We stepped outside into a light drizzle as the first rays of sunlight began to illuminate the eastern horizon. After putting the dog in his pen, my dad and I went our separate ways to different ends of the property, him with his Mark V 300 Weatherby Magnum, I with my T/C Encore 300 Winchester Magnum on my shoulder and my Smith and Wesson Model 460 on my hip. About ten minutes later, I was in my blind overlooking my 1 acre clover plot from its southeastern corner.

Before I even had time to get comfortable, I saw movement not even fifty yards away. A doe was walking down the northern treeline. She approached to within revolver range and stopped. Although I had decided to take a doe, there wasn't nearly enough light to make a shot. She evidently wasn't afraid, because I heard her trudging around just out of sight on the neighbor's property for the next thirty minutes.

Just after shooting light, I heard the distinctive sound of a 300 Weatherby bullet finding it's mark about a third of a mile to the east, where my dad was. More on that later.

I soon saw the doe again, this time in the neighbor's field, and she eventually wound up in my plot over 100 yards away. As I put the Encore on the tripod, I realized how unsteady I was, especially considering I was shaking like a leaf. I quickly figured out to put my foot on one of the tripod's supports so I could rest my elbow on my knee. However, the doe wouldn't stay still for long, and due to the slight curve in the plot, her vitals remained somewhat obscured. She soon vanished beyond the trees, and I saw her run off to the north.

For the next 45 minutes or so, I saw nothing. Then, while glancing toward the far end of the plot, I saw antlers ducking down. Big ones. I quickly got into position and put the Encore on the tripod to look through the scope. Nothing. I put the Encore down and raised my binoculars. Nothing. The buck must have been walking away from me when he put his head down, and I only caught a glimpse. I blew two grunts with my grunt tube, but nothing responded. Kicking myself for letting him escape my attention, I glassed the rest of the plot to ensure nothing was sneaking up on me. There wasn't, needless to say, so I looked one more time down the plot.

There he was, his rack and massive neck giving him away as a mature buck. I quickly got into position again when he put his head down to sniff at the ground. The crosshairs flew all over the place as buck fever took hold. He was slowly coming my way. Even the sight of a broken brow tine didn't deter me. This buck was going down.

I paused for a second. If he continued walking like that, he'd be within revolver range. Should I take him now, or should I wait? I estimated there was about a 50/50 chance he would either get within revolver range or leave the plot. The question was quickly answered when he turned north, toward the neighbor's field. I cocked the hammer back and took aim, the crosshairs still flying wildly all over him. I used two more grunt calls in a vain attempt at stopping him. It was only when I yelled "Hey, buck!" that he paused, perfectly broadside.

It's funny. While practicing, I have to force myself to inhale, slowly exhale, squeeze the trigger, and follow through. Now, though, I can't even recall doing so, it came to me so naturally. The crosshairs steadied as I exhaled, and I slowly began squeezing the trigger.

BOOM! I lost sight of him as the gun recoiled, the muzzle blast rattling the fabric of the blind. By the time I caught sight of him again, the buck jumped up and ran - all of two yards. I was out of the blind as he collapsed, throwing the Encore on my shoulder while drawing the 460 from its holster. There was no need for a follow up shot.







I was calm during the entire walk up to him. I was calm while I marveled at the size of both his body and rack. I was calm while I ranged my blind while standing over him - 98 yards. I was calm while walking back to the blind.

Then, the realization of what I'd done hit me. I had finally accomplished something I've dreamed of doing since taking the hunter safety course back in '07. I realized I just took my first deer with a handgun. I fell to my knees, nearly dropping the Encore because I was shaking so badly. Just typing this made me relive the lightheaded feeling I felt right then.

I would like to once again express my thanks to pab1 for selling me that amazing barrel, and to Zee for recommending the A-Max bullets for it. I would also like to thank each and every one of you on this forum for making this the best place on the internet to discuss our passion. You daggum enablers.

Combine this deer with my squirrel kills, and I can now say that, without a single shadow of a doubt, I am a handgun hunter!






P.S. My dad got this buck at almost the exact same spot as my sister's monster 9-point two weeks ago. I finally convinced him to try my handloads for his Weatherby, and I think he's quite pleased with them.