I'll take this opportunity to introduce myself. I an British and live in England. I have about 24 rifles, six of which are single shot. I love singlies, there's just something about them.

Anyhow, as it's a hunting with single shot rifles, here's the tale of my first successful deer hunt. This was over a year ago now. But I hope it will amuse.

Well, a few Saturday’s ago was the occasion of my first successful deer shoot. And what a day it was. Firstly, so as you know the circumstances, I am 67 years of age, very overweight and unfit, and on some pretty pokey medication that puts a wall in front of physical performance. With that in mind I made contact with Robbie, a hunter I know in Scotland and arranged an accompanied stalk. It started well, a long 350 mile drive North and I arrived Friday evening. The scenery on the way up was stunning, even from the M6, the snowline easily visible on the hills on what turned out to be a lovely day. I had half expected the weather for Scotland in late November to be, well, inclement to say the least.   
Saturday morning, up at sparrow fart and off we set a round the 6,000 acre estate in the 4x4, after  first checking my rifle’s zero. Not a lot doing but we eventually spotted a few fallow deer lurking on a heather moor and off we set on foot.  Stalking is a very slow moving business. That land looked like easy walking. Ten yards and I discovered it was anything but! Tussock grass and bog is a swine and with my physique and health it immediately started to try and kill me. It was downhill and the group of fallow were behind a slight rise. In very short order I was walking like a drunkard and breathing like a man in the middle of an asthma attack. The ground was treacherous, firmly frozen in one step then grabbing a foot in a mud hole the next. I fell over a couple of times, to Robbie’s amusement, but I crossed a small stream OK, and we got to a good position for when the deer would come in to view. 
To save my embarrassment I will merely say I made a balls of it, they moved too fast, I was too knackered, and I missed a shot. The good news is that it was a complete miss so no wounded beast to find. I felt terrible but what’s done is done so it was back to the car. Sounds simple doesn’t it. Nope! I turned around and looked at the climb back to the car, this time uphill and over the same treacherous ground. Well, there was no other way out so it’s face the pain and take your time.

Part 3

Robbie gave encouragement, saying we had plenty of time, but something so simple was being very hard. Eventually, after some time, I had them targeted and was only breathing at a rate suggesting I needed an oxygen tent. A little more rest and I had relaxed enough to be able to take the shot with confidence. They were at a distance of 165 yards, close enough. I took the shot but the recoil moved me off target so I didn’t see it drop. What did surprise me was the solid ‘whoomph’ of the bullet’s impact. Robbie reported my target had dropped straight down. For the technically minded it was a .308 Sierra 150 grain spitzer in front of 42.5 grains of N140 from a Bergara break barrel and a Meopta 7x50 scope. 
By this time I was done for. Robbie said he would fetch it out, which was great because if I had gone with him he’s have ended up pulling me out instead (or burying me!). He went off and I lay there looking at the sky mainly, but also the superb scenery, and thinking there’s worse places to die. He returned in short order with a small young buck fallow. The shot had been a tad high, Robbie told me, but effective for all that. I also started thinking that I had to get back to the car. After a bit of a rest and a few piccies, we started back. As we progressed, Robbie had got used to me taking a tumble and was less worried. By the time we got to the car my legs had turned to rubber, I was back on the emphysema ward and absolutely wrecked. We loaded up and set off after a bit of a break. We looked around for another, perhaps easier, prospect with little result then a suitably decent sized young buck galloped along to our right then stopped. We stopped also, expecting him to flee, but no, he stood there posing like a good one. It was the nearest thing I’d seen to a deer suicide note and who am I to argue? The hope for the day’s outing was for two fallow and that’s what we got. 
It was a superb day out. The weather was cold but fresh, the wind light, the scenery simply incredible and the company great. Robbie is incredibly knowledgeable about deer stalking but was also able to communicate that knowledge well with a tyro like me. He took me to my limit, having correctly assessed what it was better than I had. Positive encouragement at all times without any of the bullying that some people mistake for such encouragement. A star man that I hope to hunt with again.

Awesome hunt glad you were able to do it. I am 67 also so can relate.

Read a number of stories by hunters from Norway and Sweden that went on hunts to Scotland. Few got two deer on 1st day and their hunts were not so exciting.

Thanks for a nice story!

Enjoyable reading!

JLouis

Thanks for a well told hunting tale! I enjoyed it also!

Thank you very much for the post. It was a great story.

Lee Gibbs (pres. ASSRA)

As one who is on multiple meds leg and breathing problems (71 years old) I commend you on your hunt and can relate to a couple of your happenings on your trip. Glad you scored. And loved the story. Frank