By Bart Landsverk
Wisconsin’s 2010 youth firearm season was held in mid-October, and my son and two nephews had a special weekend. Their fathers did, too. The youth hunt gives children a chance to shoot deer before the typical gun deer season. Here are the stories about my son, Erik, and nephews Nicholas and Michael’s first deer.
Wisconsin’s 2010 youth firearm season was held in mid-October, and my son and two nephews had a special weekend. Their fathers did, too. The youth hunt gives children a chance to shoot deer before the typical gun deer season. Here are the stories about my son, Erik, and nephews Nicholas and Michael’s first deer.
Erik Landsverk Learns A Lesson
My son, Erik, was hunting whitetails for the first time during the October youth hunt. Erik is 12 and has taken a shine to hunting. I was very proud of him when he took his hunter’s safety class. He listened to the instructors, asked questions of me after the class and studied hard. We also took time to sight in the new Remington Model 870 12-gauge shotgun. Erik wasn’t used to shooting through a scope, so it was nice that Nikon’s scope provided a ton of eye relief.
I knew as a father it was my job to make this hunt the best it could be. Erik already knew that his 13-year-old cousin, Nick, had shot his first deer that morning. Nick actually shot two deer, a buck and a doe. His story will follow. Knowing that his cousin had already been successful only made my son more determined. As I looked at the trees and realized where the wind was blowing, I decided to take him to my brother Adam’s stand, which is a large box stand that fits two hunters easily. Adam’s stand is also one of the best places to see deer on our property.
Erik was very excited to have a chance to shoot his first deer. I was also excited. It is a great feeling to share your passion with your child. Youthful exuberance is infectious, and it made me smile as my son’s braces-filled grin filled the stand. And, as can be the case with inexperienced hunters, the excitement would get the best of him. Erik found out that unlike video games, getting a clean shot at a whitetail can be tougher than it looks. “I was hunting with my dad in a tree stand on Saturday night,” Erik said. “We sat about two hours, and I saw a doe. I was sitting down, and the stand was too high to see into my scope and aim at the deer. So I tried to sit on my knees to shoot, but it was harder than I thought. I couldn’t get the deer in my scope because I was too far away from the scope. Then the deer trotted away. I was so angry at myself I couldn’t believe it.”
My son was visibly upset. I told him that it was all right and that he’d have another chance in the morning. He seemed to calm down and look forward to the next day. When we arrived at camp we found out that Erik’s cousin Michael had shot his first buck. This story will also follow. This, coupled with Nick’s success, made us smile. It also made Erik determined not to be the lone man out. And as we ventured out into the woods on the beautiful Sunday morning, I was hoping Erik would get another chance.
“The next day I hunted in the same stand," he said. “My dad said the deer would come from where they were eating the night before and go to their bedding area. It was the way I was facing, too. Then about an hour after we got in the stand, I saw a deer about 25 to 30 yards away. I didn’t think I would miss, so I looked into my scope and aimed right behind the shoulder. Bam! I shot. The deer ran away. My Dad said I hit the deer. He also said it would be dead when we found it.
“Then I wondered if it was a buck or a doe. I never looked at its head when I aimed through the scope. As we followed the blood trail, my Dad told me it was a buck. I was really excited then. Then we found the deer. I was so excited to get my first deer. I was also happy to make up for the night before when I couldn’t get the deer in the scope.”
Michael Landsverk Shoots His First Buck Over Winter-Greens!
By Rocky Landsverk (his father)
My son, Michael, hunts hard. He turkey hunted for about 10 days through two years before shooting his first bird. He has hunted with me in my deer bow stands for many years, so he's put in plenty of time in the deer woods, too.
So when it came time for Mike, 14, to get a chance to shoot a gun at a deer, I didn't want yet another lesson capped by “That’s why they call it hunting and not killing.” His friends have shot deer. We own very good deer hunting land, and the elders have shot many deer. I wanted him to shoot something, not learn any more hard lessons about fairness.
That’s why I wanted to hunt over the 6-acre food plot.
I had choices. We lease 60 acres and own 40, and in another county, we’re part of a large lease of family hunting land. But I wanted to be where I knew we’d see deer and at the very least get a shot at a doe. And come 5 p.m. or so, with a 6-acre plot with Imperial Whitetail Clover, Winter-Greens and Tall Tine Tubers planted, you know where you will see deer.
During Mike’s first afternoon with a gun, it was off to a tent alongside our food plot. I knew the deer would come down the opposite hill, pause for moment, do their safety check and head right to the middle, where the Winter-Greens was their recent favorite.
But I had the time wrong. It wasn’t until 10 minutes before closing time (remember this is gun, not bow; ask me sometime what bow closing time is) before we saw a deer. And it had antlers. From 100 yards through the Nikons, it looked like a smaller 2-year-old 8-pointer. And it was a perfect first buck.
Mike had the 20-gauge sighted in with a shot-gun scope with plenty of eye relief, and the sabots were locked and loaded. The buck wandered to 70 yards, a little farther than we had sighted, but these children and their video games — I knew he could make that shot.
Problem was, he couldn’t shoot. The deer was in the scope, but Mike was too nervous to pull the trigger.
Even with the gun on a tripod-mounted rest and the deer standing still, Mike was shaking too much to keep the scope centered. “Take it down... breathe... relax,” I said. Back up again, and all is good. Nope, too nervous again. “Relax, it’s only a deer,” I said. “It’s not the end of the world. This is fun.”
All good, back up again.
“Pretend it’s a video game. Right on the chest, squeeze slow and follow through, you don't have to ... ”
Bam.
We went into safety mode, checking the safety, kicking out the shell, remembering the muzzle. Now it was time to look for the deer. I couldn’t see it from my spot in the tent at the time of the shot. “I missed him!” Mike said. Looking out, there was nothing. “Then where is he?” I asked. “I don't know, but I think I missed,” he said. “Michael if you missed, he'd be running, and there's nothing running,” I replied.
Well, not at that moment. About 30 seconds later, the large (for 1-1/2 years old) 7-pointer got up. And fell. Then he got up again and repeated that pattern all the way back to us, to our woods, just to our right. And by then, it was about two minutes after close. The deer was lying 30 yards from us, alive but probably not for long, and it was past closing time.
Lesson time.
“Michael we have to get away from this deer,” I said. “He will lie there and die, but we have to get away from him.” We crawled away until we were at a distance and then returned to the truck. Ninety minutes later, tracking didn’t take long, thanks to our friend Aaron’s tracking skills (more lessons for Mike) and Aaron’s multitude of flashlights. Mike saw the deer first, a little cherry on top.
“I got him I got him!”
True elation. He had earned it. The practice, reading, safety classes and time spent had paid off. After a brief reminder that he is still 14 (“There’s a porcupine, can I shoot it?” at 9:30 a.m.), it was back to more learning moments, including making Michael pay attention as I gutted his deer.
The final lesson that night came courtesy of Aaron. “Michael,” he said, “congratulations on your first buck. The second one, you gut yourself.”
Nicholas Landsverk Bags First Two Deer
By Nicholas Landsverk
Beep, beep, beep! I woke up to the sound of the alarm clock. It was an unusually hot October morning. It was also the first day of the youth hunt. I was sweating from the heat. I slipped on my sweat pants and boots first, my hunting jacket and orange vest next.
I was too excited to eat one of the pumpkin donuts on the table. Taking a sip of Mountain Dew, I looked at my cousin, Tori, and said, “Hope I get one!” She assured me I’d get one, and I decided to get my dad going. It was pitch dark at 6 a.m. Thankfully, the stand was about 70 yards from the cabin.
We all got ready and headed out into the black blanket of darkness. After arriving at the stand, I sat listening to the hooting of an owl. Suddenly, the sound of a mouse came from inside the stand. The stand was 15 feet in the air, with a door, roof and several windows. The mouse scurried within inches of my ear, yet it was too dark to see it.
As light peeked above the trees, the scurrying happened again. I looked over, and the mouse was climbing down the wall. My dad, who hates mice, was yelling, “Kill it!” It escaped under the door. I looked out the window wondering where it went, and four mice were watching from the crack in the door. I told my dad they were trying to get in. They would poke their noses in, and my dad would kick the door. As I was laughing at my dad, I looked out the window and saw a little doe. I asked my dad if I should shoot it. He said it was up to me. It kept walking behind trees, so I didn’t have very good shots. It eventually walked out of range.
Twenty minutes later, a bigger deer came in. It was within 50 yards and walking broadside into a clearing. It looked like it had small horns, but I didn’t care. I brought up my Remington 870 20-gauge, looking down my iron sights. Then it was in the clearing. Boom! I missed. Boom! It ran into some brush. I didn’t know if I hit it or not. I sat, hoping that I hit it, when another deer came in. I didn’t want to shoot at it, worrying that it had horns, too.
I loaded some more shells into my gun. My deer came out of the brush. Boom! Boom! Boom! Miss, miss, miss. It went behind a tree and came out again. Boom! Miss. I realized that I was shooting high. I had just sighted my gun in, so this left me wondering. I aimed lower and squeezed the trigger. Boom! It turned and I could see the blood pouring out of its side. I also saw its fork-structure horns. It walked five yards and dropped. My first deer! I was in such bliss. I was speechless. My dad got my uncle on the radio and told him the news.
Suddenly, the same deer that I was scared to shoot came in again. A closer look told me that it didn’t have horns. I had three shells left. I shot high again. The deer ran 20 yards and came back. I aimed lower and squeezed. It dropped in its tracks. We got down from the stand. We tagged and gutted the deer. I looked at them feeling proud. I only waited 30 minutes and nine shots to get these deer. This will be an experience that I will never forget.
