By Colton Fuller
I'm 14 and got my first archery buck in Utah's Central region, three days before the archery hunt ended. We had skipped the morning hunt because we hadn't done well any other morning and decided to hunt more refreshed in the afternoon.
When we got there, the first thing we spotted were a few spikes and a few 2-pointers. It started getting dark when we saw antlers in a field, so my cousin C.J. and I decided to stalk him. We walked to the middle of the field when the deer popped up. From where we were, it looked like a 3-pointer that was pretty wide with deep forks.
Colton Fuller and his first archery buck.
As soon as I went to draw back, the deer took off. I flung an arrow at him but missed. Next we hopped on our 4-wheelers and tried to find him and my arrow, but he got away.
On day two we unloaded our 4-wheelers a little later than we hoped for, but we hurried and got out as fast as we could. When we got there, we didn't see deer for a while. A little while later, we found a small 2-point buck. Little did we know there were three more bucks with him.
My Uncle Casey ran over to us and told us there were four deer over the hill and said, "I will kick them up for you."
My mom and I walked around a hill and saw one buck hop a fence, and then I spotted the rest of them following. The first three were little bucks, but out of nowhere I saw a buck with a big rack just standing there. I drew back, and I flung my arrow.
The buck jumped over the fence and ran off with the others. All I could do was watch a once in a lifetime buck run off into the field. About a half hour later, we saw some deer by a little grove of trees. My cousin and I decided to burn over there. Right as we turned the corner we saw five deer standing there. They all were 2 pointers or better, but one of them stood out from all the others. It was the same big rack buck I saw a half hour earlier.
The deer bolted to the west. My cousin and I took a lower road to try to get in front of them, because we thought we knew where they would go. But they all parted and ran different directions. Then it just became too dark to shoot.
It was about 6 p.m. when we unloaded our 4-wheelers on day three. We started going through a field to catch up with the other hunters in our group. Out of the corner of my eye I saw a big rack pop out of the tall grass. I grabbed up my bow, nocked an arrow and pulled back. I only had one thought when I drew back my bow - do not miss this one. Earlier in the season I had my fair share of misses.
I held my breath and slowly squeezed the release. When I shot I heard the beautiful sound of the arrow striking home. That deer jumped 7 feet in the air, took off in a death run and went over the hill until my dad could no longer see him.
He yelled. Get on the 4-wheeler, let's go!
We went over the hill and saw my uncle and aunt going the opposite direction. We flagged them down and told them what had just happened. After the small hill, we went over to a road then to another hill. We didn't see a sign of blood, so we walked up the hill and rounded up the rest of our party.
When we were standing there I noticed something moving out of the corner of my eye. At first I thought it was someone walking through a bush, but no one was walking out. Then I thought, I just shot a deer! That has got to be him kicking. So I looked at my dad and told him that is my deer! We bolted over there. Sure enough, he was dead.
It was the same buck I had missed and pursued the night before, and the same one my dad's friend had video of a few days before. My dad predicted my buck will make the record books.