There is something about the first cool front or two that really seems to make my neck swell!

Just like that old buck deer, I think that I have something in my DNA that tells me when the rut is about to start, and by the time November rolls around I find it hard to focus on much other than hunting.  This year would be no different.  The game is the same from season to season but the players seem to change every now and then.

Most of my hunts are with my guy friends or my sons, but this was going to be a four-day hunt with my baby girl.  Before I go much further into my story it is important for you to understand that I grew up with two brothers and we did guy things … rugged, manly stuff!

We hunted and fished and stayed outside.  I was blessed with two boys of my own as well as two wonderful daughters. It has always been easy for me to relate to the boys but not as easy with my girls. I have tried to do girly things with them but it didn’t go over too well and to say the teenage years were rough would be an accurate statement.

It was my hope and goal that this hunt would somehow help my daughter and I to restore our relationship to its former glory.  As we arrived at camp we began to plan out how the hunt would take place.  Brianna is an accomplished bowhunter who has hunted by herself many times, but we both decided this would be a team effort.  We would be hunting in the blind together with her armed with a crossbow and I was armed with a rangefinder.

The first morning was incredible. As we sat in the pre-dawn black 45 minutes before the sun would make it appearance, we could begin to see dark objects moving freely in the field.  As the light broke through the darkness it was evident that the hunt was going to be one to remember.  Deer were abundant.  Our mission today was to take out several mature does to help meet our MLD quota. It wasn’t long until Brianna proved once again to be a chip off of the old block as she methodically harvested these animals with sniper like precision.  Upon recovery it was noted that each doe had been taken with a perfect shot and in fact the shots were in the EXACT same spot on each animal.  I couldn’t have been more proud.

After each hunt Brianna would show off her cooking skills by preparing an awesome meal and I wondered why I hadn’t coerced her into coming on more trips.  My baby girl was an amazing cook!

The next order of business was to put Brianna on a buck.  Not just any buck, but the perfect management deer.  An older buck with some trait that kept him from being a trophy was on the hit list. 

This task was more difficult than I first expected.  First off we would see deer that didn’t meet the criteria we were given. This was about to drive us crazy as we generally hold to the shoot whatever is legal that makes you happy philosophy. Then once a target buck would arrive something would happen to scare him off.

Our first candidate was just about to meet his maker when he suddenly bolted to chase a hot young doe.  Candidate number two was scared beyond belief when a young cow decided to scratch his back on the legs of our box blind. The rumble of the metal blind shaking on the rocks could be heard a half a mile away and sent this eight-pointer running for the hills.  He was seconds from being had.

With only a morning and evening sit left, I was beginning to think it might not happen. As luck would have it, 10 minutes before dark, along comes candidate number three.  He didn’t exactly fit the management description as I had hoped.  In fact he was about a 140-inch eight-pointer with long tines and extreme mass and width to make him a true monster. He had a Kansas rack on his hill country frame. He would cost me my only trophy tag but I was glad to give it up for Bree to shoot this deer of a lifetime. 

He stayed at 20 yards for an eternity.  Bree quietly raised the bow and waited for this brute to turn broadside. He never gave us the right shot as I whispered in her ear to wait for the perfect angle. Slowly he begins to turn and then a doe that had been causing havoc all evening began to blow loudly.  Our buck walked away.  If she’d had a gun I would have given the green light, but not with a bow.  I wanted her to kill a buck and not wound one.  The wind was let out of our sails as the giant sauntered off into the night, but we both agreed it was the most exciting hunt we’d ever had.

The final morning was calm and quiet.  The deer began to move right at dawn. We needed this to happen quickly since we had to be on the road home before noon.

Deer came and left all morning but no shooters. We had been seeing deer across the field since daylight but with only a rangefinder we couldn’t really tell how big they were. With only 30 minutes left we noticed three deer heading our way.

A doe followed by two nice bucks.  What could go wrong this time? Well how about nothing!  She came right in and they both followed on a string.

As soon as they were in range my sharpshooter fired off a bolt.  The buck ran about 60 yards behind some bushes where we couldn’t see him.  Brianna said that he took a step right as she squeezed the trigger so she might have hit him a bit back. 

We decided not to push this deer so we eased out and headed to camp to pack our things and clean up.  Two hours later we returned to find him and once we got close, the buck jumped up and ran away. 

Our hearts sank.  I told her that we needed to wait a few more hours.  We went to camp again, visited a bit and took a nap. 

Three hours later we loaded up Jax the tracking dog and headed back out.  We both prayed for a quick recovery and within minutes Brianna and Jax were at the deer as excited as could be. 

Jax had a wagging tail and Bree had a smile from ear to ear. I was elated. We had finally gotten her a buck!

After taking pictures Brianna posted her buck on Facebook and wrote “not about the horns but about the memories”.  I wanted to cry.  Mission accomplished. 

The bond that seemed to weaken through these teenage years had been rekindled. A daddy and his little girl were once again a team. 

Only through this trip did I begin to realize that my little girl wasn’t a little girl anymore.  She had grown up right in front of my eyes and I didn’t even notice.  She was a lady now.  She had her own goals and dreams, her own ambitions, and her own precious personality.

If you have a child or grand child, I encourage you to take them hunting or fishing.  You could have the chance to really get to know them and make a lifetime memory in the process! Who knows you might even get lucky and kill a deer or four!