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Deer hunting stories are as old as hunting is. No matter if it is sitting around a fire in deer camp telling stories of past hunts or hearing tales of the weekend first thing Monday at work, we all tell them and love hearing them. This section of our site is dedicated to those very stories. If you like reading these sometimes tall tales from others or want to share one or two deer hunting stories of your own, this is the place. As a registered member you add your own stories to this section. These can be about the ones that got away, the first hunt of a youth, something funny, something serious. You decide! The only thing that has to be, they need to be deer hunting stories. Register today and start adding your stories. Registration is 100% free and we never sell or share your information with anyone. Registration is simply a tool we use to keep spam from being posted to the site.
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I have spent a great deal of time in the field with all four of my children hunting everything from squirrels to whitetails. Many times after our hunts or when I have had a chance to reflect on our time together, I have often wondered if they are getting |
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 I have spent a great deal of time in the field with all four of my children hunting everything from squirrels to whitetails. Many times after our hunts or when I have had a chance to reflect on our time together, I have often wondered if they are getting out of it what they should be. Do they know that hunting is more then taking game and have I even given them a clue to my idea of being stewards of the land.
It was a two day youth hunt in Wisconsin and I had two of my kids chomping at the bit, ready for their first deer. We were hunting a lease that belongs to a hunt club I joined and my kids know there is deer on the property.
We split into two groups, my daughter Amber age 12 and myself in one and my long time hunting buddy Todd and my son Nathan age 14 in the other. The first morning Amber and myself have two deer near our stand. One a mature doe and the other just wouldn't give us a look to see what it was.
Now, club rules say we can shoot nothing less then an eight pointer but kids or any indavidual taking their first deer can harvest anything. The doe in the thicket was fair game. Although we could see the doe it was to thick to take the shot and Amber knew this. She never even raised the gun to shoot. That was the first moment Poppa knew she had been paying attention to previous instructions. The doe did however begin to feed in our direction and Amber was on the ball. She stood up in the tree stand some 15 feet above the ground and turned toward the deer. She raised here gun and steadied it against the tree. Still the doe never gave her a shot and slowly walked off deeper into the thicket but as she started to leave the second deer that we could not see started to follow her and took a path just six yards from our stand. I looked to motion to Amber, here it comes but she already seen it and was ready to shoot.
This was the second proud moment for dad, as she got ready, the deer stoped to nibble some browes, giving Amber a perfect quartering away shot. The deer turned it's head and we both saw it was a buck fawn. Amber clicked the safty back on and watched the little buck follow the doe into the thicket. She turned and sat back down in her stand looking at me with the biggest smile I have ever seen on her face. I think we were both shaking at the knees from the excitment and I told her I think she did a good thing letting the little buck walk and she agreed.
That afternoon back on stand, we hear a single shot coming form the direction of Nathan and Todd. Nathan took his first deer confirmed by the vibrating cell phone in my pocket. The look on Amber's face had me guessing, she was rethinking letting that deer walk that morning.
Sunday morning, the last hunt. I hear foot steps in the fallen leaves that cover the ground but can not see what is there because of the canopy of leaves remaining on the trees. The sound stops close by and doesn't move again for many minutes. Finally I hear it again and then I see the head, another doe making her way right into our set up. I motion to Amber to get ready and the doe is walking right through our shooting lane. Amber gets her gun up and finds the deer in her scope. I give the doe a bleat from my mouth stopping her right in the lane for a perfect broadside shot at ten yards. POW! My heart sank because I knew she had just shot high over the deer's back.
To make this already long story short, I think I was more depressed then she was and I was feeling bad for her. She informed me however, that she had a great time seeing deer and even more, getting to take a shot. I was then also reminded that we have the whole regular gun season for her to get another chance. She took it right in stride and proved to me that she really does understand that there is more to hunting then just taking game. This had to be one of the best couple days I have spent in the field with her and a weekend I'm sure neither of us will forget.... |
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I can remember my dad packing clothes, buying extra groceries, having late night meetings with family members and then the day came when he was leaving. Some of the men from the family were there and all the gear they had been collecting sat by the front door. Then dad took a gun from the cabinet before heading out the door. When I asked my mother where he was going, she said, He is going hunting. I didn’t ever really know what “hunting” was but it looked important.
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 There is one thing for sure and certain about a bitter sweet ending. There remains sweetness to it even through the bitterness that it took to get it. This case was no different I suppose. Art Wedge and his son, Nate was hunting a farm in Wisconsin. This wasn’t just any farm, but the farm which supported the buck they had been hunting. As many of you know, that is a prize commodity in a piece of land. Hunters spend seasons never really tapping into where a nice buck lives, but not this time. Art and Nate had a bead on their buck. It was the one worth hunting. |
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Trophy Class Isn't Always World Class |
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 What is the true measure of a trophy whitetail? This is a question I have asked myself for years. Is it measured by the technical data driven scoring system that is used for the standard of the class of the animal? Could it be the dominant nature of the animal that was harvested? I believe, as do many others, that a true trophy animal is in the eyes of the beholder. A trophy class deer doesn’t necessarily mean that it has to be world class. Now sure, I think every outdoorsman would jump at the opportunity to hunt on the world class operations in Texas and New Mexico and other places that offer a chance at a record book buck. However, the fact of the matter is, that is just not the reality for most of us, yet I still find outdoorsman that end up frustrated and distraught because their trophy class bucks don’t measure up to the world class standard.
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The Story of Frank and G-2 |
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“If you want to take a nice buck, you have to go south. You just can’t grow a deer in north Georgia like you can in the southern parts.” I’m sure you have all heard this one, and I must say, I have been guilty of using this line on more than one occasion. Fact is, if you have the food and decent genetics, then the deer will grow. Don’t take my word for it. Ask Polk County’s Aaron Wood. He knows all too well that soybeans, the right management program, and room to roam is the perfect formula for growing a nice north Georgia buck, or in this case, two nice north Georgia bucks. |
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Whitetail Hunting