I was 15. It was my first season and I killed a doe fawn. I was hooked! I remember wearing out a groove in our lawn walking back and forth retrieving my arrows from the target. Seems like yesterday!
14, shot a nice mature doe at 35 yards. I had missed a bunch and messed up a few opportunities. She didn't look like she was coming any closer so I let one fly and double lunged her. She only ran about 65 yards, but as soon as I shot her I took off on foot and ran all the way back to the house (3/4 mile) as fast as I could and got my dad. After he helped track her I was jumping up and down with excitement!
13. I'll never forget walking up on that doe with my father. We ran out of blood and I thought for sure it was over. My Dad had me stay at last blood while he followed tracks and he found her about 50 yards further. He didn't tell me she was down and he came back to help me follow the tracks as he showed me what to look for. I was concentrating hard, looking at the ground when I got within 10'. My Dad got a good laugh and it was an exciting moment for the both of us.
I had just turned 16. Shortly after we recovered her my old man said to me "Well, you finally killed your first deer. Now you just need to get your drivers license and get laid and you'll be a man". Ah, the good ol' days.
I was 15 and killed a doe with my Pearson Bushmaster or brushmaster (can't remember exactly). She was quartering away hard and my broadhead skimmed her hind quarter and went in the rib cage.
