UP bound - son's first deer hunt

Searchin- raised a glass for you and your son tonight and also read your story to my son (12yo). He remembers his first hunt like it was yesterday and said he knows how your son is feeling.

Best of luck from NW Ohio.

There's a whole lot more to hunting than shooting an animal. Great background story that non hunters just don't understand. Good luck on your Yooper adventure

Update time- we had one helluvan adventure.

We got to the cabin a little after dark on Thursday night. Little guy managed to lose a tooth just before brushing his teeth, so all his smiles had a new hole in them going forward. On Friday morning he was up at 6:00 and ready to do something, but it was still dark out. After breakfast we took a walk down to the stream and he found a cool spiderweb in the sunrise.





The trout were cooperative, and he caught and released a handful of colored up browns on old faithful (#2 silver Mepps).



Once the sun had burned off a little of the night's rain, we did a little two-tracking. We found one grouse who didn't like all the extra attention and he made the getaway with no shots fired. A little while later I found myself in a soupy spot and managed an expensive "oops" getting out of the situation- I hate backup cameras. I'm still not sure "who put that tree there!?!"



We get back on track and my son says, "Hey, there's something! I think it's a grouse." Sure enough, he found a bird. This time around we decided to opt for a little bigger medicine and left the rim fire in the truck and grabbed the 28 gauge. This bird was a little more cooperative (thanks Gramps!), and he was able to get the safety off and the bead on the bird before slowly squeezing the trigger. Talk about a happy kid! First time shooting a shotgun ("It doesn't even kick Dad!"), and my son connects on his first grouse. "Just think buddy, you should be in school right now" was all I could say as I started taking pictures.



Let's celebrate with a drink!



We make a pit-stop in Gaylord at Jay's for a box of boolets, and duck into "Cops and Doughnuts" for a little pre-lunch warmup.



He got to break the rules and eat in the car, and we made our way to the bridge while listening to a little REK.



As previously forecasted, the winds were whipping pretty good on Friday, and we made it across the bridge about an hour before they shut it down completely (for something like seven hours). Really glad we didn't get stuck with that fiasco.





Lake Michigan was a little angry, so we pulled over for the obligatory dead grouse photo.



On Saturday morning we were up in the stand at 6:30 waiting for first light. His plan was to try and hold out for a buck on the first day, then shoot a doe on the second day if we didn't see any bucks. Seven hours later we had seen red squirrels, blue jays, chickadees, a harrier, and heard a misplaced flock of snow geese fly over (most likely blown off course from MN). But after seven hours we had seen exactly zero deer. We climbed down and walked back to my buddy's house for a brat and watched a little football. Next on the list was helping out with some dog training with my buddy's draht pup, and then it was time for a new stand for the afternoon sit.



Almost three hours after climbing up in the stand, my son peeks out the window and says, "Deer!! Right there Dad! …and she's at the perfect angle. It's a big doe dad and I'm gonna shoot her!" Okay, I'm good with the new game plan too buddy.

I calm him down a bit, back him away from the window, and carefully peek over the edge of the window to see a big lone doe snorting and stomping her feet, looking at a cabbage we had placed on the edge of the food plot the night before. To me it looked like a dead turkey, and I'm sure the old girl had gotten a few whiffs of our walk into the blind that afternoon. We slowly got the window open, and I helped him quietly get the gun on the ledge of the window. The wind covered our noise a little, but the doe looked like she was going to bug outta the country if that purple cabbage moved an inch. I then realized that I hadn't put my son's ear muffs on him in all the excitement, so I carefully covered his ears with my hands. Just as I was thinking this deer was going to bolt, the little .243 barked and the deer turned inside out motoring back into the thick stuff. When she whirled I thought I saw some red coming out of her exit-side armpit, but my brain started second guessing myself when my son says, "I think I accidentally shot her too high. I don't think I hit her...do you?" Oh boy. I had watched the deer motor back into the thick stuff like she hadn't been hit, but she had disappeared very quickly. I realized at this point that all the shot placement reference photos he had been studying were based on level horizontal shots, not 8-10 yard bow range chip-shots. I told him we'd wait a minute and go check things out. When we climbed down, things looked promising.

We had good steady blood for the first 10-15 yards, but then it magically dried up when she got into some swamp grass. Rather than potentially messing things up, we decided to back out, and go get my buddy and some doggy backup.



Well versed in deer tracking, we put my buddy's wife's old weim on the trail, and she methodically showed us where the deer had traveled. We were back on the blood 10 yards from where we had backed out and now had lots of good blood. 80 yards from where he shot her, my son got to lay hands on his first deer. The .243 had done its job, and he had made a perfect shot- taking out the top of the heart and both lungs. The deer had been dead on her feet the whole time.







We took a pile of pictures and called my dad so my son could tell Grandpa all about what he had just done. Mom didn't get a phone call until 10:00, which is about two hours after his bedtime, and she was just as excited as we were. Good times were had by all. Another round of drinks for the little guy...



On Sunday we took a little detour up to Pictured Rocks for a few more photographs, and then turned the rig for home. On the way he got to catch up on his homework and knock out the spelling test that he had missed on Friday.





You only get one first grouse, and you only get one first deer. To do them on back-to-back days was pretty special, and we'll both be smiling for a long time. Thanks again for all the well wishes. Hopefully the excitement and joy we had this weekend comes through in a few of the pics.

This is a fantastic post. Thanks for sharing!

Man, I was waiting to hear how this went. Not only did you guys have a blast but you brought home some success too! Nice grouse, and that looks like an old bossy doe. What a great weekend. Good job there dad.

Great thread. They could all be just about like this as far as I'm concerned.

I am 48 years old, and I can still tell the details of my first dove hunt and first deer a few years later. Those are memories that you poured into that little guy that he will keep forever. You are teaching him to be a great conservationist. Good job sir!! Good job!

Love this adventure! Congrats to him and to you, and thank you for sharing this.

Great job guys,enjoyed your story.Congrats to your son for his first grouse and deer!Good on you for involving Grandpa in the hunt.Keep up the tradition,the next genetration is our legacy.

Good memories made, for sure!

Very cool. What a great trip. Congrats!

Glad to see yall had a great trip. Good on you for all the pics. Thanks for sharing and following up your story!

Fantastic job telling the story. Not sure how I missed this post before! Congrats to you and your son! Lots of great memories there!

Congrats! What a special moment for you both.

Fantastic memories for you both.

Man what a great weekend for you both!!!

Awesome story, congrats to you and your son.

That’s the good life man. Thank you for sharing it.

I just realized if my wife ever reads this it's going to look like I was pumping straight sugar into his veins all weekend. For the record, he ate a pile of veggies and fruit, he only ate half of the donut, and he did a great job with his toothbrush!!

Looking back on the weekend, it was about as perfect as a guy could ask for. As cool as it would've been for him to tip over a 10 point five minutes after shooting light, I'm glad that it didn't turn out that way. Sitting on stand almost 10 hours without even seeing a deer really built up the anticipation for him, and there was no hesitation when he spotted the doe.

We've got grouse on the menu tonight and tenderloins scheduled for tomorrow. Life is good!