The Boy and the Mountain (standard:other, 781 words)
Author: Kenneth Nash	Added: Jan 30 2006	Views/Reads: 3377/0	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
A fourteen year old boy on his first deer hunt is lost in the mountains in Northwest Utah. How he survived the below freezing weather after getting his first deer.

THE BOY AND THE MOUNTAIN 

The sun was hidden by the tall pine trees on the mountain in Northern
Utah. I was lost! It was getting colder, and I knew darkness would soon 
make it more difficult to find my way off the mountain. How far had I 
come up the mountain from our camp below? How long would it take me to 
get back down, even, if I was going in the right direction? Would I die 
here or would dad find me? 

We had planned the trip for weeks. It was my first deer hunt. I couldn't
wait to see that big buck. I had all the excitement and anticipation a 
14 year old could experience. 

Dad, his friend, Jim and I loaded the truck with all the necessary
supplies for a few days of camping, hiking, and hunting. It was a cold, 
frosty morning in November when we arrived at the campsite. 

Each picked a mountain to hike up. I couldn't wait to get started. Dad
had taught me how to use a compass but, in my excitement, I forgot to 
take it with me. I would learn a valuable lesson from that. 

After about an hour of climbing I saw it! He was coming down the
mountain right in the direction I was standing. I was so nervous I 
almost couldn't get a bead on the biggest buck I had ever seen. What 
did dad tell me?  Move the rifle up slowly; get the deer in the sights. 
Breathe evenly. Hold your breath for the shot. With a deer that will 
probably be the last one you get if you miss. I could do this! Just as 
I squeezed the trigger, he bolted. I was sure I had missed the mark. 
Then I saw him go down.  I ran to where he was, and then realized he 
was too heavy for me to carry to camp by myself. And, not wanting to 
loose the deer's location, I started marking the trees with as many 
pieces of clothes that I could take off without freezing to death, and 
started back down the mountain to camp. 

I walked for along time, hoping that I would soon find the campsite.
After awhile I began to see the markings on the trees I had made 
earlier. I was going in a circle. I couldn't find my compass, and it 
was getting darker. I was lost on a mountain with a deer I couldn't 
carry. 

I remembered that dad had told me if I got lost or needed help to fire
three shots in the air. I fired three times and waited. No answer. I 
fired three more and heard three gunshots away off in the distance. Dad 
had heard them! It was over an hour before dad could get to the 
mountain I was hunting on. The sun was going down and the air was wet 
and cold. Finally, dad appeared in an opening in the trees. He had 
found me. 

My dad is not a big man, about 5'9” and slender build, but years of
farming, and     construction work had made him a strong man. He 
carried the deer down that dark, cold mountain. 

By the time we got the deer into camp the temperature had plummeted to
well below the freezing mark. 

Jim had returned to camp earlier, and built a fire. 

Where was our truck with the sleeping bags, and food? Jim explained that
he had let a friend use it to go to town to get a part for his truck 
that was broken down. 

We huddled around the little fire, and waited. After hours had passed we
were cold and hungry with no shelter, sleeping bags or food to eat. 

We decided we would try to get some sleep, but one of us would need to
stay awake and keep the fire burning. We took shifts. 

Sometime during the night I woke up feeling colder than I had ever been
in my life. Jim had gone to sleep and let the fire burn out. I was so 
cold that all I wanted to do was just go back to sleep. Dad knew that 
was a symptom of hypothermia that I was experiencing. He covered me 
with his coat, built another fire, and then hugged me in his arms to 
keep me as warm as possible. 

About dawn the next morning our truck and supplies were back in camp.
And, by noon that day Dad and Jim had each bagged their buck. We packed 
up the supplies and the game and headed back to sunny Southern 
California. 

That was my first and last deer hunting trip. 

The 


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