Handgun Hunting Afield

It’s 2024, deer season in South Carolina has returned for the eagerly waiting and excited hunters to take their fill of this year’s hunt. Among one of those eagerly waiting hunters, was I.

For reference, I have hunted my whole life. Ever since I was born, my father taught me the ways of the hunt and how to handle firearms. But I never took it seriously. At least till now.

This year was different, and with the arrival of the new hunting season, I was more than ready to beat my record of killing one deer a year. But I didn’t just want to beat my record; I wanted to commit! To re-learn all that I had forgotten, to increase my shooting accuracy, learn to dress and process the kill, and more. I wanted to re-embrace and commit to the art of hunting.

What’s with the sudden change of mindset all of a sudden? I don’t know either, but perhaps it’s due to the fact that adulthood has me in its crosshairs. But I all of a sudden see the deep hidden value of hunting. It’s a blessing and a privilege. Not everyone can hunt, especially those who live in places with tight hunting/gun restrictions. A blessing because of all the rewards we get from our kills. Like the meat we eat and the many uses we can get from our kills. Not to mention how much more fun it is when we share those benefits with others. It is overall a blessing and an honor. But moving on. 

So, on a warm and calm September afternoon, My Father and I packed up our bags and loaded up in the truck. I was bringing with me my EA Brown BF Ultimate Single shot Pistol, my green Cole-TAC bitty bag, my Bluetooth Walkers Earmuffs, and of course my current book. We soon embarked and headed out to our hunting grounds. This evening’s location is the same location we’ve hunted every other year. The woods behind Grandma’s house, with over 200 acres to hunt on and multiple stands scattered about. We took to the stands behind the big old pond near the powerline. So, upon arriving, we parked the truck over by the pond, went our separate ways, and headed to our stands. My stand was more into the woods than my father’s, whose stand stood right under the powerline. But as I walked towards my stand and got pelted by aggravating spiderwebs. I said a prayer, praying desperately for a decently sized doe to bring home so that we could finally have some meat. So, I climbed into my stand and set up my stuff. Ensuring everything was secure and ready and then I waited. It was about an hour or so later when I finally saw something, looking up from my book I watched as a majestically huge buck waltzed out of the forest and began grazing upon my corn pile. It was eating at the one that was about 40 yards away to the left of my stand. So, I quickly propped up my EA Brown BF Ultimate Single shot Pistol onto my adored bitty bag and took aim. I was shooting with a custom 357 Maximum load. Made with 140-grain Hornady Flex tip bullets and a charge of 20.5 grains of W/296 powder.

The load doesn’t work too well with some other guns, but it works great with my BF pistol. Regardless, I aimed behind the shoulder of the deer, taking a minute to calm my nerves from my excitement. For I had never seen nor shot such a large deer before and waited for just the right moment and pulled the trigger. The buck immediately went jumping into the air with its hind legs kicking. It headed straight towards the powerline when it fell about 30 yards away from where I had originally shot it.

So, after waiting a little while, I climbed down from the stand and tracked down its blood trail. Speaking of firsts, this is the first blood trail that I’ve successfully tracked without aid, on my own.

I found him on the ground, not too far away from the powerline. I had shot him a little high and in the back, but it did the trick. The bullet passed through, never to be recovered. But more importantly than that, I had just killed my very first 10-point buck on my very first hunt of the season. I couldn’t be more elated.

Eventually, me and my father reunited and dragged my kill onto the back of our pickup truck, taking it home to be dressed. It turned out that I was the only successful hunter that night, and I took pride in it with glee. Thus, marking the end of my very first hunt of the season and the start of my efforts of taking hunting seriously.