Personal Narrative: My Experience Of Hunting

Deer Hunting As my Dad and I pulled in the driveway around 11am, my Uncle Jack was about to go out hunting in the stand that everyone has been getting deer in. I couldn’t pass that up as he asked, “Would you like to go out with me?” I wasn’t sure I wanted to go out since I already went out this morning and stayed up late last night. Before I knew it, my Dad was getting my gun ready and loaded.

One day when I was seven years old I shoot my first deer. It was one of the best days of my life. My dad and I were sitting in a tree stand together, and a doe came walking out in the field. I grabbed my gun, and I had the does in the scope. My dad said on the count of three shot it. As soon as he said one I shot it. I dropped in right in its tracks. That is why deer hunting is one of my favorite things to do in the world.

Since the day I turned six years old I have been in love with the sport of hunting. My love for hunting started when my dad took me with him for the first time when I was five. As we sat in the cold, dark forest, my young mind could not be any more excited as I took in the sights, smells and sounds the forest offered to me. That particular hunt we did not get lucky enough to harvest a deer, probably due to the fact that I could not keep still, but I did not care I loved the placidity the forest provided to a hunter. Hunting had become a major part of my life and I did not even have my license yet.

Hunting to me is something special. Not only are you putting food on the table but you are making some very good memories. One of the best memories I have is my very first hunt, it was my dad and I we were in the blind for maybe thirty mintues and a little six point buck walks and looks around then goes back into the tall grass then my dad rattles the antlers and he comes out and boom that was the end of it. It was an amazing expericence and every since then I have never stopped hunting.

The Hunt It was a gloomy September day and the bear hunting season was about to begin. The old farm truck was loaded full with barrels of cooking grease, assorted candy, birdseed and tubes of sticky frosting. We were to hunt four hours north in a little town called Orr, Minnesota. My family had an 80 acre lot that we used strictly for hunting. My mom volunteered to sit in the stand with me and videotape the hunt.

It was a sunny afternoon we are at the farm in Hillman. I was waiting to go whitetail deer hunting. My dad was talking to his friend Buzz for a very long. Finally my dad was done talking and we started walking out to the edge of a barley field. I was using my dad 's 270.

Even in today 's culture a boy is more accepted after he shoots his first animal and puts food on his family 's table. As a young twelve year old boy I was determined to do this at the hunting shack in Wisconsin. My uncle was my mentor on how to kill a deer. The night before he told me everything to do and I listened until my brain could hardly take any more information in.

I quickly sprang into action, I started army crawling to the mule deer it had to at least be a 6 x 7. I was about 20 yards away and it started running I pulled the trigger twice all I heard was “Click Click.” I had had forgot to insert the mag. The deer had gotten away I was very mad at myself for not thinking clearly.

It noon now. My dad sent into the forest while he cleaned the cabin. He only sent me with a hatchet, some bungie rope, some bait and fishing pole with a small tackle box, and a twenty two with two clips full of ammo in case I see anything that could be food since we didn 't pack any food because we wanted to get away from the city. Guess what I killed, a small buck big enough for me and dad. I made small slay and headed back with some lumber and the deer.

One of the best days of my life was when we went deer hunting in South Dakota with my dad, brother, uncle and two cousins, but before I tell you about my trip let me tell you how it started. We left early in the morning to head to South Dakota where my cousin Jacob, who had just got a job as Game warden in Custer State Park, was taking us deer hunting. We got as far as Fargo, North Dakota when my cousin Keith asked my dad where our license were. Then to our surprise we forgot them back at home. We were lucky enough to have my two aunts and mom bring us the license because they were going to Fargo that day anyways for a girls shopping day. They just had to leave a little earlier. So we just waited in a parking lot until they

It was a cold breezy morning when I walked outside. Goosebumps cover my body because of excitement and nervousness. It was finally here, opening day for the gun hunt.. Grabbing my blaze orange and unzipping the jacket, I put it on. I grabbed my hat and put it on my head. My dad unhinged the gun case and took my gun out. I was going hunting in a stand not that far from our cabin so I could walk to it. My dad said “good luck” to me then I started walking.

When I started coon hunting I was the age of 14 the person that got me in to coon hunting was my dad. The reason why I stared going is because I see him going a lot by himself and I felt that must be pretty alone out there in the dark by yourself. After a year under my belt of just plenty hunting and getting know my dog voice and learning the rules of competition coon hunting My dad ask me if I would like to get in competition coon hunting the first thing that came to mind was heck yes! The next day we was packing are bags and was heading to Kentucky for competition coon hunt it was a 3 hour drive there and when we got there was all sorts of people there just for a coon hunt. I didn’t know that many people did this and I was excited for tonight

I was so shocked I said “Dad what happened, why is mom and Joe dead!!”. My dad replied “Son im sorry, Im so sorry”. I was goanna ask him if he killed them but deep down even at that age I knew he had killed them. I also knew if I had stayed I was next. I ran as fast as I could away from my dad.

My dad and I went on a muzzleloader antelope hunting trip, in Central Oregon. Four days into our trip, on September 1st, we started our morning off like the past three days, very tired. We stumbled out of our beds and, drowsily, we geared up and left for another unknowing day of hunting. Once we arrived at some alfalfa fields, my dad let me drive the dirt roads.

Then I made myself a sword and went to get some meat and wool from the animals, but first I had to collect my crafting table. Then as the sun started to set I checked how much stuff I had gotten, 12 pieces of raw beef, 1 raw chicken,