Personal Narrative: My Fear Of Hunting

So here's how it all started I was on a boat going to go hunt for game. Until the captain pointed out ship trap island in the distance. I heard 3 gun shots and ran to the rail to see what happened I dropped my pipe and tried to catch it but instead i plunged into the water. I swam with all my might to get to shore because the the water was freezing cold so i swam towards the shots because it meant shelter in my head then i fell asleep.I woke up and went to find some food I saw the remains of a dead animal and a rifle cartridge and some foot prints.

The next Monday coach gave us practice off so I headed home again. That night I went over to my brother's house and borrowed his shotgun because it had a fully rifled barrel with a scope. This gun was much better than mine. While I was there we talked about where he had shot his deer and where he had saw other deer. I headed home that night with little hope that I would actually get a deer at all. It was really cold when I got up the next morning. I headed out to a spot near where my brother shot his deer. As I walked out the snow covered ground crunched under my feet. I got set up in my spot and settled down for the wait. I was sitting there for about forty five minutes when I heard a noise.

The third Saturday of November was one filled with conflicting emotions: excitement, fear, optimism, and nervousness. The screeching sound of the alarm at 4:00 a.m. initiated a sense of panic and thrill throughout me; it was the opening day of the gun deer hunting season. Within minutes, I was dressed from head to toe in bright, blaze orange that could be recognized from miles away. I reluctantly, yet willingly, climbed into the truck to head to the hunting land in Adams County, Wisconsin. My stomach felt like it was tied into knots. My mind was again flooded with conflicting emotions. I began to wonder: will I get a deer? Will I not get a deer? Will I get a buck?

In the fall of 2012, I had just completed a six hour hunters education course and my father finally deemed me ready to hunt. Hunting is a tradition that has been in my family for generations. My grandpa taught my father how to hunt, and finally it was time for my father to teach me. “Once a Gerace gets his first kill, he earns the responsibilities of being a man,” That is what my Grandfather told my father many years ago, and now my father told me. Later that week, we found out that we were drawn for javelina hunting, although the hunt was not until February. For the next four months I spent every weekend at the shooting range, the determination I had for getting my first javelina was unmatched. I never wanted anything more in my life.

Leaves have all transformed to different colors, pumpkins are being hunted down, and the smell of Fall is brewing. October is here. It is not the costumes, carvings, or delicious caramel corn that gets me all hyped up, it is the opening day of duck season. Duck hunting is one of my most cherished times to spend with my dad, grandpa, and younger sister. I started tagging along with my dad at about three years old. At that age, rather than handling a gun, I handle some crayons and a coloring book in the back of the blind. Five years later I was able to start shooting on my own and still continue to.

When we finally arrived it was still pitch black out and I was more than ready to get up in our stand and listen for any sound. We started to make our way up a very large hill in the middle of the woods to reach our rally point at the top. I noticed that not too long after we left the truck I had started shaking. I tried to make myself stop, but I just couldn't. After we had gotten settled into our stand, the sun had just began to rise. Everything was happening too fast. I told myself to close my eyes and relax. To a certain extent, this did help calm me down a lot. All of a sudden, I felt my dad gently tapping on my leg, and I opened my eyes to see a doe standing about fifty yards out between two trees. I slowly raised my gun to take aim and realized I had started shaking again. I decided to aim for the center of the animal and not think about it. After I got most of the nerves out of the way I took aim and BOOM!! The deer took off running and I felt almost certain I had missed it.

This can take hours or even several attempts to see a deer, but for some reason it was my lucky day. We didn’t even have to wait for 20 minutes before we saw two bucks and a doe. My adrenaline has never shot up so fast in my entire life; it was like electricity flowing through me enhancing all my senses. I don’t remember blinking once because my eyes were open so wide taking in all this new excitement. I raised my gun slowly resting it on a shooting board that was in front of me, and looked down the scope to see the bucks a little closer. There was one off to my left about 150 yards away that was only a three pointer. As for the other one, it was a monster buck. I remember counting over 10 points on its rack and it was about 125 yards directly in front of me. I was shaking more than I ever had and I knew it was buck fever. The monster buck was walking across the far tree line headed to my right. It had stolen the doe from the little buck and was taking it to the thick woods out of sight. I was following it with my crosshairs as it walked so gingerly not having a clue on how it was being watched from afar. I had just started putting pressure on the trigger getting ready to take the shot when my scope went black. I looked up and I had let the buck get beyond my vision from the tree that was rooted in front of me. That’s when I knew it was too late and I was disappointed but only for a moment because I knew the small buck was still grazing in the field off to my

Just a typical evening driving home from work, tired from such a long day. Lis-tening to the music just trying to stay awake. All of a sudden something runs out in front of you, and without any hesitation you slam on your brakes. Next thing you know, there is a deer, that u just about hit, standing inches in front of your car. Just a typical deer running like they always do, when it gets close to dark.

The deer hunt tests your patience and in my case- accuracy. One day my brother told me to come up to him on the property. When I arrived there I caught my breath and calmed down to be able to take my best shot. After that we then situated our selves for the shot. It was a long 150 yard shot. I held my aim and didn’t even breath to be able to take the perfect shot. Once I shot, the deer all of the sudden trotted away. I had missed! However, I took three more shots, right after the third shot the deer dropped dead instantly.

For many people hunting is just something they do to pass the time, but for me it’s so much more! For me the love and passion for hunting started at a very young age, before I was even old enough to walk I was on my dad’s shoulders as he walked through a field shooting pheasants. One of the great benefits of living in Texas is there isn’t any age restrictions on hunting so if your parents think you can do it all you gotta do is go pick up a license from your local Walmart or hunting store. So at the age of four is where it all began, it was only a Russian Boar, but from that point on it just meant the world to me.

It all started one beautiful evening that seemed like just another hunt. I had basketball practice that evening but it up getting canceled for some odd reason practice never got canceled on Sundays but this Sunday was different. Deer hunting earlier in my life wasn't that special to me because of the early failure i encountered. When i was younger i missed four deer in a small time frame and eventually i gave up because all my confidence disappeared. For years my father would ask me “You gonna come with me this year?” I would sigh and tell him because all the confidence was drained from me. Well the same question came back around and i thought about it and i eventually thought about it and i decided to get back into it. I started shooting my

Out of nowhere, blood began oozing from the side of the deer’s body. Alarmed by the sound and the impact of the bullet, the deer attempted to take off, only to find that it would not be able to run for very long. The deer proceeded to take a few more weak steps, before its legs were unable to hold it up very longer and its body collapsed to the ground. It soon ran out of breath and stopped moving completely. I realized what happened and I froze. Feeling numb, mind blank, I had no idea how to react. My uncle held a grin of pride on his face as he carried the deer back to the four-wheeler, but I could not comprehend his happiness. The eyes were still glossy and the tongue remained hanging out of the deer’s mouth, now dripping in blood.

So the next day I went out to the woods again and started looking for arrows. I found a few good sticks and took them back to camp and started sharpening them. I put a little crease in the end of the arrow and then put in the quiver then I shot it and surprisingly it went pretty far probably a good 20 feet. So I took it out and started looking for food then I saw it a rabbit sitting right in front of me I put the arrow in the quiver and I shot it. I took it back to camp and I realized I had to skin it so I used my rock knife to skin it and I found another straight stick to stab the rabbit and then I cooked it over the fire. I was

After that we sat in silence for about 20 minutes until the cold began to nip at my feet and the tips of my fingers which made me very restless but I tried to do my best so I would not scare away the deer. When we hit the 60 minute mark I was bored out of my mind, I thought I would go crazy, but suddenly my Father grabbed my coat and pointed out Words the west side of the field that we were watching. I

It was about 13 degrees out and the sun had just started to peek over the mountains behind our house. It was a magnificent morning. It was one of those crisp, cold mornings with no wind and I could hear for miles and miles. I remember hearing my neighbor’s dog, Orvis, barking two miles away. I kept walking for about a quarter mile until I came upon a field that was always a hot spot for deer in the morning. It was an exciting feeling to be out in the woods with the deer, yet at the same time, a terrifying feeling. Was I going to fail yet another year of not bagging my buck? I was anxious as to what my family and friends would think of me. I needed to get a deer in the worst way.