Jed and I went on our (semi)-annual hunting trip. Jed, the mega-shot, hit this deer about ten minutes after we left the truck. He spotted it, shot it, and then we headed towards it. We were prepared in case it took off, wounded, but then a HUGE guy took off towards the ridge. It was moving too fast for both of us, neither of us got a shot off. Jed was freeking out because he was sure that he'd hit the deer in his first shot. We decided to see if he'd hit it and we could track it and, low and behold, there was this guy sitting there. Jed had hit it in the head. I gutted it (or attempted to) and it took us the rest of the day to skin it and all other required things before we could take it to be processed into jerkey (Mmm. Mmm.) After all the work, we were both so tired and sore that we aren't ready to do any hunting again anytime soon. (We'll probably forget this all by next year though) The last deer we got was six years ago. We decided that every six years is enough!
(I originally posted this in the Schmidt family blog, but Jed wanted me to post it here as well. We have recieved our jerky - and tons of it! Jed said when he picked it up he got a BIG box as well as a grocery bag full of jerky. Everyone else that was picking theirs up at the same time had much smaller boxes. I kind of had to laugh about that!)
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