by rob radcliff
I live in Ohio which is known for some pretty good sized deer. I am 15 now but was 8 when I shot my first deer and buck. My dad and I loved to go to the tree stand together. It was the first day of youth gun season. I had been shooting my dads first gun, a single shot .410. It was very cold, but that didn’t stop us. We had seen a few does and a couple spikes but my dad thought we could do better. We waited and finally a real nice buck came in at about 40 yards to a big corn pile we layed out and finally he got broadside and I shot. He ran off and then we went back to eat and tell. We told my mom, aunt and cousin about what happened and then about a half of an hour later, we went to look. There was blood everywhere and not a deer in sight. We tracked him for 150-200 yards and it was getting late. We said we would pick up tracking in the morning. We got up and went looking. Over the night the blood trail got thinner and thinner. He had crossed the road over onto our other property and he layed in that field deader than a bag of rags. We had figured out that he had ran over 300 yards. He is now hanging on our living room wall with the other 3 bucks, 1 of which was my second buck which was a bigger buck than my first but I remember the first deer a lot better.