This story is probably about 15 years old or so, but sys reminded me of it. So I was living in Wyoming at the time and my step-dad(he died 4 years ago RIP) taught me how to hunt. Literally everything about it, guided me through hunters safety and all. When I was 10 they lowered the legal age to hunt "big game" from 14 to 12. So pretty much lucky me because I wanted to help the family survive and hunt big game.
Anyways it's the first day of hunting season for antelope, and I was super pumped. I had been on hunts for about the 6 previous years and now was finally my time to get the big kill. We got up up around 4:30 and already had our gear laid out, we got dressed and headed out the door by 4:50, heading up the mountain in Tim's(my step-dad) limited edition John Elway Ford Bronco.
It was about a 40ish minute drive up to where we were hunting in the mountains(basically a huge valley with super high mountains on either side(that's where we hunted Elk)). The sun still hadn't risen but as soon as it did, THERE THEY WERE. A buck and like 10 does, this dude was obviously a superbuck. I pumped one in the chamber(I have a .270 pump with a scope, not a puss .270 bolt action). They were about 300 yards away so we got out of the John Elway Bronco and snuck up on them. We got about 70-100 yards away and I found a nice rock to rest my scope on, I wasn't as huge as I am now so I needed to rest that heavy ass rifle on something.
I looked into the scope and aimed straight for the heart, silence fell on the valley, I pulled the trigger and a boom rang out unto the heavens. That superbuck dropped like Michael J Fox on ice. All the doe's scattered and we went and cleaned the superbuck, got him cleaned and loaded in the John Elway Bronco and were headed down the mountain and back home by 9:30AM on opening day, mom had biscuits and gravy waiting for us.