Brock's First Deer (written by Clint)

Brock and I headed up to some property North of Great Falls for the two day youth deer season.  Brock has worked hard to become a good marksman.  It didn't come easy for me and it hasn't come easy for him.  Brock has come a long ways with his shooting and I hoped this year he was prepared to take his first deer.    We arrived at the hunting area and hiked about fore or five miles through the coulees and canyons along the river. We saw some deer, some were close, some were too close, and some were too far.  We returned to camp, and we were both tired  and ready for a nap.  We set up the camp at about 2:00 pm made a late lunch and Brock took a quick cat nap.  I woke Brock up and got him ready for the second round, the evening hunt.  We went to a large alfalfa field where both mule deer and whitetails were feeding.  Upon our arrival, we saw four whitetails in the field feeding.   The conditions were poor, it was warm and, dry with swirling wind.  Our bad luck continued and just as we were about to get into range, the deer smelled us,  (that is my excuse) and evacuated from the field.  About a half an hour later, they came back out saw us, and ran all the way around us and left for good.  One look at Brock and I could see he was crushed.  It was only our first day, but we had numerous encounters, and just had not been able to put it all together.  As we were stewing in despair and defeat, I looked up and saw a deer walking towards us.  It was a lone whitetail, with no idea it was walking into the danger zone.  The deer was walking strait towards us, and I told Brock if he was ready, shoot the deer in his chest.   Brock did fabulous, at the shot the deer stumbled, turned and ran back into the river bottom. It was a tense few minutes, We didn't find any blood after tracking the deer to the river bottom.  Once at the river bottom the deer had to go down a steep slope.  I found ample blood, which raised our hopes, and Brock followed the sign to the deer, his first. Brock will remember this deer for the rest of his life, as I remember mine, and my father remembers his.  It is a rite of passage, I couldn't be more proud of him or happier for him.  I helped  Brock field dress his deer, not a trophy by television standards, but by far the biggest little buck of his life.  Congrats Brock! I love you.  As Brock packed his own deer out to the truck on his back in the fading light Canada geese were flying low over our heads to land in the river for the night.  Coyotes were howling, and a hunter was born.  

 We worked hard, hiking all day and looking for deer.  Finally, it all came together and we found a deer in the right spot. Brock did great and made a wonderful shot on a nice little spike. 

Congratulations Brock!!! 

 Here is Brock with a little war paint.  I am so happy for him!

and Brock even packed out his own deer!!!! :)