The last time I went on a real hunt was before I left on my mission. It was October of 1988. Dad had planned out a weekend and we took my little brothers, Michael, Robert, and John, as well as my stepbrothers Mark and Josh. We had two deer tags and Michael, Dad and I were all licensed and carrying rifles. The rest of the boys would be along for the experience and to assist in carrying the deer back to the vehicle.
We drove up northeast of Boise a ways into our designated area. We grabbed some snacks and loaded our backpacks along with some drinking water. Everyone was dressed warm and had on good shoes and socks. We left the vehicle and walked across the street to a fence that we climbed over and began hiking up into the hills. After a couple of miles we were into a good place that we could split up and scan a larger area. The younger boys were buddied up with the older boys and dad, and we made a plan as to where to meet up later. We discussed what to do if a deer was sighted and the direction we should try to send the deer if needed.
Robert went with Michael. John and Josh went with Dad. I took Mark with me. Mark was the oldest of the younger boys so he and I decided to hike to the furthest point we had planned. It wasn't really that far and we were at our location in a matter of 10 minutes or so. We located a nice hiding place that allowed us to see the majority of the landscape. I made note of the locations where Michael and Dad's groups were.
Mark and I opened up our backpacks and had a bit of our snacks and some water. We whispered as we talked but soon sat in complete silence as we both scanned the territory for any sign of life. We saw some squirrels and a raccoon. We even saw a couple of foxes out hunting. This waiting went on for about an hour and a half. Then I saw a nice buck walk out from the treeline. It was a ways out but was not too far from where my Dad was positioned. I was hoping that Dad would see it.
I stood and began to wave my bright orange hat hoping that my Dad would see my signal. I was in a position that kept me from sight of the deer. Mark continued to watch the deer and it began to walk past my Dad's position and closer to where Michael was stationed. At about that time another deer came out of the same treeline. This was a smaller doe. The doe followed the buck for about a hundred yards and then they stopped and cautiously began eating the dry grass and brush.
We watched them for a couple of minutes and then we heard a gun shot. The deer bolted back towards the treeline. Another gunshot and the buck went down hard. A third shot and the doe fell just before entering back into the trees. I could hear hollering coming from my Dad's group.
Mark and I gathered our things and began to hike to the location we had seen the deer fall. When we got to the deer, Dad was already there with John and Josh. Michael was almost there as well. I asked Dad who got the kill. He said he had seen my signal but had a hard time seeing the deer. They walked completely past them and Michael and Robert saw them first. Michael got a shot off but missed. It sent the deer running back towards him. He got two shots off quickly both hitting their marks. The first being the buck and the second the doe.
All of us were pretty excited that we had gotten our deer. This would mean some good venison and jerky for all of us that winter.
Our excitement was short lived however as it was now time to clean the animals and haul them back to the vehicle. Dad, Michael and I gutted the deer and then we quartered the buck. Michael and Dad each carried a shoulder and Robert and Mark each carried a hind quarter. The doe was kept whole. We took the back legs and cut a hole in them right around the knee area. Then we took the front legs and threaded them through the holes of the rear legs. This allowed me to stick my arms through the legs and carry the doe like a backpack. The head was draped onto my shoulder. They younger boys took turns caring the head of the buck.
As we hiked the few miles back to the vehicle there were lots of ups and downs as there were many hills. We would stop every so often so that we could catch our breath. It began to get a little dark about the time we came to a little creek. Dad decided to lighten the loads a bit so we stopped and he cut out some of the bad meat from the buck. One of the shoulders was mostly bad from where the gunshot had hit the deer. This freed someone up so they could rotate the other quarters between themselves.
I was doing OK with the doe by myself. Even though it was now the heaviest to carry, it was made easier having it situated like a backpack. I would have to adjust it every 10 minutes or so so that the head was on the opposite shoulder.
We came to a small hill and we scaled it fairly quickly. When we reached the summit we noticed the opposite side that we needed to descend was quite a distance. Probably 100 yards or so. We didn't hesitate and began down the hill. about twenty or thirty steps in I stepped on a small rock that gave way and my foot slid out from under me. I felt the sensation of falling and tried to free my arms from the deer so that I could catch myself. It didn't work. I went down with a thud and right off of the trail. Before I could try to gather myself, my momentum carried my legs over me and then I went sideways.
I can only imagine what the next scene looked like to my family. I can tell you what I saw. First I saw dirt and rocks. Then I saw sky. Then dirt and rocks again followed by sky. This repeated itself more times that I felt necessary. Unfortunately I had little say in the matter. Between each view of dirt and sky I received a hard head-butt from the deer that somehow managed to stay on my back. I felt rocks in my side and on my legs. I felt bushes being trampled. I felt hooves in my belly and chest. I thought it would never end.
To be honest, I don't remember coming to a stop. My body was numb from the tumble and my brain was dizzy from the spinning. I do remember hearing a strange noise coming from the top of the hill. I turned my head towards the sound but all I saw was the open eyes of the deer staring deeply into my soul. As I gathered my bearings I slowly rolled over to where I could see where I'd come from. There was a trail of dust in the air that ascended to the place on the trail that I had recently abandoned. Near that point
I saw my family. They were also laying on the side of the trail. Had they fallen as well? No, they had fallen from laughing so hard. And the laughing had yet to cease.
Now I was upset. I could have been really hurt and they had the nerve to laugh at me?! I stood up and hollered back at them. "Yeah, well at least I'm already at the bottom!" With that I turned and continued hiking towards the vehicle.
It didn't take them long to catch up with me because I had trouble walking straight for a while on the trail. My Dad and brothers were still chuckling as we walked up to the vehicle. I couldn't help but giggle a little myself as they began to recount what they had seen. It definitely was hilarious from their perspective.
After we loaded the vehicle and we set out I turned to my Dad and said, "At least the doe will be nice and tender".
That sent all of us into a laughing fit again. We laughed most all the way home.