First deer. Part 1

My first deer




It all started when my now ex boyfriend got in the way of my hunting prows. Needless to say, I put my hunting before boys, and James was gone, sooner than he anticipated.

Although, I was fifteen years old at the time, I am insanely close with my parents, and both of them are involved in my hunting activities. My father always accompanies me, while my mother manages the businesses and does a phenomenal job in scrap booking. She creates photo albums, and videos.

It all started with my dad and I driving down towards the edge of Colorado, in my dad’s beat up, old 84 Toyota. Many men are proud of their new supped up vehicles, while my dad is proud of his rust and 470,000 miles on it, and the top speed of fifty five miles per hour. Needless to say, we counted every semi that passed us on the high way.

After a five hour drive, which should have been three hours, we arrived at our destination.

We quickly changed out of our blue jeans, and into our camouflage, and started looking into four the beloved whitetail deer. As soon as we feasted our eyes on wheat fields, rivers, and groves of trees, we spotted a heard, and quickly evaluated the bucks. There weren’t any shooters, but it was a good sign to see that many bucks.

As we were walking by a grove of trees, and four feet tall grass, we spotted a shiny ivory antlers, from the look of it, he looked like a nice wide and tall whitetail. As soon as we quit gasping, my soon to be buck disappeared, amongst the grass and trees. We kept an eye on that area of where he was and did not see him again.

We continued to keep our spirits high, and kept looking for other deer. To our dismay, we did not see any more monster whitetails, and I knew our only option was to go for the buck we saw earlier.

Merry Chrsitmas!

I seriously do not get why people in big stores cannot say, Merry Christmas. Instead, they are forced to say happy holidays. That's fine and all, but Christmas is a time to celebrate Jesus' birth. Therefore I am going to say Merry Christmas, that is why we are out spending thousands of dollars on gifts, to celebrate the birth of our savior.

Black Bear part 2

While we were getting my set up, my bear went down the hill. Glen quickly got his’ distressed fawn call out and called the boar back. My soon to be black bear came roaring up the hill! He put his two front feet on a stump and was furiously looking for the so called fawn. Just two hundred yards away from one of the predators that we humans fear most, Glen then said, “Take BOOOOOM him!” He was so surprised when I shot that quickly, that later on he informed me he jumped, even though he knew I was going to shoot. I shot perfectly, right in the boar’s chest. Staying on him, I watched the boar run down the hill, and then he disappeared into the deep thicket. With a few “atta girls” and a couple deep breaths, we proceeded down the mountain. Trying to settle our excitement, going down the mountain, we took our time, carefully looking for blood and tracks.


Finally, after fifteen minutes of searching, we spotted blood! Thirty yards later, there was my boar lying down, stone cold! Then the real excitement picked up! I killed my first bear! After an hour of taking pictures and celebrating, it was time to cape him out! Being a young female sure did not slow me down; I quickly earned my name in hunting camp by becoming one of the guy’s. I grabbed my skinning knife, and began skinning my Black bear, and taking away the meat that we would eat for dinner. While most people think bear is fowl tasting, I find it quite delicious, and I am raised to eat everything I kill, therefore I am not just a “horns” hunter, I take every valuable piece home with me. In addition to taking the meat back, I also believe in packing out each and every animal I harvest. As I loaded my bear skull, hide, and meat into my backpack, the guy’s helped me get it on, and also included their comments, about how I should not be this crazy of a girl. To all the women who are game to try the outdoors: we can do anything we set our mind’s to! Just because of our gender, and or size, we are not incapable; we just need to prove ourselves that we can accomplish anything. We can do the “impossible”.

I want to thank Glen Venus, the guides, and his family! It was a trip to remember! Thank you for all that you did. Not only was the hospitality unbelievable, the hunt was extraordinary!



Contact Info:

Outfitter: Glen Venus, Trophy Guide Outfitters

Phone: 250-923-4288



Gun Manufacture’s: I received my .260 Remington from my father’s pawnshop. Grandpa’s Pawn and Gun (second highest volume gun dealer in the state of Colorado)

Phone: 303-772-7952



Hunting clothes: Sitka Gear

Website: www.Sitkagear.com

Black Bear Story, part one

“Hold it! We’ve got a bear down there!” hollered my Dad from the back of the truck.

        It all started when my family and I went to British Columbia, to attend the annual Guide Outfitters Association of British Columbia. I was accepting an award that my sister had received two years prior. Within getting the award, there was also an auction full of hunts. My Dad, who was left in the ballroom, unsupervised, bought this black bear hunt, for the two of us, on Vancouver Island.

        Several weeks later, I found my self in a Chevrolet, driving logging roads, looking for anything black that moved, and singing along to every country song on the radio. It was beautiful, luscious, rugged country. With the ocean just a few miles away from us, we were on what most people would consider paradise. We had both: the ocean, and the mountains! How could anything get better!

        After several days of stalking “almost shooters” we came across my boar. We were driving at a brisk speed, right by this meadow that dips down into green grass and new trees. My dad had spotted the bear and asked our guide, Glen, to clarify if he was a shooter. While Glen was scoping him out (looking for the signs of a big boar, I was getting ready. I put two shells in my .260 and slammed the bolt down and put the safety on. Then Glen, trying to hide his excitement, said, “this is the boar we’ve been looking for, let’s get him!” I quickly became situated on Glen’s shooting sticks, but to my dismay, there were branches in the way. I then positioned myself in the back of the Chevy and got as steady as I could.