Finally... Sounds funny, but I FINALLY found my first wheatie!

Skippy SH13

Bronze Member
Feb 18, 2015
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Primary Interest:
Metal Detecting
1940S. Found it in an old house lot (the house was torn down last year). It was the ONLY thing of value I found.. Pulled about 5 pounds of trash out of the lot. Found it at the base of the old tree that was in the front of her yard. The house was torn down after she died last year, and its just across our street to the neighborhood.

We checked my son's penny collection (blue books), and found he'd already had a 1940S. Was disappointing, but we tossed it in the "Variation" slot, just because it's cool to remember!

I've pulled $42+ in clad this year (got the detector in January), found 11 rings (3 gold!), and hadn't found a wheat penny, yet.

I still laugh at myself at how excited I get when I find a penny. It's SO silly, but I can't help it!

Does the following happen to you? I tell people about my incredible find (wheatie) and they get all excited, too. They then ask what it's worth and I tell them about 3 cents. Then they just look at me funny. On the flip side, one of the guys I told STAYED excited, and even asked to borrow my second detector when I go out next time (Please take me with you!) I think that's the kind of guy I'd like to share stories of finds with. LOL!

Not found any silver coins, yet... but that'll come, too, I suspect!

Skippy
 

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I don't think it is silly at all. Being as I have only been detecting 2 years it took me forever to find a wheatie and I have still yet to find mercury dime, Indian head penny, V nickel and I could go on and on. Maybe some take for granted finding these coins but for newbies it is a BIG deal. Good for you.
 

I think it is like deer hunting, if you don't get excited it's time to quite. Lol
 

Congrats, just wait till you catch the silver bug!!!:thumbsup:
 

In my case it is bassackwards.Found many wheat's but never a gold ring.congrats on your first.-HH-
 

Good for you Skippy, may you find many more :thumbsup:



PS: Its not funny, heck every target I dig I get jittery over, even when it turns out to be trash, its the thrill of the chase.

PSS: Thank you for removing all that trash, a lessor man would have left it.
 

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Awesome man! I have buddy who found a 42 merc in 1 year of hunting, he still has not found a single wheaty! I love finding wheats any time. They help you date an area & give you that extra hope & motivation to keep digging at a site. My oldest is a 1912.
 

I have yet to find a wheat, but I got an 1882 indian. You just never know
 

Congrats , I'm addicted to detecting now
 

I don't think it is silly at all. Being as I have only been detecting 2 years it took me forever to find a wheatie and I have still yet to find mercury dime, Indian head penny, V nickel and I could go on and on. Maybe some take for granted finding these coins but for newbies it is a BIG deal. Good for you.

Thanks for the encouragement. I was unsure if the first comment would be positive or laughing at me!
 

I think it is like deer hunting, if you don't get excited it's time to quite. Lol

Yeah, I still have a hard time breathing when I'm hunting and something LOOKS like a deer. Funniest story of my hunting life was watching my brother this last year... If you care to read it, below is the e-mail I sent out afterwards:
For those who have problems with hunting, my apologies... here in the USA, it's not only cultural, some of us hunt for a portion of our food for the year. You also are NOT required to read this... please don't blast out hate mail!

Hey family,

Thought I'd pass along the story of this year's hunt. This is, of course, as I saw it.

Daniel's version probably includes rainbows, unicorns, and a Dementor which he dispelled with Patronus Charm in the form of a Bull Elk.

Dad's version probably includes a visit to a professional counselor, and possibly has references to mountain women.
Cheers,

Skippy

On day 1, we headed up above <name redacted> to a mountain called <name redacted>. It has a ~2 mile trail... this is the one we've seen the big bucks on and last year my son's helped that guy drag out his deer. We knew big bucks were in the area, but we also saw MUCH more bear and wolf sign this year. A few big bucks appeared to still be walking around (by track size), but there wasn't any doe track out. We knew roughly where the bucks liked to hang out, so we scoped the hillside a LOT as we approached (a step or two every 20-30 seconds through the area). We had just passed the area we expected to see the bucks, and I had just slung my rifle.

As we slowly walked around the bend, I heard my dad say "Deer" and I looked left. In my BLIND SIDE, the buck had been standing there. Blasted blind-eye. I completely missed that he'd been watching us. Largest Mule deer I've ever encountered hunting. Easily topped 300 lbs (and probably getting closer to 350 the more I think about it), and had a massive 4 point rack (which for typical Mulies, 4 on each side is the max they just get longer, broader, and thicker). I managed to pull the rifle to my shoulder just in time to put the animal in the scope cross-hairs, as it passed. The sight picture was immediately lost in the trees while tracking though.

I could barely breath after that. My father's angle on the animal was such that he could have shot it anytime, but he couldn't see the rack. (He was probably looking for regular antlers coming out of its head, not small trees erupting from that magnificent animal’s noggin!).

A great start to the week long hunt.

Throughout the rest of the day, we hunted multiple areas in the same region, and saw more bear and wolf track.

At 4pm, we split (my injured feet kept me from walking more than about 4-6 miles a day). I drove the road, while Daniel and Dad took a lower trail. We agreed to meet back at 6pm. At 5pm, I looked downhill and saw two deer standing looking at me, one of the had it head literally in a tree limb, and I couldn't make out whether or not it had antlers. Every time I thought I saw anters, I'd start breathing hard, and it would shake my view. Limbs, antlers, limbs? Eventually, the deer walked off with me wondering if it was two doe or a doe and a buck. I'm convincing myself it was a doe, because it makes me feel better.

When I got back to retrieve Daniel and Dad, they had a Forest Grouse in hand. Grouse are legal to take "with any lethal means." They're pretty stupid birds, but excellent table fare. Dad and Daniel didn't want to scare off the animals, so they decided to simply kill it with a rock. Took Daniel two throws, and he beaned it in the head. Hilarious. On a side note, I went back to the area the next day with a buddy, and I've got footage of him taking a grouse with a .223. Seven shots were taken before he hit it (15-20 feet away, weapon not sighted in well!). The video shows the bird just hanging out the whole time, even strutting for us to show us it's lovely plumage. Even when the bullet hits right beside it, it didn't care. We always take the grouse home for the boys, and it helps them look forward to my return. Very tasty!

The next two days were marked with only sighting does. Thirty-seven of them to be exact. No bucks to be found, but plenty of game. On Wednesday night, we pulled up camp and headed over to <Name obscured> Lake for Daniel's Elk hunt. We arrived just after midnight, and all the campsites that were supposed to be open, were closed.

We parked the trailer a public boat launch and bathroom parking lot, and slept for 5 hours.

Thursday morning we got up to be out on the road for first light shooting. Daniel's elk tag is only for the west side of the road, between the road and the lake (most places are no more than 600 yards between road and lake). The elk come down in the morning/evening for drinks and you can bag them. It's a short-range ONLY hunt. Pistols and Shotguns (archery too, if you're inclined, I suppose).

Less than 2 minutes down the road, seven elk cross the road within 100 yards. I'm telling Daniel to get out and shoot one, and he literally just SITS THERE. No grabbing of gun or anything!

I repeat, "Daniel, get out and shoot an Elk!" HE SITS THERE SOME MORE... I'm too busy watching the elk to really think about the epic failure of sitting in the chair while the game is watching you sit in your chair.

At this point Dad says, "are you sure you can shoot here?"

I thought for a moment, and realized I was until he asked me that! I said, "Yeah, I"m pretty sure!"

Daniel responds, "Well, if we're not 100% then I'm not going to shoot." He stays seated in the truck. I just watch the elk walk into the trees and drive on.
We drive down the road for about 10 minutes... I'm still in utter disbelief, and frustrated at the situation, when an idea comes to me.

"Hey, wait a minute! We've got cell coverage, I'll look up the boundaries!" After a quick check with Fish and Game's website, it's confirmed, we're cleared to hunt those elk.

I turn the truck around and drive fairly fast back to the area, figuring the elk are still between the road and lake. We get there about 5 minutes later and hop out. Daniel takes the lead with the shotgun, and Dad and I are walking behind him. He's walking pretty fast, and I keep saying "SLOW DOWN!" (quietly, of course). He reminds me of Jacob on his first hunt, where I constantly was grabbing his jacket telling him to slow down and look around!
I then pull out my elk call, and push it a few times (it's a Hoochie Momma hand call). It makes a cow elk "mew" sound. Immediately, there's a half dozen calls back from the clearing next to us. THE ELK ARE STILL THERE! I play on the call for a bit as Daniel and Dad turn around and grin toothy smiles.
As we approach the clearing, Daniel starts to walk into the clearing at full speed. I stop him saying, "Daniel, DON'T walk out there, walk along the edge slowly and look for them." So he moves to the edge and walks along. He's only looking forward though, and still walking WAY too fast. By the time I see the elk, far to our right, they've completely spotted Daniel, and are very nervous. Daniel is still walking forward, oblivious to the elk.
I stop him with a quiet notification, "Daniel, they're on your right!"

He stops and lifts the shotgun, and takes aim... and takes aim... and...well.. does nothing.

I tell him, "Shoot one!"
He says, "OK" and takes aim, and takes aim... and ... nothing.
I say, "what are you waiting for?"
He says, "They seem a little far away."
"Then aim a little higher!" I exclaim!
He takes aim, and the animals start to walk off... Daniel tracks them... and they walk off through the trees.

I turn and look at Dad, and raise my eyebrows to say "what in the WORLD just happened."
Dad shrugs his shoulders, and we share that moment... you know the one...
"Your little brother's an idiot," Dad's eyes say...

My eyes respond, "I'm not sure I can call him my brother..."

Dad, of course, nods in understanding.

We know the elk headed back across the road, where they're un-shootable, so we head back to the truck.

While Daniel get in, and sits in the passenger seat front, Dad and I have a quick grunting exchange that suggests we need to get to the bottom of what happened.

We spend the next 5 minutes riding in silence, allowing the full impact of what happened to settle on Daniel. Then I just start belly laughing. I can't hold it back. Dad and Daniel join in, and the ice is broken. We ask him what happens, and we get to an understanding that 1) Daniel's brain was completely shut down... aka "Buck Fever." 2) Daniel REALLY didn't want to shoot and injure the animal, and 3) Each time we asked him or told him something while he was aiming, he restarted the process of making sure everything was in order.

We have no problem with him wanting a clean kill. A clean kill is pretty important. First time hunting big game isn't easy to pull that trigger... I think most of us have either experienced that, or have watched others who have. We're not excusing it though, and vow to make him re-live it over and over for the next year, so it doesn't happen again. There's no such thing as a clean or not clean anything, if you don't pull the trigger. While we don't expressly say that, we're pretty sure he gets the point that one of the primary purposes of carrying a gun while hunting is to use the ammunition in the magazine.

Dad and I offer some pointers... and offer some pointers... and laugh at him, and repeat the pointers. And... we laugh some more. Daniel sits in silence mostly. I can't tell if he's brooding, or what. After some more 'pointers,' he finally raises his arms and yells... "OK!!! I GET IT!!!" and laughs!
Dad and I happily inform him, "oh, no... you'll be getting it for the next 12 months!" HA!
The rest of the day we don't spot anything, though we drive through a much larger area. Mostly, we're exploring trails we've not been on before, and ended up in areas where they were buck only. No animals spotted.
The next morning:
We head out with the same plan, hoping to see the animals again. We pass by the area, with no luck. We drive the 5 miles or so through the area looking for animals that have crossed before turning back. It's about 25 minutes after we first passed the area we saw the animals the day before... and BINGO!

On the return trip, as we approach the area, we see elk standing on the road. They're staring at us and threatening to turn back. I back the truck up until they cross over. Now we're all REALLY excited. Daniel is definitely going to bag an elk today!
As we drive up to where the elk are, we'd worked out a plan to have Daniel open the door (leaving it open) and simply walk into the trees, through the trees and take an elk on the other side. We have Daniel get out of the truck while we drive forward to keep the elk's eyes on us. The elk watch the vehicle very intently. I have video of us driving, expecting Daniel to shoot. A full TWO MINUTES PASSES with us driving back and forth. Dad and I are fairly agitated by the end of it.

"Why hasn't he shot, yet!"
"I don't know. Why hasn't he?"

"What is he WAITING FOR?!"

"I can't believe he's not shooting!"
"Where the heck did he go?!"

We finally back the truck up to where we dropped him off and we see he hasn't even made it half way through the twenty feet of trees yet. The elk are now moving through the clearing.

Still in the truck, Dad and I start chuckling and Dad says, "He's still halfway in the trees! What is he thinking!!!"

At this point, I simply say, "he probably isn't." Again...
Daniel walks back to the truck saying, "They're not in the clearing anymore."
DUH. Dad and I share that eyebrow raised look again.
We asked him why he didn't walk through the trees and shoot, and he told us, in a very blaming voice, "Yesterday, you said if I come to a clearing I should walk slowly and look around every step!" Yeah, he blamed US.

We just laughed and told him, "We figured you knew that when we said 'walk through the trees and shoot one,' that you would do that, because you knew where they were!"
Apparently, that's what stuck in his brain... He wasn't about to walk through the trees, because he'd missed seeing one yesterday, even though he knew exactly where the elk were today. Too funny. Also quite clear that Daniel has buck fever BAD.

The hunt is not over, yet, though. We know the elk are between the road and the lake, and that if they want to get back to where they came from, they'll have to cross the road here. Since they weren't shot at, it stands to reason if they're pushed from the sides, they'll come out the way they came in. We predict to get back across the road, they'll cross in the most likely spot, and Daniel is standing on that spot. Dad and I know if we walk around the edges and make noise, they'll come right back to Daniel. We all confer on these points and come to alignment.

We walk Daniel over to the only point of cover... a lone pine tree that has 50 yards of clearing in front of it. We tell him "SIT THERE... The elk will come RIGHT TO YOU." Dad and I wait for Daniel to take position, and then move off to the sides to drive the Elk toward him.
I walk on the left and Dad walks on the right. We're making some good noise. I've got no weapon.. .Dad's got his pistol. I'm singing songs, banging my flashlight against a stick and generally raising a ruckus.
I come across three elk trying to work away from Dad. The elk look right at me and walk to where Daniel is sitting. The elk are 30 yards from me, if that. Oh, I'm wishing I had the tag this year! I get on the radio and tell him, "three coming your way!" just as I hear Dad yell out something...
About 15 seconds later, I hear BOOM.
But wait... that's not from where Daniel is sitting... I'm thinking "Did Dad just shoot Daniel's elk with the pistol?" Oh man... that's not good... I wait for an exclamation of joy. It's just silence. I think even breeze has stopped to hold its breath.

A good 45 seconds passes, and then I hear another BOOM! Shortly, a third BOOM! follows.
Now, I'm thinking, "any second, I'll hear 'yeah! I got an elk!'"

Nothing...

Silence...

I now have a sinking feeling in my stomach that something went very wrong.

I get on the radio and ask Daniel if he shot one. I get static back. He's pushing the button but not talking, or he's talking into the back of the talkie.
Again, I ask... more static.
The third time, he responds in a huffing voice. "I've been running after them, I shot a few times, but I don't think I got one."
I just shake my head and look at my boots. OH MY GOSH! Running after them? What happened to "SIT THERE?"
Just about the time I want to throw my hands in the air and give up, I look to the left and watch all the elk running down the narrow strip next to the road, they're clearly looking to cross. Daniel is nowhere to be seen. And there go the elk...
I walk back to the clearing and Daniel is looking around in the trees. I ask him what he's looking for, and he tells me, "in case I hit one."

I ask him, "where did you shoot it from?"
"Well, I saw them in the trees and I ran toward them because they were looking at Dad. Then they turned around and I stopped and shot at them,' he responds timidly.
I blurted out, "IN THE TREES?"
"Yeah."
I note that exasperation has hit my voice, and try to tone it down just a notch.

"Uh, why weren't you sitting down under the tree like you were supposed to! They would have come right to you!" I start laughing.

Daniel shrugs his shoulders, looks down, and barely squeaks out... "I got excited."

HILARIOUS. Daniel clearly loses his brain at the site of animals!
He goes onto explain, that he heard both Dad and I, and saw the animals in the trees. He further offers up that he has no fundamental explanation of why he got up, but he did when he saw the animals weren't looking. After thinking some more, he said he wanted to make sure he didn't miss.

He further painted a picture of the situation with, "about halfway to the trees, the elk turned and looked at me, and I thought, 'oh, I screwed up.' By then it was too late, so I dropped to one knee and shot."

I ask him to show me where the animals were. He waves generally, and says "over there." Clearly he's feeling the burden of failure. Not wanting to make things worse, I get all positive and suggest that if we can't find a bullet hole, he probably hit the elk!

In my mind, though, I'm thinking, "how long do I have to pretend to look, to make this convincing?"
We briefly look at the trees and seeing nothing, start off in the direction he "thinks" the animals ran. They apparently ran into grass as tall as my chin. Fantastic. Not really.

The more we look though, the more Daniel is sure the elk was in his sights when he pulled the trigger. Okay, then! Let's find that elk!

We form a grid, and look around for 20 minutes in the tall grass for a dead elk. It gives us all a chance to calm down, and get the adrenaline out of our systems. Our efforts produce nothing but sore legs as we high step through the mounds of dirt and grass.

I take him back to the clearing with an idea.
"Show me EXACTLY where you were standing," I ask.

He moves to the field location from which he believes he took the shot.
"Now, tell me EXACTLY where the elk was when you shot."

He moves me a few times to the right, then once to the left, and declares, "Right there!"
This is definitely in a slightly different area than I first looked. I turn around with my back to him, and start walking out backwards About four backward steps, I see down to the left, a hole in the tree. He'd SHOT the TREE. And it was down and to the left. If the elk was standing there, he'd have shot under it, or nicked a leg at the most. If it was facing left, he'd have missed it completely, even if the tree wasn't blocking the way. This is good news and bad. The good news is we can stop looking for a dead elk, we found the wounded tree (I'm confident it'll live, btw), bad news is that he isn't likely to have hit anything with his other shots if they're the same.

Based on where he said he was aiming, he "pulled" on the trigger rather than squeezing, and dropped down and to the left! My confidence that he likely hit anything with the other two shots is now next to nothing...

We look around for a bit more, but eventually give up. Clearly, practicing with the shotgun at targets doesn't work.

Target = NO PROBLEM!
Actual Hunting = BIG PROBLEM!

I console him by reminding him our older brother was confident he could hit something at 500 yards, "pretty much every time." But, when the rifle was aiming at the elk, it was a VERY different experience. I also told him don't bother taking advice from our older brother, he only got lucky. That seemed to make him feel better. It's always good form to throw one brother under the bus to console another. I'm sure Daniel appreciated the fact that he wasn't the only one with "stories," I personally appreciate the fact I've got two brothers that have provided an excellent array of campfire tales for years to come.

Not one to look down on an event like that, Dad and I take the opportunity at any lull moment to express how relieved we are that Daniel had a chance to redeem himself (us too, for not knowing the area, initially). We were MORE than happy to point out that WE personally did everything by the book, and how funny it was that Daniel "got excited." We even go so far as to promise to bring ropes next year to tie him to the tree, offer to tell him when he can pull the trigger, and even offer to hit one with the truck so he can tag it. We're awesome like that.

Like a champ, he takes it. We note repeatedly, too, that the best stories in life aren't the ones where you came into the area and in 2 minutes had an elk on the ground. That's not exciting at all. We will take the story and enjoy it!

Besides, there's always tomorrow, right?
To finish off the day, we spend the afternoon watching movies in the camper, enjoying a nice lunch. In the late afternoon, we go back to the area where the elk will cross and build a grass blind just behind the first line of trees. There's one entry through the trees, and the ground clearly shows it's regularly used, and is a cross point for either location (elk can cross at two points). When the elk cross, we'll be sitting right there. One on each side of Daniel. The guy on the left will hold him down, and the guy on the right will help him pull the trigger
The evening is uneventful, but still a beautiful drive along the lake at sunset. No elk, but we definitely appreciate the fact we're together, making memories, and we'll appreciate that we'll treasure those more than a steak.
The next morning, we arrive a bit early and get into grassy position. Dad forgot to brush his teeth. I swear if we don't see elk, we'll probably see a bear coming to check what dead animal is laying in the grass. I silently pray Dad is a nose breather. It appears he is. Sometimes it's the little prayers that count.
About 10 minutes after the start of the hunt, a car starts driving up and down the road about every 5 minutes. It's the Snow Resort Security (owns the land across the road). Clearly, they're patrolling the area watching to make sure hunters DON'T cross the road. We get a bit nervous that they'll mess up the hunt.

About 30 minutes into the hunt, when we expect the animals to be walking across, we hear the car stop down the road. I'm convinced that they're watching the elk and are going to push them back across the road. They stay stopped for a while, then move onto their regular patrolling. An hour passes... no elk.
As we move out of the trees, I stop the Security guys, and ask them if they pushed the elk back at 6:45 that morning. The driver says, "I don't think it was quite that early." and the other guy says, "We only saw them just now way down the road." Two stories from two yahoos that clearly blew our chances at an elk that morning. Nice.
We three are frustrated that we missed our chance for an elk, and sit in silence on the way back to the camper, as it was time to pack up the gear and head home. As I engage the turn signal to pull into the campsite, somewhere from deep in my gut, where determination and irritation live, I blurt out to Dad and Daniel, "I'm NOT done yet... we're going to drive down this road for 15 minutes and if we don't see anything we'll turn back. We can handle 30 minutes."

I'm the driver, and I'm armed... neither of them disagrees.
About 10 minutes down the road, I look right and blink twice to ensure it's not rage staining my eyes... Two Whitetail bucks aren't just standing on the side of a road spur. Both are yearlings with tiny antlers with no forks, but they're BUCKS and they're LEGAL.
We stop the car and hop out. One of the bucks bolts instantly. The other just keeps chewing the stick hanging out of its mouth. The stick was about 2 feet long with a few buds of leaves on the end of it. It was actually a pretty comical chew... The stick would twirl, and his jaw would wiggle side to side. It was as though he were mouthing the end of a cigar in a cartoon. It was the kind of image that conjures up the idea that this buck was a "surfer buck" from California. It was acting completely oblivious to the rest of the world, and just doing its own thing. The buck CLEARLY was not bothered by us stopping to look.

We hop out of the car and position ourselves to make a clean shot legally. Daniel positioned himself on the dirt, and took aim. Dad took aim with his pistol as backup. They were probably 20-25 feet from the animal. I'm thinking... "They CAN'T miss this one, right?"
We wait for Daniel to shoot... And wait... And wait. I'm thinking "Good grief." The buck even has time to drop his stick, look down for it, pick it back up and resume chewing while watching us.
Finally, Daniel shoots! BOOM! I watch the buck's muscles ripple as it bolts into the woods. I'm thinking "EXCELLENT!" Just as Daniel yells...
"OH MAN!"
Great. Just frigging great. I ask him, "What happened, did you miss?"
He replies, "Not sure, it didn't go down like I thought it would. I guess I did." He also adds that he thought Dad was going to shoot the buck for sure, after he took so long. He was quick to point out, too, that the reason he failed to shoot quickly was because he forgot the safety was on. Glad we got that out of the way this trip, too. Next year, he should be perfect, right?

Dad and I just look at each other and start toward the woods. 25 feet. How in the world do you miss at 25 feet! Dad yells that he saw it take off to the left, so we start stomping through to the left...
And see nothing. We meet at the other end of the clearing and start walking back. Daniel is stuttering something, and Dad says he was "Positive it went that way."
I'm just shaking my head in disbelief looking at my feet walking along. I almost STEP on the buck laying on the ground. I literally have to stop walking or the next step would have been on its neck. Dad and Daniel stopped walking when I did, but are talking to each other. I just wait for them to notice. I'm also VERY grateful it was a clean shot (the animal went down quickly). It's hard enough big game hunting on the nerves, and we DO respect the animals.

They don't. They just keep talking about how Daniel must have pulled the trigger again or something. I finally can't hold it back any longer, and hold my finger up. They look at it, and then I point to the ground. Following the direction, their eyes alight on the animal. Daniel just about freaks with delight. "I KNEW I COULDN'T HAVE MISSED!"

Yeah, right, bro. Because we all believe that. I'm just happy he didn't!
Dad and Daniel are clapping hands, cheering, and appreciating the clean shot. They quickly start pulling out gear. I'm thinking to myself, "Dang, I'm glad I didn't shoot that thing." Those antlers look like it bumped a bush and some of it got stuck on him. I take a picture of it and immediately send it to my wife.

The wife replies back before we start cleaning the buck with the all-to-telling reply, "Congrats, is that a midget deer?"

Dad and I laugh, but Daniel doesn't care. He CONNECTED.

It takes only a few minutes to process it. It was a great shot, right where it was supposed to be. It was quick and clean. Daniel, apparently, didn't realize that animals will still run a few yards, even with a vitals hit due to shock. Now, he knows to watch where the deer actually went after you shoot.
Dad and I made him drag it out and even chose a path where he had to drag it over some logs. No need to make it TOO easy on him. It was all of 90 seconds back to the truck.

We arranged the deer in the truck, VERY grateful Daniel ended his first year with awesome stories and some meat in the fridge. To note, this is the primary meat for my brother and his wife for the year. They're not wealthy by any means, and this helps a LOT ($12 for 50-60lbs of amazingly good organic meat, can't be beat!).

One thing was for sure... there ain't NO WAY either Dad or me would shoot one of those tiny bucks. We'd rather say we chose not to, than have to own up to that! Sometimes it's better to be a conservationist.

We applauded Daniel for his choice though, knowing two things... 1) we'll get some very fine jerky, and 2) telling him... "One thing is for sure... Any future buck, can only be an improvement!"
 

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Good for you Skippy, may you find many more :thumbsup:



PS: Its not funny, heck every target I dig I get jittery over, even when it turns out to be trash, its the thrill of the chase.

PSS: Thank you for removing all that trash, a lessor man would have left it.

Oh, Trash is my THING... I find so much of it, I have to take out the garbage can in the garage about once a week extra! I only take pictures of the good stuff, but one of these days, I'm going to collect it all. The problem is that I usually have to dump my trash once or twice at the parks just to keep the bag from overfilling.

Part of the draw to this hobby for me is knowing I'm making things BETTER by metal detecting. It's a feel good moment, every time I pull some sharp can-slaw out of the grass and prevent some kid from cutting their feet!
 

Awesome man! I have buddy who found a 42 merc in 1 year of hunting, he still has not found a single wheaty! I love finding wheats any time. They help you date an area & give you that extra hope & motivation to keep digging at a site. My oldest is a 1912.

Wow! 42 Mercs. That's amazing!
 

Oh, I'm pretty sure "hooked for life" occurred the first ring I pulled out on my first "official" hunt (outside of my own yard and neighborhood). Couldn't believe my luck... I count the hours between hunts now.. :)
 

Congrats on the wheatie. I was extremely excited about finding my first wheatie. The thing that amazes me is that you got 3 gold rings...that is killer. Last year I found 331 Wheaties and only one gold ring. Congrats on the gold rings ... and the wheatie. GL&HH!
 

Congrats on the wheatie. I was extremely excited about finding my first wheatie. The thing that amazes me is that you got 3 gold rings...that is killer. Last year I found 331 Wheaties and only one gold ring. Congrats on the gold rings ... and the wheatie. GL&HH!

Thanks, I'm still floored by my luck on those rings, too. And I know it's just being in the right place at the right time, too!

I'll be surprised if I EVER find another... I'll be happy if I do! but I'm not counting on it!
 

Oh, Trash is my THING... I find so much of it, I have to take out the garbage can in the garage about once a week extra! I only take pictures of the good stuff, but one of these days, I'm going to collect it all. The problem is that I usually have to dump my trash once or twice at the parks just to keep the bag from overfilling.

Part of the draw to this hobby for me is knowing I'm making things BETTER by metal detecting. It's a feel good moment, every time I pull some sharp can-slaw out of the grass and prevent some kid from cutting their feet!

Exactly Skippy Exactly, ty sir.
 

Wow! 42 Mercs. That's amazing!

A 42 merc, (did I miss-type somehow?), meaning a single mercury dime. I have yet to find one myself, yet I have found an IH (date not visible) that was much older (obviously).
 

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