When I was a kid (15) my dad took me out of state bowhunting. He had just gotten a new bow and had given me his old one, a Hoyt turbotec that he hadn’t bothered to turn down from 70 pounds (somewhat irrelevant to the story, but still funny). The first night he got me up in a tree and not long after a big doe walks out, 10 yards, yanked that bow back and took aim, I couldn’t get that pin to stay still to save my life, and she didn’t like something about what was going on (probably could hear me shaking) because she didn’t stick around and boosted. I must have been at full draw for 10 minutes after she left before I could finally let it down, I remember my hand being “stuck” to my face and my shoulder being locked back and because of buck fever couldn’t move at all, let alone let the bow down.
The next morning the guys sent me to another stand by myself, in the dark, at a place I’d never been before. Naturally being 15 I couldn’t find it, I traipsed all around gods creation before the sun came up and I decided to go back to camp. One of the guys was there and gave me a whole bunch of crap about not being able to find it and having walked past it at least 10 times while looking for it. I probably did made a bunch of noise and deposited scent all over the place ruining it for everyone else. I was just a kid after all, but I was pretty upset. He texted my dad and dad had him send me up the driveway to a treestand that was literally on the dirt road, somewhat as a “punishment”, somewhat as a “just go sit SOMEWHERE”.
Funnily enough things turned around, despite me having a bad start to the day, I climbed that tree without a care to give in regards to noise or anything, I’m surprised I even hauled my bow up into the tree, but I did. There was cell service so I was texting my girlfriend, mom, friends back home complaining about the trip and how they set me up for failure and called me a stupid and how I wasn’t going to shoot anything (negative 15 year old mindset).
Funny enough, less than a half hour later I’m still buried in my phone and two does come traipsing right down the driveway. I stuff my phone away, get my act together and as soon as they make it past me a bit, I yank back. Stone cold killer at this point and wanting redemption at this point for the night prior and getting my butt chewed this morning and feeling like an idiot for getting lost, and heart punch the biggest one. She makes it 20 yards off the road or so and tips over. I grab my arrow and put it back in my quiver and decide to head back to camp for a nap so as to not make a bunch of racket messing with the deer while everyone else is hunting
I wake up from my nap to find dad chewing my ass “I drag you halfway across the country and spend all this money on tags and gas for you to lay in bed and play on your damn phone…” I show him my hand that had blood from my arrow all over it “yep you got a booboo so you went back to camp, I can’t believe it, this is crazy, if I had this opportunity at your age…..” and carried on for a bit.
I was having fun with the whole thing at this point so I kept the story going. A half hour later after he sat down I said “oh yeah and I dropped my bow out of the tree, can you go check my quiver? I think my arrows are messed up” he didn’t like that as the cherry on top so he got up and stomped outside.
I hear him laughing like a hyena then a “YOU SON OF A…..” as he walks in with my bloody arrow. “You just let me give you an hard time and didn’t think to mention that you tipped something over? How did the shot look”
“Watched her tip over, came back for a nap”
“Wow, no kidding” and he was prouder than he k, he was happy I got lost and ended up shooting my first deer with a bow. We went and got the doe and took a bunch of pictures. Great time, great memories. We still hunt together today.
In the 15 years since that story I’ve messed up 100 times and missed out on opportunities on animals because of me doing something stupid. If I didn’t dedicate all of my freetime to hunting I wouldn’t ever shoot anything. Luckily I live in the woods once September rolls around so I get at least a couple bloody arrows a year. Sorry for the long read, I just love that story.
Edit

riginal edited for foul language