture, putting her hands together and imitating the bear flopping over.
That night was an adventure. Quite stressful at the time but very memorable in hind sight, as we ended up figuring out how to dress a big time animal (a bear of all things) well into the dark.
I actually have the video of the shot and caddisgirl doing the hand gesture thing somewhere on YouTube.
And that came after a failed attempt the previous year. We had only first tried bear hunting for 1 day the season prior and it was the last day of the season. Similar scenario. We were sitting in a feeding pocket and the bear came out. It walked right up, only several yards away. I squeezed the trigger and heard the loudest sound I have ever heard.... "CLICK"... the bear paused, literally jumped and did a 180, then ran into the next time zone. There was no "try again" since that was our first day bear hunting and the last day of the season.... I had an entire year to obsessively replay that over and over in my head wondering if getting that close to a bear was a repeatable process, so when we did get that first bear in 2015, you can imagine how exciting that was after the misfire "click" in 2014.
51 falls ago. I was eleven. Second year packing a rifle for deer - mulies.
Year before Pa dropped one I tagged. Lesson learned was to be both quick and accurate.
This time around I again saw the 4 point mulie first. 125 yards up a canyon above us.
Semi hidden, but I could see it's head, and a basket ball sized hole in the brush centered on it's chest. Lined up the ancient scope on Gramp's old 250-3000, and center punched it's heart. It ran like hell right at us. Pa quickly overcame his surprise and lifted his rifle to his shoulder just as it tumbled to lie right at our feet.
Mixed emotions that day.
Proud, somewhat overwhelmed by what I had done, and somewhat pensive over taking another's life.
I have not missed a single season without a harvest since. Most years multiples of that.
Fully expect to do so as long as I live.
Most often go through the same emotional response damn near every time.
I didn't start until i was 40! It's never too late to get hunting. My first mulie was with my buddy. We saw the buck and it took off then stopped. I could see it but my buddy couldn't. I was hunting with my old lever gun so he handed me his 30-06. I put it right on the bucks head and blam! I popped my hunting cherry. I borrowed another guys 270 and killed a doe that same year. Don't give up or get too frustrated RaineyLaker! Time in the bush, going slow and good mentors are the key. Here is a link to my first year. Maybe you can get some motivation from it.
I am having trouble remembering the first animal I shot at but remember well the first I hit..
it was a WT doe (quite small) that I took on an LEH near rock creek...
I was slowly walking down a road after the 3 of us split up in the morning near first light...I was a few hundred feet down the road when I looked up the hill to my left and there were 3 deer (I only saw 2 of them)…
the 2 I saw were both good sized -buck and doe...they were partially hidden behind a clump of bushes at about 120 yds...
I had no rest and no clear shot as they went behind the bushes...one walked out from the other side of the bushes and I managed to get an off hand shot through the boiler room. it was not one of the 2 I had seen..it was small but it was my first...
Like it was yesterday...
Six years old, shooting over dad's shoulder. Shot a spike muley square centered up and down and front to back, right through the liver with a 6mm Remington that I still have. Must've taken him 10 minutes to get me to the point where I could see that deer in the shadows. Deer hit the ground so fast he bounced.
I don't remember all the animals I've killed without reminders at this point, but that memory is crystal clear.
Good thread.
I remember my first big harvest like it was yesterday,
32 years ago, I was 8 years old. My dad hunted goats a lot, and I was finally big enough to go. After a normal episode to get into goat country, we belly crawled up over a ridge on day 2, peeking over to see my billy standing there about 100 yards away. I loaded a 160gr round nose in my custom 6.5x55BJImp that my grandad had built for me, my dad whispers “right in the middle of his shoulders”, I think I had felt the first stage of the trigger before he said a word lol.
My goat fell into a hell’holl, so myself and the other 8 year old with us sat above while dad and his friend retrieved the goat. I didn’t mention, the last thing I clearly remember as the “dad’s” were glassing up the goats, one dad says to the other… “we’ll be sleeping over there if we shoot that goat”, with a reply of “agh, it’ll build character”.
With nothing but a space blanket and 1 package of itchyban between us 4, it was a long cold windy wet night under that balsam tree, huddled up beside my dad, cooking goat on a stick.
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Re: Remember your first big game shot?
