As with other sports, hunters and fisherman have to be prepared for failure. In a sport that leans in the furry and finned competitor’s favor, one must learn to deal with second place on a regular basis.
When encountering or watching a sport being played by professionals, it can seem easy. It’s only after you try and lose that you understand what it takes to win. Anyone that has played sports has to get used to persevering after a loss. Those who quit after a streak of bad luck are sure to never win. Hunting and fishing are sports that can be extremely frustrating at times. Some learn to deal with the ups and downs, while others can’t deal and quit. Of all the sports I have been involved in, hunting has had the highest failure rate. Some days just seem like you can’t do anything right. This can also extend into a full season of you-have-got-to-be-kidding-me moments. What is done during these times of dejection can make or break your entire season.
Many new sportsmen envision themselves stepping into the woods like a grocery store to simply grab some grub and head home. What a rude awakening it is to be that guy. When I started hunting, I thought all it took was a gun and some camouflage to bring home a deer. Surely an animal dumb enough to stand in the middle of the road only to be mowed down by oncoming vehicles would be easy to harvest. It only took a few days in the wood to realize hunting wasn’t as easy as I had envisioned it.
To this day, I can remember the first buck that came into range like it was yesterday. The encounter happened a few days into my second season. I first saw a doe run by, then a few minutes later, I heard something approaching from the same trail. I couldn’t believe my eyes when a nice six-point walked out of the woods, and entered the thicket I was sitting in. I was elevated in a giant old growth maple tree, which overlooked a large portion of the brush lot. I let the buck approach to within 30 yards before I readied myself for the shot. I was using a three-round semi auto 20 gauge, which would surely get the job done. I had six rounds of ammo – three in the gun and three in my pocket. The deer was walking directly at me, and if it followed the path the doe had taken, would present a good shot angle.
When I saw the deer turn and head toward the trail the doe took, I popped the safety and prepared for the shot. The deer stepped into the opening and presented a perfect broadside shot. I leveled on the buck and let one fly, to my surprise the deer just stood there. It took a second or two to realize I had missed. I aimed again and took the other two shots, the deer just continued to stand there. In full panic mode, I reached into my pocket and pulled out the other three rounds. I reloaded the gun as quietly as possible, while the deer just continued to stand there. I forced myself to relax and took the next three shots in a slow and steady manner. When the smoke cleared the buck was still standing there, as if to say is that all you’ve got.
It was about that time, that I heard my dad yell to me from across the thicket. He said, “Did you get one?” To which I replied: “No I’m out of ammo.”
I was sure I had to have hit the deer. After spending almost an hour looking for hair and blood, it became apparent that I had missed all six shots. To this day, I don’t understand how I could have missed that deer so many times. I felt so disappointed in myself, that I remember wanting to quit. My dad told me the same thing had happened to him before, and that I needed to keep trying.
Lucky for me I didn’t give up. The next hunt went much better, and I was able to harvest my first buck. It was only a four-point that had broken off one antler completely, but allowed me to see if you stick it out, you can be successful. It did bother me that I had missed the first buck, but I didn’t allow it to discourage me enough to quit.
Over the years I’ve learned to brush off a miss, although you never seem to forget them. Good wishes, and keep yourself in the game.