Spring of 2010

Your average high school sophomore girl would spend spring break at the beach trying to get a tan, or at the mall shopping for swim suits, maybe on the phone and painting her nails. Well, I was not your average high school sophomore girl. I love the beach and have spent spring break there, but I can get just as good of a tan while fishing. Which is mostly what I did, plus some mudriding, turkey hunting, and horseback riding.
I made a mudhole at the beginning of the year by running the hose in my backyard and cutting donuts with my racing fourwheeler. My mom loved it..HA not! Looking back I don't know how they allowed me to keep my mudhole for months, but I'm grateful that they did because it was fabulous.
I went turkey hunting for the first time with my dad and our friend Tony Vidrine (wildlife biologist & expert turkey caller). We were out all day with him, taking naps against trees, moving decoys around, listening to turkeys, and just having a good time. I tell you what though, those birds are very smart, especially the big fat ones. They gobbled around us in circles, but never came in sight.
I also went to the camp in St. Francisville with Kelsie for a hog hunt, which turned into more fourwheeler riding, some fishing & laying out by the pond, and shooting the .22.
Oh and then I did some mudriding with Stacey, followed by riding her horses. But not just riding them around the pasture, we also rode/swam them through the pond, which was so much fun--even when we fell off!
Hallie and I went mudriding too, in Sherburne WMA (wildlife management area). Where we got stuck and un-stuck more than a few times. We went through high water, and rode along the Achafalaya. We saw a couple snakes and a lot of alligators, but we weren't scared of a single thing.
My family & I made a short trip to a friend's farm in Alabama, where you will never guess what I did. Okay so you probably did guess it...I rode fourwheelers, drove a big Dodge Ram turbodiesel around, caught some nice 'bama bass, and shot a lot of big guns. This is when I broke my fishing pole. I had a big bass on the line and he tried to swim under the dock, so I put my hand out on the pole--big mistake. It snapped, but I still got the fish so its okay!! I then got my ugly stik and open-faced Shakespeare/Shimano that I also love.
This is what my Spring looked like:

Getting into Archery

The first time I ever shot a bow was summer of 2007 or 2008, it was a youth recurve bow at Kanakuk camp in Missouri. Kanakuk is a christian athletic & outdoors camp for kids/teens. Rachel and Tim both worked there as counselors when they were in college. They sent me two years in a row to Kanakuk's "k-seven." I did a lot of things for the first time here, like sail a sailboat for instance.
After I showed an interest in archery, Tim gave me an old compound bow that he used to hunt with when he was a boy. It was set for about 25 pounds and had one pin on the sight, set at 20 yards. I practiced and practiced until I started shooting groups of arrows that touched each other. I hunted with it, and watched the same doe with her babies in a pine thicket in Simsboro, LA each time. I never tried to shoot her, I just enjoyed seeing her and the babies. When gun season came, I didn't practice as much or bow-hunt much.
The summer of 2010 my dad dropped me off at the Taylor's house for a pool party and he went to Bass Pro Shop's member night. He called me about 2 hours later very excited, he won a compound bow! Sadly, he cannot shoot a compound bow because of his shoulder...so he got the bow for me. It was a Redhead Kronik, made by Diamond. We had the draw length adjusted for me and I started shooting 35 pounds. I had 3 pins on this sight, with a light. I hunted with this bow for about a year before I got a deer with it. This is when I started to learn more a little bit more about deer behavior. It was such a challenge to get that close to the deer, or to get them to come that close to you (within 30 yards). I loved it! It is a totally different experience to hear the deer walking up and sometimes smelling you, they stare you down, and it makes your heart race a thousand miles an hour it feels like! You have to take extra precautions, such as camo face paint or mask, scent-prevent wash your clothes, body, and hair, then spray yourself down with scent-prevent spray. This is because the deer have great noses and you will be very close to them. You have to sit in a different type of stand, like a ground blind, ladder stand, or climbing stand.
Soon I will share the story of my first bow kill!

The Kronik

Dove Hunt

My first ever dove hunt. With me I took a Ducks Unlimited engraved Whistler Mossberg 20 gauge pump shotgun. My dad's friend, Mr. Sonny had loaned it to us a while back. Mr. Sonny "bought it for his daughter" (before she was even born) and it had never been shot. When I went to load my gun, I realized this. We had to take the plug out, cut it, and put it back in. I thought it was very cool that I was the first person to shoot this beautiful gun. Too bad I could hardly hit a dove with it. I still had fun and ended up going again when I got back home--just down the road from my house actually. I got a little better thanks to Tim reminding me a few good times how to lead the birds' flight path. I also learned how to distinguish doves from other birds by the way they fly. When we were done hunting, the doves were surprisingly easy to clean. They are also very tasty.

Running Dogs on Christmas Eve 2009

It was my freshmen year in highschool and my family & I were headed up to Simsboro (a little town in north Louisiana just outside of Ruston) to visit and hunt. I loved this place so much and decided that I had to bring one of my best friends, Hallie, with me. I had big plans made for us to go late night mudriding, deer hunting (still & running dogs), and coonhunting. She had never run dogs before or coon hunted. I was also pretty excited because I killed my big buck on Halloween that year and decided that holidays must be lucky!
The way we run dogs in Simsboro is not the same way that most people do. We all pile up into 4 wheel drive trucks (mostly old toyota tacomas on super swampers, with KC lights) with CB radios. We let the dogs (beagles) loose on one of our large properties, and listen carefully to what they tell us by the pitch and length of their barks/howls. My favorite dogs were Billy Bob and Troublecat, rest in peace babies--they lived a long happy life and ran many a deer up. We communicate with each other on the radios, so we can know where each person is or is headed at all times. Most people use shotguns, I personally used my brand new model 700 Remington .308 rifle (an early Christmas present and reward for killing my first deer) during this hunt & Hallie used Tim's .270. When we can tell that the dogs are on a deer's trail, we drive (off road) in the direction that they are headed and get a good lil ways ahead of them. Sometimes the deer are way ahead of the dogs or will slip through when they hear the dogs.
At one point we were on Clark Cantebury's family land, where they have some chicken houses. Tim, Hallie, and I were standing on a pipeline and a red/gray fox popped out and started toward the chicken houses. "Shoot it!" Tim said. So I instantly dropped to one knee, threw up my gun and shot. Just so you know, it was & is currently illegal to hunt foxes in Louisiana, however it is legal to kill them if they are consider a nuisance. In this case we were not hunting fox, we were hunting deer, and the fox was a nuisance in this area. I respect all animals, and I do not condone killing them just for the heck of it, I want to make that very clear! Rachel, my sister, actually had a pet fox (she had a special license for it) that we kept and eventually released. I miss that cuddly thing but he was still a wild animal, not meant to be a pet. Anyway, I really wanted to mount this fox I shot because it was so beautiful, but it was shot with my .308 when it probably should have been shot with a little bit smaller round. So I settled for keeping the pelt and still have it today.
Later, we rode around another property (the Durretts' maybe) and Tim, Hallie, and I stopped at a well sight. Hallie and Tim climbed the well tower as we could hear the dogs in the distance getting closer. I spotted a doe through the trees and tried to point her out, "Shoot her Hallie!" Neither her or Tim could see her, but I could still tell exactly where she was. It is a bit difficult to shoot a deer on the run, with a rifle, especially when you're shooting through branches and brush. I shot, BANG..BANG..BANG, chambering rounds as fast as I could. I'm not sure if I hit her on the first, second, or third shot, but I hit her and she went down! Tim taught me how to field dress a deer that day, which is gutting it without skinning it, it is quick and easy (just don't pop the stomach open by accident!) and makes it easier to get up into the bed of a truck. The deer weighed about 120-130 pounds. This was my second deer ever, first doe ever, and first deer with my new gun. I killed my first deer/buck on Halloween, and my second deer on Christmas Eve Day, so far my holiday luck theory had proven true.
Hallie & I made some great memories that Christmas break. We got stuck in a lot of mud riding fourwheelers, she shot her first coon, and we made jokes sitting in the deer stand. On one of our last days we hunted a huge field on the Atkins' (Tim's parents) family's property. It wasn't too long after we climbed into the black box stand that Hallie fell asleep...I'm talkin' head back, mouth open, best-sleep-you'll-ever-get. It is also believed by some hunters, that sleeping will bring the deer out if you're lucky, and you will wake up to see them standing there...just ask my dad about that one! I had a pretty good feeling about that morning and since I already got my deer, I wanted to make sure my best friend had another opportunity to get one. I watched the far edge of the woods (about 350 yards away) for any sign of movement. As soon as he finally poked his head out of the woods, I woke Hallie up, "It's a spike, you can go ahead and shoot him." He was walking about 250-300 yards out in front of us when he turned broadside and she took her shot. Tim and his dad came out with Buster, a walker hound, to help look for the deer. We looked everywhere, no sign of blood, no bullet, nothing, and Buster didn't find him either--he was the one that got away. Even the best of us miss from time to time, it just makes it that much more addicting.

"Grandpa said Nothin's Closer to God than a Girl with a Fishing Rod"

Growing up, my dad has always told me stories of his grandfather, "Pop" Griffith. I never got the chance to meet him, but I know he was a great man and every time I go fishing I feel that Pop is with me. There are a few stories I remember my dad telling me on multiple occasions and I would ask to hear them again and again. The one I remember most is "The One That Got Away." One day Pop was fishing out in boat, doing what he loved. He got a fish on the line that put up a big fight and he was having some trouble, but Pop didn't give up, he fought back. He reeled and reeled, until finally the fish was in the boat. The fight was done. The fish did not get away, but Pop did, and he wouldn't have wanted to go any other way. My dad has many memories of Pop taking him fishing, and I know my dad looked up to Pop. He even became a preacher just like Pop was.
I started fishing with my dad when I was very young, probably 5 or 6 years old. He taught me everything, what snacks to bring, what bait to use, how to bait the hook, weight the line, and put the cork on. He taught me how to find worms in the backyard. He taught me how to tightline for catfish and how to set yo-yo's. He taught me how to cast a line, set the hook just right, and adjust the drag. Eventually, I learned that you don't have to re-cast every 45 seconds (in most cases), and that it is okay when the fish gets away. Most importantly I learned why they call it "fishing" and not "catching"
My earliest fishing memories were at Mr. Sam's ponds in Ponchatoula, LA and at Mr. Chronister's lake house in Arkansas. We used to go out to Mr. Sam's ponds and catch mostly catfish, my favorite. I remember feeding the fish, too. One day, I was nearly traumatized when I caught a turtle...I was so excited, I thought this was good. Then Mr. Sam just cut his head off without saying a word. I didn't know that this was the only way to get a turtle off of your hook. I started out fishing with a Zebco 33, just like my dad did when he was younger--except mine was lime green and orange. When we went to the lake house I would wake up as soon as the light hit my window, run downstairs, grab my pole, and go sit by my dad at the end of the dock. He had been there with his cup of coffee for probably an hour already, with a couple fish in the bucket. I remember hating the crickets because it was easier to hook myself--which was rough for a little girl like me the first few times. We would sit there and watch big Shoepick, or Buffalo Fish (not usually what ya wanna catch) come up to our bait, and my dad would dip the tip of his pole into the water to spook them off. We caught a couple small alligator gars, and I was a little bit of a scaredy cat once they came out of the water. The biggest catfish I have ever seen was one day out on that dock. I never felt something so heavy on the other end of a pole. I was struggling to reel it in and kept yelling "Get the net Daddy, he's gonna get away, help!!" But Dad insisted, "Keep reeling bud', you almost got 'em!" I finally saw the mouth come up out of the water and it was probably as wide as my body was at the time. One more crank...and snap, he was gone. My line broke and I was more than bummed, I'm pretty sure I cried and went inside. 10 minutes later I was back outside and Dad had my line fixed. That night we went to the nearest Bass Pro Shop (a tradition on vacations--we have been to almost all of them) and I got a new big girl fishing pole. This one was red, and we put spiderwire braided line on it, so I could get that one that got away (the simple 8lb-test-line I had before did not impress me). This pole eventually broke on another trip to Alabama, where I went to Bass Pro and bought an Ugly Stik (I recommend you get one if you don't have one), but that is another story that I will save for another post. Oh by the way, I now own enough fishing poles to open my own Bass Pro pretty much--including a hot pink "Broad Rod" that I won in a photo contest.
Another favorite fishing spot of mine is Pin Oak Mallards Duck Club in Rayville (north Louisiana), I recall comparing a summer out there to a summer at Disney World. I have never been duck hunting there (I know the Duck Commander crew goes sometimes), but I have caught some fish at that place, can I tell you!! Summer of 2007 or 2008 was my first time out at the Pin Oak Lodge. I had a blast riding around on the several fourwheelers on the trails and in the mud, Jeep, the golden retriever would either ride with me or run next to me the whole time. When it came time to fish on the big man-made body of water, I was ready. I had never really been bass fishing and was dying to catch some bass. Mr. Billy McConnel took us out on a little bass boat, and taught me the just of it. Some people never catch on, but I did, literally. About 10 minutes into that morning's trip, I was out-fishing Mr. Billy, a master bass fisherman, and my dad too. Cast after cast I was reeling them in. We had a few doubles (2 people have a fish on at the same time) and even a triple that day! And of course, I caught the biggest fish. We caught over 20 bass that morning, about a dozen keepers, at least 10 of which I caught. We didn't catch quite that many in the afternoon, but we still caught a lot! I was definitely "hooked" to say the least. That night we had a very delicious fish fry. Thank you Mr. Billy for teaching me how to catch some good Louisiana bass! Fishing is definitely in my blood!

Left to Right: Dad, his dad, Robert AKA Gramps, and lil bro, Russel AKA Uncle Rusty "New Years 1992. Lake Ponchartrain launched south of Ponchatoula. We had a box full in 2 hours. Hooking them in pairs and even scooping some that spit the shrimp baited hook using a long handled net. Lots of Yee Haws that day!"

Another Deer Stand Adventure w/ Rachel

This story takes place in Simsboro, LA at the end of the 2009-10 deer season, in mid/late January. So I was a freshmen in high school. Rachel and Tim had not filled a deer tag yet and it was the last day of gun season. It had been a good year for me, I killed my first deer, an 8pt and I killed a doe while running dogs. On this morning, I decided to tag along with Rachel and we sat in the black stand over the big field. Not too long after we got settled in, I said to Rachel "I think I'm gonna be sick." She told me to go to sleep and so I did. I woke up after a lil while and announced "I'm gonna throw up," and immediately I stuck my head out the front window of the deer stand & the fun began. Rachel patted my back to let me know it was gonna be okay, and I was glad to be getting it out of my system. As she was comforting me, she said "I see a deer." I stopped and looked to my left (head still hanging out the window). "I see four deer!! Shoot one!" I told her as I pulled my head in. She stuck the .270 out the window and tried to decide which one was bigger than the rest. I could hear her breathing heavy, and whispered "relax." One deep breath later the doe dropped to the ground. The other three still stood there and Rachel gave me the gun to see if I could get one, but when I got them in my sights they were bounding off to the woods. I think I remember puking at least one more time, but it must have been good luck to get sick in the stand! I have another story where someone got sick and a big buck came out minutes later, but you will have to wait to read about that one!

Pullin' Pranks

One weekend I went with Mr. Tommy to do some hog hunting in St. Francisville and pick up my deer mount from the taxidermist. I sat on a stand by a big creek where I saw nothing but a coon and decided to take him out. When Mr. Tommy came to my stand he asked if I "got em?" I showed him the big fat coon and he laughed. We put it in the back of the Mule (a side by side ATV) and went to meet up with his nephew Drew, and Drew's friend, Taylor. We had the coon hidden when they pulled up and Mr. Tommy had to mess with them a little bit, of course. I can't remember what he told them it was, but when he pulled the coon out, they jumped and we all got a good laugh. Mr. Tommy has this amazing, deep laugh that comes from his stomach, my words can't do it justice but it makes my day when I hear it and my dad still tries to imitate his laugh sometimes (unsuccessfully). Later we took the coon to a friend of his who cooks them and eats them. I also remember earlier in the day, Drew carrying my mount from the truck and pretending like he was going to drop it, to be funny. I used to make boys cry all the time, and if he would have dropped my deer I would have dropped him like a rock, but just to be funny. That night we ordered from "The Oxbow" --one of the best restaurants in south Louisiana, in my opinion. Sadly, it is no longer open. Mr. Tommy & I went to pick up the food and when we walked in, we were still in camo (I even had my headlight on still), meanwhile everyone else is all fancy lookin'. A lady in a fur coat approached us, "Did y'all get a deer?" Mr. Tommy answered, "No ma'am, it's not deer season." "Well what season is it?" she asked. "Why, it's mink season!" he smiled. The lady asked "Oh, how do you hunt mink?" Mr. Tommy told her "Well you turn on this soft, slow music, and they come dancing out of the woods and you shoot them." She had no idea that he was joking and asked "Did y'all have any luck today?" "Oh sure, we got one that looks just like your coat there!" Mr. Tommy winked at me. We laughed so hard when we left The Oxbow and each time we told the story after that.
The next day, Sunday, my parents were still at church when Mr. Tommy dropped me off. I took it upon myself to find a spot to hang my deer up, even though Mom said it had to go in my room. I took one of the pictures down off the living room wall and put my deer there, right above the couch. I went and sat at the end of the hallway with the video camera and waited until I heard the car pull up. I wish I could find that video!! If I do, I will add it to this post. My mom walked in, and had to take a second look, "AAHHHH! What is that on my wall!?" I fell over laughing, and Dad thought it was pretty good too. I ended up putting the picture back up, but Dad and I convinced her to let us keep it in the living room, for at least 30 days (which turned into a couple years before I moved it to my room). It is only fair that I could hang my deer where everyone could see it, I mean Mom has an entire wall covered in crosses so she could at least give up a section of "her walls."

Big Pig

My brother-in-law, Tim, and I were deer hunting one afternoon and did not see any deer. We heard something running through the leaves and saw a big hog cross the shooting lane. Tim handed me his .270 and told me to shoot it when it came out into the clear again. I said "No, you shoot it!" So he took the gun and sure it enough, it came out straight in front of us and he popped it. We donated this hog instead of processing it and eating it ourselves, so I didn't really see the point in killing it at this time. It was not long at all before I learned how much of a nuisance these animals really are. Over time I have seen them tear up many, many food plots, ruin pastures, make huge messes, and scare deer away. They are nothing but trouble, multiplying like crazy too.

Cassoulet of Venison recipe by Chef John Folse

PREP TIME: 2 Hours SERVES: 8-10
	COMMENT: Cassoulet can be best described as any casserole containing white beans topped with a rich, game stew and baked. This venison recipe is magnificent for the Louisiana palate. It is a perfect way to make use of all that extra venison in the freezer. Try it with duck and goose as well. INGREDIENTS: 5 pounds venison stew meat, cubed 1 (15-ounce) can Great Northern white beans, drained 2 cups Burgundy wine 1 pound bacon cubed 3 cups onions, diced 2 cups celery, diced 1 cup bell pepper, diced 20 cloves garlic 2 bay leaves 1 tbsp fresh thyme, chopped 1 tbsp fresh sage, chopped 3 cups beef or venison broth 1 cup button mushrooms, sliced 1 cup oyster mushrooms, sliced 1 cup tomatoes, diced 1 tsp sugar 24 small pearl onions 2 cups carrots, diced 2 cups potatoes, diced 1 cup green onion, sliced ½ cup parsley, chopped salt and pepper to taste 1 cup egg wash (1 egg and 1 cup skim milk, blended) 4 (9-inch) Pillsbury prepared pie shells METHOD: In a large mixing bowl, combine cubed venison with Burgundy wine. Season lightly with salt and pepper, blend well and allow to sit at room temperature for 2-3 hours. While venison is marinating, sauté bacon in a large Dutch oven over medium high heat to render fat and brown bacon. Do not scorch the fat. Remove the bacon with a slotted spoon, chop and set aside. Remove the venison from the liquid and reserve marinade, draining the liquid well. Sauté in bacon fat until brown on all sides. Add onions, celery, bell pepper and garlic and sauté 3-5 minutes or until vegetables are wilted. Add bay leaves, thyme and sage, blending well into the meat mixture. Add reserved marinade and broth. Bring to a rolling boil, reduce to simmer and add mushrooms, tomatoes, sugar, pearl onions and 1/2 of the chopped bacon. Cover and cook until tender over medium-high heat, approximately 2 ½ hours, stirring occasionally. Additional stock may be necessary during the cooking procedure to keep the meat moist and juicy. When meat is tender, add carrots, potatoes, green onions and parsley. Season to taste using salt and pepper. Cook until potatoes are tender, but not falling apart. They should retain their cubed appearance. Preheat oven to 350 F. Place an equal amount of white beans in 8 individual au-gratin or soufflé-type dishes and place an equal amount of the venison stew over the beans. Make sure that an equal amount of garlic and pearl onions are added to each dish. Top with remaining bacon. It is important that each dish have ample sauce. Using a pastry brush, paint a small amount of the egg mixture on the rim of each dish. Cut a portion of the pie crust to fit over each rim by ¼-inch and press securely over the top of the dish to seal in the contents. Paint the top of the pastry with a small amount of egg wash for even browning. Using the tip of a pairing knife, cut two small steam vent holes in the top of the pastry. Bake until crust is golden brown and flaky, approximately 20-30 minutes.

Mouse Hunt

About a month after I shot my 8pt, we went back to Mr. Tommy's place. I sat in the same stand, but by myself this time. As the sun was setting the same deer came out as before, but without the big buck of course. Mr. Tommy had told me that from now I must only shoot deer as big as my first one, or bigger (with a spead outside the ears). I had no desire to shoot the 4pt anyway, so i picked out a big fat doe and slowly squeezed off a round. She rolled on the ground and staggered away into the woods. Shortly after I saw a bobcat cruise by, I aimed and pulled the trigger...click. I had forgotten to chamber a round and the bobcat was out of sight. When my dad came we could not find the deer in all the thick brush and finally decided to come back in the morning.
Now, when we came back my sister Rachel and I sat in the same stand for a morning hunt. We were so excited to see what would come out (she actually thought she would get the chance at killing a bigger buck than me). After sitting for a while we noticed an occasional squeaking sound, but thought nothing of it. The squeaking became more frequent and Rachel asked if it could be a mouse, I told her no but was wondering the same thing. Finally we saw him, and for some reason we felt the need to get up in our chairs. Rachel was standing up in an office chair with my gun out the window...kids this is not how you practice gun safety! I picked up something to whack the mouse with if he attacked. I threw him out the window and put my feet back down. The next thing we know, the little stinker came climbing up the ladder and under the door--we both shrieked and I started stomping. We agreed that he was not going away and the deer were definitely not coming out now, so we got down after calling my dad (who was not interested in coming to our rescue although he could hear us from his stand). We decided to settle for a nap in the grass...About a week later a 10pt with a split brow tine was killed on a morning hunt in the "mouse stand."
When everyone came to look for the deer we found a nice bloodtrail and followed it through the brush. There was one big spot where it was evident that she laid there and started to bleed out. We must have pushed her and caused her to jump up the previous night because the bloodtrail stopped here (a deer's adrenaline kicks in and can sometimes stop the bleeding). The brush opened up and the land dropped off into a big hardwood bottom (very common around St. Francisville area). This deer got away and I felt awful that I injured her. This is why it is important to have your gun sighted in and checked a few times a year, especially when traveling with it a lot. This alone does not prevent injuring animals, but one must also make a good, vital organ shot.
I will never forget the story of our famous mouse hunt or the important lesson I learned about shot placement.

First Deer

Mr. Tommy Sullivan called up my dad and invited us to his hunting lease in St. Francisville for youth weekend. We accepted the invitation and loaded down the Chevy Silverado. When we arrived at Mr. Tommy's place, all i had was a shotgun so he lended me a Remington .308 model seven rifle, which belonged to his nephew Drew. It was Halloween (2009), and as a freshmen in highschool I was wondering if I should have stayed home and ran around with my friends. I climbed up in a box stand with my dad and looked out over a beautiful green plot. I was very glad that I came. My mom called my dad on the phone and I suggested that he not answer it, but of course he did. She wanted to talk to me so I took the phone. She was talking very loudly and could not hear my whispers, she was out shopping and asking me about school clothes I needed. I gave the phone back to Dad, aggravated and thinking that we wouldn't see any deer after all that racket. I was able to relax and enjoy the beauty of the earth, "West Feliciana is God's country" as Mr. Tommy said. My dad took out an apple and cut it up with his old pocket knife. As I finished the last piece, four does came out from the right, one after the other. My dad watched in his binoculars as a four point followed them out, and then a big buck. "It's an eight point Ruthie, that's your deer." I leaned forward with the gun against my shoulder, and got him in the scope. He was huge and I was just about hyperventilating. "Take a deep breath, thumb off the safety...whenever you're ready.." And before he could say another word, BANG! The monster took a few last stumbles and laid down at the edge of the food plot. "I got him, right!?" "Yeah you got him, good shot buddy!" I put the empty .308 round in my pocket and begged Dad to let me climb down. It felt like we waited forever & I promise you, that sucker was not getting back up! When I stood up, my legs were weak and I practically jumped out of the stand. We walked over to the buck and nudged him--dead as a doornail! We took a picture and drug him to the middle of the plot. Mr. Tommy came riding up on the golf cart with a big grin, chuckling. "When I told you to shoot anything you wanted, I didn't expect you to shoot the biggest deer on my property!" He was so excited; Mr. Tommy loves seeing kids fired up about things like this. He helped me skin it so we could get it mounted and processed. I truly appreciate all of the hard work he put in, before my kill and after my kill. The deer weighed over 200lbs (we burned up the golf cart trying to haul him up the hill), 17 inch inside spread, with thick, long tines. He had nice symmetry. A very mature deer too, we did not get to age him by the teeth, but by looking at him you can tell he is 3 and a half or 4 and half years old, at least! This is one of my greatest memories still, it was a proud day for all of us! I put the picture in my binder and all the boys at school were jealous. Deer slayer was my new nickname.