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2BHunting

Introduction

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Hey all,

I’ve been lurking on the site for a couple of years now. No idea why it took me so long to actually sign up, but I thoroughly enjoy the content. A little about me, my name is Brandon and I moved to AZ back in 2002 from Colorado. I didn’t get involved in hunting AZ until a few years ago, and have been addicted ever since (I’ll share that story first). I’m married with 3 kids, and a 4th to be any day now (all boys). My now father in law took me on an any antlered deer hunt in 2016 where I shot my first big game animal (a very small mule deer spike) that AZGFD aged at about 2-3 years old, and told me he just had bad genetics (insert milk on the lips jokes here). I had always considered myself an “outdoorsmen” until this hunt, when I realized how much of a city slicker I had become. My father in law had taken me on a couple of scouting trips before the opener, and asked me what I thought. I said” Well, I am having a tough time believing that there’s going to be a deer out there behind that cactus,” he laughed. Opening morning had me stumbling around the desert flats being taught a lesson with every step. I went south out of camp, my father in law went north, and his buddy went east so we had a good understanding of who would be where. Twenty minutes into my hike south, I make my way through a thicket and came face to face with a moo cow. Not knowing how he would react I backed out slowly, and rerouted. Come to find out I’m smack dab in the middle of a herd of moo cows now, and am really starting to feel like a city slicker. They don’t bother me, and I don’t mess with them and scoot on out of the wash I was in. As I’m slowly walking through my new route, I hear the sound of hooves galloping behind me. I turn around and see a buck (appeared to be a decent 3x3 from behind) and a doe bouncing away up the side of a hill. I literally must’ve walked on top of them bedded, because to this day I am not sure how I made it through where they came from, to where I was without jumping them first in front of me. With my rifle slung over my head and on my back, I’m knocking my hat off and tangling my sling and binos together while trying to get to the top of the hill to hopefully have a shot at the buck. He was in the next area code by time I got my stuff together, and regrouped from the adrenaline rushing through me. I walked countless miles that day, stopping and glassing, and learning and falling in love with not only hunting, but hunting the desert. As I tried to sleep that night, and replayed everything that had happened over and over, I began making my plan for the next morning. I had come across a water tank that I sat for a bit, and decided that I would head that way again in the pre-dawn hoursAs the sun came up, I made my way south again. No longer having the rifle slung behind me, and noticing that my walk wasa lot different this morning, I realized that the addiction was in me now, and was spreading like wildfire. I spent two hours slowly navigating my way through the washes, towards my mark on the water tank. I was hoping I could cut them off coming from water as the morning sun began to rise. Unfortunately (or fortunately) for me, my first introduction to public land hunting, and another lesson was about to be learned. I’m ¼ mile from the tank now when I hear the sound of a vehicle driving down the road leading to the tank. I can’t believe it, two hours of slowly walking in, and here comes someone driving right down the road that I didn’t see a sole on the day prior. I stop and position myself behind a thicket to where I have shooting lanes should my new friends push anything out. As I sit there, the shotgun blasts begin to rain out. Well, there goes my plan entirely and I’m too new to have a plan B. So, I improvise, look towards a range of mountains in the distance and say that’s where I’m headed. Borderline frustrated, I start my walk that changes my life. Now, I am not wanting to interfere with the bird hunters, so I keep about a ¼ mile perimeter from the tank and walk around it. I’m to the other side now about to cross a wash when I catch movement up above me on the other side of the wash. I drop to a squatting position and identify the movement. I jumped two deer behind a bush. I raise my rifle and pick them up in the scope. The first deer steps out, and I see he has a tiny antler on his left side (literally about all he had) and a button on the right side. The internal debate begins. I don’t know my father in law well at this point, and I worry about the “size of the antler” razzing back at camp I’m sure to face if I squeeze. I then think about my late papa giving me my Winchester .270 that I am holding, and sitting with me through my hunter safety class at 13 years old back in Colorado. I think of how proud of me he would be if he could see me in this momentAs that last thought crosses my mind, he turnedquartering slightly toward me and “BOOM!” instinct took over and the bullet enters mid chest and exits his left shoulder. He stands straight up on his hind legs, turns and boogies up the hill with his girlfriend. I lose sight of him, and try to calm myself down and mark my shot location. I cross the wash and up the other side to where he was and begin looking for blood. No blood, anywhere. I walk to the top of the ridgeline, no blood and no deer in sight. Now I’m second guessing everything. I saw him stand, I was right on him from 45 yards, how could I miss?? Telling myself I have to find blood, I decided to criss cross down the hill side back to my shot location. I walk the ridgeline parallel from where I took the shot, and begin to criss cross down. The first zig of my zag, and I find him expired. I was so thankful and overcome with emotion. I never did find any blood at all other than where he lay, and believe that marking my shot location is the only reason I found him being solo and so green. I thankfully have cell service, and call my father in law, who sends my brother in law out to help me clean him up. Ironically he drives down the same road to the tank that the bird hunters drove out on. He actually stopped and talked to them on their way out, and they told him that they heard my bullet hit its mark after the shot. I thought that was pretty cool, and the first I had learned of that happening. My ears were ringing and certainly didn’t hear it hit. Anyhow, if you are reading this and you were one of those bird hunters at the tank in 37B that day in 2016, thank you! You pushed me around that tank and led me straight to what has now become a true passion of mine. From small game to big game, there is very little in life that I enjoy more for myself. My kids, my wife, and the great AZ outdoors. If you’re still reading, thanks! I look forward to sharing much more! I also have thick skin, so I’m not afraid to post these pictures that accommodate this story. The lessons I learned on this hunt, and the first spent shell on my belt of big game hunting launched me into this obsession and that was my trophy from the hunt. Now let’s all get back to idgaf’s thread, cause let’s be honest..that’swhat we’re really checking in on right now!

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Welcome! Good luck conversing in this Cesspool that we have created here in this coues whitetail community. Thanks for postong the pics! I like bucks with MASS!!😂

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Welcome the the site.  First deer is really important and a great memory.  I remember mine like it was yesterday and that was nearly 50 years ago.

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Awesome first post! I'm glad your first post wasn't about asking where to hunt.  

Btw, moo cows are cows with tits, the boys are bulls. You should worry more about bulls not cows!

Welcome to the forum.

Where are you located?

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Welcome. Nice 1st post and story. I have the feeling you'll be sharing more success stories in the near future.

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Great first story.  Nothing wrong with your first buck.  Only gets better from there.  Welcome to the site.  Lots and LOTS of knowledge (and opinions) here.  

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I've shot a few spikes myself.  They are definitely tasty and fill the freezer.  Always awesome to tag out.  Welcome

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