The numbers prove it. Realtree fans north, south, east and west live and breathe deer hunting. These guys do, too. Hansen’s from Michigan, Brantley’s from Kentucky, and chances are their version of hunting whitetails is a lot like yours.
First Buck Friday: Kelsey Bloom
This week’s installment of First Buck Friday was sent in by Wisconsin hunter Kelsey Bloom. It’s a great story, and a heck of a nice first buck. And you've got to check out that pink skull mount!
Submit your first buck stories and photos to us by e-mailing them to rackreport [at] realtree [dot] com. Here’s Kelsey’s story, in her words:
Dear Realtree Outdoors,
After reading a friend's first buck story, I was inspired to write my own! Please read and enjoy! Also, enjoy the pictures of my first buck! I am very proud of myself for being able to hunt this guy since I didn't have the heart to hunt when I was a kid. Thanks so much! - Kelsey Bloom, Wisconsin
It had been a hard opening day for my dad and me. Three days before gun season, the owner of the land where we usually hunt told us we couldn’t hunt there this year. We scrambled to find new spots to put our stands and make sure that we had good views. We raced out Friday to put the finishing touches on and then left the woods in hopes of good luck. On Saturday, November 19th, 2011 we got up, ate breakfast, and headed out for our hunt.
I had high hopes for this hunt since last year I shot my first deer, a doe. My dad’s stand was only about 100 yards away from mine and I heard him shoot around 8. My dad got a buck. My hopes were still high, but around 9 they started dwindling. I had not seen a deer all morning and I was beginning to get cold. About 10:30 I was going to go in and warm up when my dad called. He asked, “Did you see anything yet?” I replied saying, “No, I was thinking about going in to warm up soon.” He told me he was going to get up and walk over to my stand to see if he could kick something up.
That’s when it happened. A buck and a doe came running down the hill about 30 yards away. This was it. This was my chance. The buck stopped and I took one shot. I hit him but he was still standing. I shot twice more, but missed! Dang! I had one more bullet left in my .243 caliber Remington rifle. The buck was still standing there looking confused. I had to make this one count. I shot and the buck leapt up and went running. I was not sure if I had shot and killed him.
As I reloaded my magazine, my dad came over. He heard my shots and starting trailing the buck. My adrenaline was pumping as I climbed down the stand. Dad had found my buck about 15 yards from where I had shot it and gave me a thumbs-up. I did it! My first buck! I now have a unique European mount of my 10-pointer hanging on the wall to remind me of the experience.