My daughter Bella has the lucky touch for sure. She and my hunting partner's daughter, were were drawn for three hunts this year. While this was a blessing, this was also a monumental undertaking. In the span of a month (on consecutive weekends), I travelled from DFW to the Chap and back, DFW to Daughtrey and back, DFW to Beaumont and back, and DFW to Colorado Bend SP and back. I'm certainly travel-weary but we had a great time. Now that the meat is butchered and wrapped, and I've had a chance to sleep a little bit, it's time to re-cap. I'll list the hunts below and tell the story of each and provide pics in turn.
Chaparral Youth Antlerless/Spike (Nov 11-12)
As always, the Chap puts on a great hunt for the kiddos. Bella drew this hunt last year, but failed to connect. This year we were better prepared. She had a bit of trouble with my Remington 700 in 22-250 last year, as it was much too long for her (she recently turned 10). In an effort to get her into something she could shoot more comfortably, I built a 300 Blackout upper for my AR-15. We went to the range at least once a month during the past 8 months, and she's become quite a good shot.
After orientation on the first afternoon, we set our to our spot. That afternoon a nice 1 1/2 year old doe stepped out at around 4:00pm. Bella wasted no time in getting into position and settled herself for a shot. The doe initially stepped out at around 80 yards, and was walking toward our scattered corn (placed between 30 and 60 yards). We had agreed to try to limit shots to 75 yards at most.
As the doe walked in, she zigged and zagged, turning broadside for a second or two at a time. Bella began to get a bit nervous and I could feel her chair begin to shake a bit. I whispered to her, "keep the rifle on safe, but think through your shot sequence each time she turns broadside so that you'll be ready when she steps into range." More than anything, this was an attempt to occupy her mind and assuage her nervousness. Soon enough, the doe was at around 40 yards, but had walked behind a small bit of brush. She was too occupied with feeding to care about us and I knew it was only a matter of time.
I instructed Bella to take the rifle off safe in anticipation of the coming opportunity, and let her know that she could shoot as soon as the doe cleared the brush and presented a shot. She did just that. Though the doe was quartering away when she stepped out, Bella took the shot. The 300 Blackout is not particularly loud, and I could clearly hear the loud "THWUMP" of the round impacting soft tissue. Bella immediately cried out that she had missed, but I confirmed that she had indeed made contact and that I had heard it. Despite the hit, the doe had bolted into the thick south Texas brush.
A short time later, we climbed down to begin tracking her. Elation turned to concern, and then to heartache as we found no blood. This scenario had played out thrice last year, and Bella was devastated. We walked to the truck to try to get help before darkness fell. One of the staff members rode back out with us as we recounted the events of the afternoon. I knew that she had run down one of three trails after the shot, and the staff member and I each took one and began walking the trails without finding a drop of blood. As I walked the third trail, I found her piled up 40 yards from the spot where she was shot. She looked as if she had crumpled mid-stride and there was not a drop of blood beneath her. Curious as to the shot placement, I rolled her back and forth. Bella had made a perfectly placed shot that entered near the back rib on the front side and exited through the front edge of the back-side shoulder! With that, she had officially taken her first deer! She was now a real hunter!
We hunted the next morning in hope of bagging a javalina as well, but none appeared. After the morning hunt, we hit the road. Come to find out, her doe was one of only a handful harvested that warm weekend.
James Daughtrey Whitetail Management Hunt (Nov 18-19)
This hunt allowed the harvest one one doe and one buck with 8 or less points and a spread of 12 inches or greater. Bella and I had discussed how to balance wanted to harvest a buck and the need to fill the freezer, and thus harvesting a doe if the conditions were right. After orientation on Saturday, we headed afield and got set for our afternoon hunt.
Our blind was on the intersection of two senderos, and appear to have gone unused for some time. I trimmed the small limbs that had grown around the blind on three sides, and baited in three directions. I had resolved not to worry with the fourth, as this would require her to stand and move to my side of the blind in order to take a shot. This proved a disappointing oversight. Around midafternoon, a 120-130 class 8 point sauntered slowly across the sendero at a mere 40 yards... in the direction I had not prepared. There wasn't a thing in the world I could do about it.
As the evening wore on we got to see a trio of toms, which provided a half hour of entertainment, but no deer found interest in the corn until a half hour before dark. Three does stepped out as the sun began to set. We watched them for as long as we could in hope that a buck would follow, but none did. With only minutes of shooting time left, I reminded Bella that this might be the only chance she gets. She reached for the rifle and began to prepare for her shot.
Eventually, the largest doe presented a broad sight shot with only moments left before time ran out. Bella seized the opportunity and drove a round home at 60 yards. Again, I heard the loud "THWUMP", but this time she didn't take a step. She dropped in her tracks and kicked only once before expiring. Inspection revealed a perfectly placed shot that landed straight up the back edge of the front leg.
The next day's hunt was uneventful. We had resolved to hunt until the last minute in an effort to fill her buck tag, but we only saw a single coyote on Sunday. At dusk, we headed north again.
Colorado Bend State Park Youth Deer Either Sex Hunt (Dec 2-3)
We knew that Daughtrey had likely been our best chance at a big buck, but this hunt would be our best chance for numbers. The Hill Country is crawling with deer, and those found in State Parks are often not the most skittish of their kind. We had a day and a half to hunt, and three either sex tags that we could fill. Additionally, Bella had performed at a very high level on the previous two hunts.
We were assigned to a sizable chunk of land, and it didn't take long for the to find a field that had a handfull of trees that had been girdled by rubbing bucks. I quickly got to work cutting into a stand of cedars and brushing my pop-up into the clump. Once I was confident in my blind placement, I scattered a bag of corn, attempting to set up a 50-75 yard shot.
That Saturday evening, we sat quietly, observing an empty field for hours. Once in a while we'd hear a doe blow from somewhere on the other side of the brush behind us, but not much else... until an hour before dark. When I first saw him, I wasn't sure what he was. He passed like a ghost behind a line of dried up cedars, and I was only aware of his presence in the way that a veteran hunter "feels something is near" and "thought he might have seen movement in the shadows". As I inspected the area with my binoculars his shape began to take form. I knew he was a buck, but I didn't yet know how big he was. I handed Bella the rifle and told her to get ready. She was on him with the scope immediately. I was witnessing my daughter become a tiny but dangerous predator. She stared through the scope with intense focus, shaking slightly all the while.
As the buck cleared the cedars, I quickly realized that he was easily the largest 8 point I had ever seen while afield. Unfortunately, he wasn't interested in our corn and was merely passing from one brush line to another. More unfortunate still was the fact that he had chose a low spot as his path of travel. We watched as he walked slowly across 100 yards of open ground with his vitals concealed the entire time by the high grass of the rise between him and us. And thus, he walked out of our lives forever.
Bella was visibly rattled, but filled with hope. This was, after all, only the first night. We packed up and headed to camp empty handed.
We had high hopes as we sat in darkness the next morning. We had come to play for keeps, but the opposing team was reluctant to show. Finally, late in the morning, a young Hill Country 8 appeared out of nowhere a mere 20 yards from the blind. Bella, still carrying a bit of anxiety from the night before, began to shake. The young buck picked up on this quickly, but reluctantly tolerated it in favor of the corn. He did not, however, tolerate the click of the safety, which Bella had swept to the off position to swiftly and too loudly. He bounded away without stopping. That was the end of the Sunday morning hunt.
I knew at this point that we were simply in a bad spot. We had seen dozens of deer along the park roads, yet only two bucks in this field. As we prepared to call it a morning, I told Bella, "I want to move. We haven't seen nearly as many deer as we should. Now, this will be risky but I think it's the right move. We can stay here, or we can move. If we move, we might not see a thing, or it might be our turning point. Your hunt, your call." She paused for a moment, then said, "I think we have to move." So move we did.
We relocated the blind, headed to pack up camp before the evening hunt, and made our way back to the blind. As the hours ticked by I became worried that we had made a mistake. The deer didn't show until sunset. Two does wandered into our area at around 130 yards, feeding the wrong direction. Bella quickly stated that she would be happy with a doe, as long as we could get an ethical shot. Just as all seemed hopeless, the pair of does blew and bounded in our direction. Something had spooked them right back into our hands, but they stopped short, loitering behind a bush at 90 yards.
Bella looked my way and asked if she could start getting ready for a shot. I agreed, but informed her that if I didn't have confidence in the shot, I would call it off. She nodded. Given the distance, I dialed the zoom up to 9 and handed her the rifle. As she observed the two does, she began to shake. First it was a gentle tremor, but it soon grew to an alarming, bone rattling shudder. I was losing confidence. To make matters worse. Two more does slipped quickly across our lane at a mere 30 yards, but with the rifle zoomed so high and their haste in crossing, Bella was unable to shift targets and her frustration and anxiety reached a fever pitch. My elbow was rested on her chair and I could feel the earthquake that was contained to her world alone. It was getting darker and the does were still only presenting momentary shot opportunities. "Go ahead and take it off safe", I whispered,"but DO NOT SHOOT unless you get control of yourself. At 90 yards, I knew this shot would be challenging for her under the best circumstances. "I won't" she whispered back. As I peered through my binoculars, I whispered "call our which deer (right or left) you are shooting before you fire". "Yes sir". I've been to combat twice, and I've never seen the amount of nervousness, excitement, and adrenaline that I was witnessing unfold within my little girl. What happened next will stay with me as long as I live.
My elbow was on her chair, which was doing it's best impression of the funky chicken. I glanced at the muzzle of the rifle only to find it VIOLENTLY tracing figure 8s in the air from it's rest atop the tripod. "You've got to get control of yourself or you can't shoot" I warned. "We owe the deer a clean and quick death. You have to be accurate." "I know sir. I've got it." My eyes returned to my binos as I leaned toward the opening in the blind to watch for impact in case she shot. I heard her take a deep breath and the energy in the blind shifted as quickly as the wind ahead of a cold front. The chair suddenly became as still as if it were bolted to the ground. Her previously ragged breaths ceased and she drew one even breath after the other, then paused. "Left" she called with the calm tone of someone simply choosing a hand in a cheesy magic trick. BOOM! I was suddenly blind, deaf, and disoriented! In my effort to watch her impact, I had leaned forward too far. The muzzle break had been a mere 2-3 feet immediately to the right of my face when she fired. I was so jarred that I nearly thew my binos out of the blind. Clearly I didn't see the impact but still ... THWUMP! She had not only pulled herself together but she had hit her target! I tried not to get too optimistic, knowing that this would likely be a tracking job in the dark.
We quickly broke down the blind and prepared for the pack out. after 10 minutes we went down under failing light to check for blood. Halfway down the hill it became clear... the white belly shone like a beacon in the twilight. She had not taken a step. The round had impacted neatly on the front edge of the shoulder while she stood broadside.
With that, our season ended. We had an amazing time on all three hunts. We owe Texas Parks and Wildlife a big shout out and thank you, as staff were friendly and ready to help at every single location, and shared the joy of the harvest with my baby girl each time we checked in.
Take your kids hunting folks. Nothing else like it on earth. I've really enjoyed watching my little girl blossom as a hunter. She's hooked for life. While we didn't get her a buck, we made some great memories and filled the freezer with some high quality protein.
Chaparral Youth Antlerless/Spike (Nov 11-12)
As always, the Chap puts on a great hunt for the kiddos. Bella drew this hunt last year, but failed to connect. This year we were better prepared. She had a bit of trouble with my Remington 700 in 22-250 last year, as it was much too long for her (she recently turned 10). In an effort to get her into something she could shoot more comfortably, I built a 300 Blackout upper for my AR-15. We went to the range at least once a month during the past 8 months, and she's become quite a good shot.
After orientation on the first afternoon, we set our to our spot. That afternoon a nice 1 1/2 year old doe stepped out at around 4:00pm. Bella wasted no time in getting into position and settled herself for a shot. The doe initially stepped out at around 80 yards, and was walking toward our scattered corn (placed between 30 and 60 yards). We had agreed to try to limit shots to 75 yards at most.
As the doe walked in, she zigged and zagged, turning broadside for a second or two at a time. Bella began to get a bit nervous and I could feel her chair begin to shake a bit. I whispered to her, "keep the rifle on safe, but think through your shot sequence each time she turns broadside so that you'll be ready when she steps into range." More than anything, this was an attempt to occupy her mind and assuage her nervousness. Soon enough, the doe was at around 40 yards, but had walked behind a small bit of brush. She was too occupied with feeding to care about us and I knew it was only a matter of time.
I instructed Bella to take the rifle off safe in anticipation of the coming opportunity, and let her know that she could shoot as soon as the doe cleared the brush and presented a shot. She did just that. Though the doe was quartering away when she stepped out, Bella took the shot. The 300 Blackout is not particularly loud, and I could clearly hear the loud "THWUMP" of the round impacting soft tissue. Bella immediately cried out that she had missed, but I confirmed that she had indeed made contact and that I had heard it. Despite the hit, the doe had bolted into the thick south Texas brush.
A short time later, we climbed down to begin tracking her. Elation turned to concern, and then to heartache as we found no blood. This scenario had played out thrice last year, and Bella was devastated. We walked to the truck to try to get help before darkness fell. One of the staff members rode back out with us as we recounted the events of the afternoon. I knew that she had run down one of three trails after the shot, and the staff member and I each took one and began walking the trails without finding a drop of blood. As I walked the third trail, I found her piled up 40 yards from the spot where she was shot. She looked as if she had crumpled mid-stride and there was not a drop of blood beneath her. Curious as to the shot placement, I rolled her back and forth. Bella had made a perfectly placed shot that entered near the back rib on the front side and exited through the front edge of the back-side shoulder! With that, she had officially taken her first deer! She was now a real hunter!
We hunted the next morning in hope of bagging a javalina as well, but none appeared. After the morning hunt, we hit the road. Come to find out, her doe was one of only a handful harvested that warm weekend.
James Daughtrey Whitetail Management Hunt (Nov 18-19)
This hunt allowed the harvest one one doe and one buck with 8 or less points and a spread of 12 inches or greater. Bella and I had discussed how to balance wanted to harvest a buck and the need to fill the freezer, and thus harvesting a doe if the conditions were right. After orientation on Saturday, we headed afield and got set for our afternoon hunt.
Our blind was on the intersection of two senderos, and appear to have gone unused for some time. I trimmed the small limbs that had grown around the blind on three sides, and baited in three directions. I had resolved not to worry with the fourth, as this would require her to stand and move to my side of the blind in order to take a shot. This proved a disappointing oversight. Around midafternoon, a 120-130 class 8 point sauntered slowly across the sendero at a mere 40 yards... in the direction I had not prepared. There wasn't a thing in the world I could do about it.
As the evening wore on we got to see a trio of toms, which provided a half hour of entertainment, but no deer found interest in the corn until a half hour before dark. Three does stepped out as the sun began to set. We watched them for as long as we could in hope that a buck would follow, but none did. With only minutes of shooting time left, I reminded Bella that this might be the only chance she gets. She reached for the rifle and began to prepare for her shot.
Eventually, the largest doe presented a broad sight shot with only moments left before time ran out. Bella seized the opportunity and drove a round home at 60 yards. Again, I heard the loud "THWUMP", but this time she didn't take a step. She dropped in her tracks and kicked only once before expiring. Inspection revealed a perfectly placed shot that landed straight up the back edge of the front leg.
The next day's hunt was uneventful. We had resolved to hunt until the last minute in an effort to fill her buck tag, but we only saw a single coyote on Sunday. At dusk, we headed north again.
Colorado Bend State Park Youth Deer Either Sex Hunt (Dec 2-3)
We knew that Daughtrey had likely been our best chance at a big buck, but this hunt would be our best chance for numbers. The Hill Country is crawling with deer, and those found in State Parks are often not the most skittish of their kind. We had a day and a half to hunt, and three either sex tags that we could fill. Additionally, Bella had performed at a very high level on the previous two hunts.
We were assigned to a sizable chunk of land, and it didn't take long for the to find a field that had a handfull of trees that had been girdled by rubbing bucks. I quickly got to work cutting into a stand of cedars and brushing my pop-up into the clump. Once I was confident in my blind placement, I scattered a bag of corn, attempting to set up a 50-75 yard shot.
That Saturday evening, we sat quietly, observing an empty field for hours. Once in a while we'd hear a doe blow from somewhere on the other side of the brush behind us, but not much else... until an hour before dark. When I first saw him, I wasn't sure what he was. He passed like a ghost behind a line of dried up cedars, and I was only aware of his presence in the way that a veteran hunter "feels something is near" and "thought he might have seen movement in the shadows". As I inspected the area with my binoculars his shape began to take form. I knew he was a buck, but I didn't yet know how big he was. I handed Bella the rifle and told her to get ready. She was on him with the scope immediately. I was witnessing my daughter become a tiny but dangerous predator. She stared through the scope with intense focus, shaking slightly all the while.
As the buck cleared the cedars, I quickly realized that he was easily the largest 8 point I had ever seen while afield. Unfortunately, he wasn't interested in our corn and was merely passing from one brush line to another. More unfortunate still was the fact that he had chose a low spot as his path of travel. We watched as he walked slowly across 100 yards of open ground with his vitals concealed the entire time by the high grass of the rise between him and us. And thus, he walked out of our lives forever.
Bella was visibly rattled, but filled with hope. This was, after all, only the first night. We packed up and headed to camp empty handed.
We had high hopes as we sat in darkness the next morning. We had come to play for keeps, but the opposing team was reluctant to show. Finally, late in the morning, a young Hill Country 8 appeared out of nowhere a mere 20 yards from the blind. Bella, still carrying a bit of anxiety from the night before, began to shake. The young buck picked up on this quickly, but reluctantly tolerated it in favor of the corn. He did not, however, tolerate the click of the safety, which Bella had swept to the off position to swiftly and too loudly. He bounded away without stopping. That was the end of the Sunday morning hunt.
I knew at this point that we were simply in a bad spot. We had seen dozens of deer along the park roads, yet only two bucks in this field. As we prepared to call it a morning, I told Bella, "I want to move. We haven't seen nearly as many deer as we should. Now, this will be risky but I think it's the right move. We can stay here, or we can move. If we move, we might not see a thing, or it might be our turning point. Your hunt, your call." She paused for a moment, then said, "I think we have to move." So move we did.
We relocated the blind, headed to pack up camp before the evening hunt, and made our way back to the blind. As the hours ticked by I became worried that we had made a mistake. The deer didn't show until sunset. Two does wandered into our area at around 130 yards, feeding the wrong direction. Bella quickly stated that she would be happy with a doe, as long as we could get an ethical shot. Just as all seemed hopeless, the pair of does blew and bounded in our direction. Something had spooked them right back into our hands, but they stopped short, loitering behind a bush at 90 yards.
Bella looked my way and asked if she could start getting ready for a shot. I agreed, but informed her that if I didn't have confidence in the shot, I would call it off. She nodded. Given the distance, I dialed the zoom up to 9 and handed her the rifle. As she observed the two does, she began to shake. First it was a gentle tremor, but it soon grew to an alarming, bone rattling shudder. I was losing confidence. To make matters worse. Two more does slipped quickly across our lane at a mere 30 yards, but with the rifle zoomed so high and their haste in crossing, Bella was unable to shift targets and her frustration and anxiety reached a fever pitch. My elbow was rested on her chair and I could feel the earthquake that was contained to her world alone. It was getting darker and the does were still only presenting momentary shot opportunities. "Go ahead and take it off safe", I whispered,"but DO NOT SHOOT unless you get control of yourself. At 90 yards, I knew this shot would be challenging for her under the best circumstances. "I won't" she whispered back. As I peered through my binoculars, I whispered "call our which deer (right or left) you are shooting before you fire". "Yes sir". I've been to combat twice, and I've never seen the amount of nervousness, excitement, and adrenaline that I was witnessing unfold within my little girl. What happened next will stay with me as long as I live.
My elbow was on her chair, which was doing it's best impression of the funky chicken. I glanced at the muzzle of the rifle only to find it VIOLENTLY tracing figure 8s in the air from it's rest atop the tripod. "You've got to get control of yourself or you can't shoot" I warned. "We owe the deer a clean and quick death. You have to be accurate." "I know sir. I've got it." My eyes returned to my binos as I leaned toward the opening in the blind to watch for impact in case she shot. I heard her take a deep breath and the energy in the blind shifted as quickly as the wind ahead of a cold front. The chair suddenly became as still as if it were bolted to the ground. Her previously ragged breaths ceased and she drew one even breath after the other, then paused. "Left" she called with the calm tone of someone simply choosing a hand in a cheesy magic trick. BOOM! I was suddenly blind, deaf, and disoriented! In my effort to watch her impact, I had leaned forward too far. The muzzle break had been a mere 2-3 feet immediately to the right of my face when she fired. I was so jarred that I nearly thew my binos out of the blind. Clearly I didn't see the impact but still ... THWUMP! She had not only pulled herself together but she had hit her target! I tried not to get too optimistic, knowing that this would likely be a tracking job in the dark.
We quickly broke down the blind and prepared for the pack out. after 10 minutes we went down under failing light to check for blood. Halfway down the hill it became clear... the white belly shone like a beacon in the twilight. She had not taken a step. The round had impacted neatly on the front edge of the shoulder while she stood broadside.
With that, our season ended. We had an amazing time on all three hunts. We owe Texas Parks and Wildlife a big shout out and thank you, as staff were friendly and ready to help at every single location, and shared the joy of the harvest with my baby girl each time we checked in.
Take your kids hunting folks. Nothing else like it on earth. I've really enjoyed watching my little girl blossom as a hunter. She's hooked for life. While we didn't get her a buck, we made some great memories and filled the freezer with some high quality protein.
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