hollarhorns
FNG
- Joined
- Sep 18, 2020
- Messages
- 52
I harvested my first Missouri whitetail when I was 11 years old...for the next 20 years, I dedicated a large portion of my life to chasing these critters. I'd consider myself a successful hunter, filling the freezer for many years and hanging a few memorable racks on the wall; however, Halloween morning 2020 is a hunt I'll never forget.
I took my daughter out for her second year being the one behind the gun and I'm telling you, Field and Stream couldn't have written a better script. We have long discussed the rut and what it means to a whitetail hunter. She decided she wanted to try her hand at using mother nature to her benefit: she flipped the ol' bleat can three times, gave the grunt tube a handful of quiet, tending "burrrps", and asked Mom to knock the horns together. Before I could start in on my second clash of the antlers, this dude was barreling down the ridge behind us. He thrashed a few saplings, opened up a scrape, and finally turned broadside at 40 yards.
I'm telling you, that kid has nerves of steel. Mom felt like a duck on water: calm on the surface and chaos just below the water line, trying to stay above water.
That dark-faced 8 dropped like a rock.
She had officially bagged her first deer before the clock hit 8am on her opening morning.
I'm telling you, you couldn't knock the smile off of my face for days.
I just had to share!
Happy hunting, yall!
I took my daughter out for her second year being the one behind the gun and I'm telling you, Field and Stream couldn't have written a better script. We have long discussed the rut and what it means to a whitetail hunter. She decided she wanted to try her hand at using mother nature to her benefit: she flipped the ol' bleat can three times, gave the grunt tube a handful of quiet, tending "burrrps", and asked Mom to knock the horns together. Before I could start in on my second clash of the antlers, this dude was barreling down the ridge behind us. He thrashed a few saplings, opened up a scrape, and finally turned broadside at 40 yards.
I'm telling you, that kid has nerves of steel. Mom felt like a duck on water: calm on the surface and chaos just below the water line, trying to stay above water.
That dark-faced 8 dropped like a rock.
She had officially bagged her first deer before the clock hit 8am on her opening morning.
I'm telling you, you couldn't knock the smile off of my face for days.
I just had to share!
Happy hunting, yall!
