I never came from a hunting family. We fished all of the time. I picked it up later in life and passed it on to my son. This year I told him it was time to get his first buck. We hunted as much as time would allow and the only times I seemed to see antlers was when he was with his mom. November 3rd is when it all came together. Cooler temperatures and a stand nobody else had sat in and the bucks had just started pushing does. Late afternoon with plenty of daylight left, out steps a buck and he took a great shot at 70 yards. Once we got down, I found blood and knew it was a good hit. I showed him how to track and let him lead the way. 10 minutes later, he found his deer and did most of the dragging. Never has there been a more special moment to share between father and son
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