Memory of first buck is never forgotten
With my heart pumping so hard It was almost the only thing I could hear, I drew back and settled in on my pin. I had rattled lightly and he had come to investigate. This was finally the moment I had been waiting for. You see, it had only been a few months since I had purchased my bow from local pro Larry Wise and he taught me form and then I was off to the races, so to speak. Born of a generation that had no shortage of outdoor television, I’d only dreamed of the feeling that came along with a late October/early November rut, and tagging a trophy buck. He stepped from behind ...