This is the sixth of an occassional series outlining the most unusual experiences of the FC community.
Each year, in the early fall, my father and I and a few friends from church get up at an obscenely early hour and embark upon our annual hunting trip. Once in our typical mountain spot, we drive and hike to numerous places throughout the area in search of deer.
Since the 8th grade I have been repeating the process every year, each time coming back with nothing and becoming more and more discouraged with every passing season.
However all of that changed over the course of this past weekend. It started with the usual late night preparations and early morning departure. All said and done I finally got to bed at around one a.m. the night before and got up to leave at four the next morning.
We arrived at our spot, which was different than our usual Sierra Nevada location in the foothills above Pine Flat. During both the preparation and initial part of the two day hunt, I was fairly certain that a deer would not be in my immediate future, as the weather had not been cold enough to push them down into lower elevations where we were. However those expectations were quick to change.
After a morning hike in which we saw a few deer tracks, our interest was rekindled in finding a buck. After a lengthy hike we made our way back to the truck slightly disappointed at not even seeing a doe (a female deer).
We traveled on, covering miles of land looking for promising places to hunt, all the while seeing wild pigs, a bear, coyotes, and even a bobcat. However our quest for a buck remained unfulfilled.
Then at about 12:20 in the afternoon, while we were driving one of our friends shouted, “look there goes a deer!” We all flew out of the truck, rapidly loading our rifles hoping that the deer spotted had a nice set of antlers perched upon its head.
We scanned and searched quietly looking for any movement: an eye blink or an ear twitch could be the only give away that a deer is sitting in the tall grass.
After more scanning and searching, we unloaded our rifles and slowly climbed back in to the truck. We drove roughly 10 yards before the same person yelled “look there it is again!” Partially unbelieving, everyone else looked up and sure enough there was a deer walking across the draw on the side of the road about 100 yards downhill.
We all jumped back out of the truck again rapidly fumbling with rifle shells. It would be important to mention at this point that we were hunting on private land and were driving on an unofficial road. On public land shooting from or across a road is illegal, however driving on private land on an unimproved road is not illegal.
Upon scanning the grass field on the side of the road, I quickly spotted the deer and, with further inspection, I found antlers perched upon his head. While all of this elapsed in less than a minute, it seemed much longer and I can recount it almost second by second.
As soon as I saw that it was a legal buck, a heard one of our hunting buddies yelling, “It’s a buck! Shoot it! Just shoot it!” I clicked the safety off on my Winchester Model 54 30-.06, lined up the sights, placed them as best as I could on the top half of the deer and squeezed the trigger.
The gun shuddered and produced an ear-splitting boom and I saw the deer go down. Victorious, I began the 100-yard trek down hill to the deer while my friend’s congratulations were echoing around me. While the buck was not massive by any account, it certainly was average for California and weighed roughly 130 pounds field dressed. Roughly 20 minutes later we were pulling the deer up to the road and the truck.
After four years of hunting and continually coming back with nothing, I now have a successful hunting trip under my belt and a freezer full of meat to show for it. Despite our lack of success the previous years, my father and I still came away with many lasting memories and good times to be looked back upon from those trips. The whole hunting/camping experience provides an excellent father- son experience.
