Add Feedback | Send this Article | Published 1/30/03

Graphic By: Andrew Kinback

However, in the story I am going to tell you, I did just so happen to see something and get my first shot at a buck whitetail deer.  I have only been hunting for two seasons and I hunt in North Garden, Virginia, just a short trip away from Charlottesville.  I am relatively new at the sport, but I always loved those "first time" stories so I have decided to share it with you and the Whim Family.

It was the afternoon of December 18, 2002, in Charlottesville, Virginia. I was hunting late afternoon on Gay Mountain. The property is about 65 acres and it is owned by Jake Thackston, who runs Fat Cat Farm.

I was camped out on a fallen tree on a ridge overlooking a field that has been a hotbed of deer activity. Piles of dung, deer bedding, tracks, and trails where abundant. The field has a creek that runs alongside it which is surrounded by pine trees. The creek and tree line run all the way to the road and locals say that deer use that path to make it to the road and beyond at night. I set up shop around 4pm on a fallen tree that was slightly covered by brush.

Around 4:50 p.m., light was fading and I had not seen much activity. Lots of squirrel and birds in the area making the usual amount of forest noise. The weather was very cold, with little to no wind, and I thought I might have a good chance at having some deer activity without being detected. Suddenly I heard some disturbance of leaves as if a large animal was running through them. Up above the ridge I saw a deer running between the trees but then once again disappeared on the other side of the ridge and that was that for a while.

At about 5 p.m. there was very little light, but the deer that I had seen before appeared again over the ridge. It was closer, but still out of my range. It moved to the side of me and disappeared from sight. About 5:10 p.m. the deer was still not in sight and light was gone. I was about to get up to leave when behind me I heard a snap. I slowly turned my head and 15 yards away was a huge whitetail deer.  It was the largest I have ever seen. It slowly worked its way among the trees, picking at the ground and completely unaware of my presence. It must have thought hunting pressure was over. I turned my body at a very awkward angle and aimed my Marlin 30-30 Rifle w/ Scope. I lined the buck up with a tree and when his sweet spot was exposed I took a shot.

The blast caused the deer to jump and then it ran down the ridge and out of sight. My heart was racing! I had no idea if I had hit it or not. It was too dark to see blood, and after looking around myself and then coming back with two others even later that night, I could not find any evidence of a hit.

At 10 a.m. the next day I returned to the scene and searched for a sign. I found a puddle of blood in a leaf. So I did hit it! I went down off the ridge to search and went to the left a little farther than I did the night before. I found the deer in a briar patch only feet from the scene of our initial search the night before.

I had made the shot in the deer's armpit and the bullet had exited the front of the chest. It had sustained a broken leg running and fell into the briar patch that also doubled as a deer bed. It was the worst briar patch you could imagine, which lead me to name the buck "Briar." Briar turned out to be a young two-pointer.  He was actually quite smaller than my imaginative and excited mind led me to believe the night before, but I was so overcome with excitement and joy that I didn't care.  He might have been small and not that old but to me, he was the "Great Stag."

 I harvested his two-point antlers and my fiancé's family helped me make some fine venison.  It had to have been the best meat I have ever tasted.

 While many people and over-zealous treehuggers think hunting is cruel, hunting serves a great purpose by controlling the overpopulation of deer we have in the state of Virginia as well as building patience, maturity, and a great love for the outdoors.  Not only that, but it also allows for some great stories to tell to friends and loved ones around a fire.  If not, then at least a good story for an internet magazine.