Leaving Austin around 2pm on Monday, the drive to RCWMA was nice...once you get off I-35 in Waco....oh yeah and get out of Waco for that matter. The sun was low on the horizon when I finally got to camp, and as I drove up the dirt road to the camp grounds, I could see my father talking it up with another hunter who came up from the Lake Jackson area. I joined the conversation and as the sun began to set you could feel the cold damp air coming from the lake which was about 1/4 of a mile away and 30' above us in elevation. My father and I soon rushed to set up camp before it got dark, and by the time the stars had revealed their position and the orange moon peaked through the bare branches of the trees, we were enjoying a cold beer and talking about the next days hunt.
With a check in time of 11:30, we had plenty of time to get everything together before orientation. None the less, my father and I were up and moving with the rising sun. Dew hung heavily on every surface and the sky was clear and blue.
By the time all the hunters gathered for orientation, the day had warmed to a comfortable 72 degrees. The order of business in the orientation was simply to go over the procedures of the hunt and explain what was a legal harvest and what was not. Added to the list of legal harvest were hogs and coyotes, though neither would ever make it into my sights. By the time all the paper work was signed and we were shown to our compartments, it was mid afternoon, giving us just enough time to scope out the hunting grounds and get ready for the evening hunt. I ended up setting up a temporary blind (using camouflage netting and underbrush) on the edge of some heavy thicket that gave me a couple of choice lines of sight.
My father on the other hand worked a game trail on the other side of the compartment. As the sun moved lower and lower in the sky, I began to see what the bulk of deer hunting involves....waiting. To sit still and quietly wait is hard, but once you get lost in thought, time seems to slip by. I didn't see much that evening, though a Bobcat trotted by about 15-20 yards away. As the sun set, signaling and end to shooting time, I packed my bags and walked towards the truck.Rising early the next morning at 5 am sharp, we heated up some water for coffee and oatmeal and were off and to the blinds by 5:30. After arriving at our compartment and heading our separate ways, I walked lightly towards my blind using the available moonlight. The air was cold and damp and after getting settled and beginning the wait, I could feel it seep through my clothing. Luckily the sun rose quickly and the mourning doves that had spent the night roosting in the trees behind me took off in search of food. Time went by and it wasn't until about 7:20 that I saw the first movement. Two doe emerged about 350 yards away walking into the opening. They were there for only a moment and soon disappeared into the brush. Again, 10 minutes later, they emerged to feed for a moment, and just as before, dipped back into the brush . I began to see more movement not far from where I saw the first two doe. Frustrated at being so far out of range, I began to check my watch and question whether or not I should stay put or try to work my way towards the crossing. The time was now 8:45 when I finally decided to leave the blind. Leaving everything behind except for for my sidearm and and extra magazine (thought I might get lucky with some hogs even though it was solid daylight) I carefully started to make my way out of the blind. Right then two doe jumped out about 40 yards away. I froze then slowly set might sights on one. As my finger slowly pulled on the trigger, I heard the most frustrating sound: "click". No, I had not forgotten to load the chamber. One problem with my semi-auto rifle: when releasing the the slide, it doesn't always slide all the way closed. Right then, the deer flared their tails and ran off into the brush. With my position compromised, I headed on out of the blind and quietly made my way 20 yards up. Right then the two doe out at 350 yards popped out again. I froze. They lingered for about 15 seconds and walked back out of the clearing. At that point I again moved my way forward. This repeated for the next 30 minutes as I slowly made up 150 yards. The morning dew had soaked the leaves under my foot silencing my advance, and the wind blew lightly in my face. When I finally made up an acceptable distance, I slowly got down on my belly and leveled my rifle. The two doe I had been working were now 150 yards out and closing. Patiently I waited as they got closer. The time was about 8:45 by the time the two deer got within accurate range of 110-120 yards. As I set my crosshairs on one of the doe, a group of 4 popped out at about 50 yards. I quickly changed targets and and fired on a doe in the closer group. Unaware of my position, one of the does from the original group sat nervously on the edge of the brush, but as I leveled my crosshairs on her, she finally decided to make a break. Since she was facing me, I was never able to get a clear broad side shot. I quickly walked to my deer to make sure she was down, then once again took the prone position beside her and waited. I waited for about 15-20 minutes, though I should have waited longer. Sure enough, as I set down my rifle and stirred to move the doe out of the lane, the group she had been with returned to check out the scene, and just as quickly as they came, were gone with white tails flared.
My father soon arrived after flushing a buck my way. A nice buck he had seen in his section, and since they were off limits, I pretended to level my rifle and take a shot. Wish I had my camera on me.
With my knife in hand, my father coached me through field dressing my deer. I must say that it is not so much the smell (which isn't pleasant), but rather the steamy smell that rises up into your face. Nothing quite like it. The whole process took a few minutes and when it was all done, my father congratulated me and smeared my face with blood. "That's tradition", he said, "Now you're officially a deer hunter."
With buzzards now circling, and my zone now clear of activity, we took the deer back to the check station to get it registered. Back at the station, they aged it (a young one of about 1-1/2 years....good tender meat), weighed it, and put it in the walk in cooler so that we could go back to hunting and clean it that evening.
After lunch, my father and I went back to hunting, though we didn't see anything that evening. I had set up in a different location but didn't see a thing. Around dusk I could hear the hogs squabbing with each other and headed my way. Right then the bobcat emerged once again about 20 yards away, though this time he had no idea I was there. The sun set before the hogs ever came, so I loaded up and headed back.
That evening, my father again coached me through the steps up skinning and quartering the deer. We took our time so that we got a good hide (had to tan the hide of my first deer), and got everything into the igloo and back into the walk in cooler.
The next morning started out just as the day before, but noon soon came and we did not get any other deer. I had seen a few out or effective range, and not wanting to gut a deer, I refrained from shooting. Earlier that morning, however, I had again seen the bobcat. It emerged from the brush and immediately saw me a took off. Rather rare to see a bobcat, but to see the same one 3 days in a row was awesome. At noon we headed back to camp, broke camp, then headed to the check station to grab my deer.
On the way back home I thought of the trip and I couldn't help but be sad to leave. Yes, because that meant back to work, but more because I was really having a great time with my dad. Just as he had been there for my first fish, my first duck, etc, he was there for my first deer. That means a lot to me. There's nothing better than your father showing you the ropes.
When I got home that evening I started processing the deer, though I would have to finish the next morning. By noon the next day, I had everything processed into hamburger meat and chili meat, with the back strap and tenderloins set aside for special meals. It felt good to "bring home the bacon" in more of a literal sense. And, to celebrate, I threw two burgers on the grill and chowed down. Good eats!
So, thank you Pop for being there for my first deer hunt. I really had a great time and I hope we can do it again soon. Maybe one day when my boy is old enough, I can share the same memories with him.
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