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On opening morning August 25, 2007, I got caught up in the moment and killed a small buck to share the experience of a harvest and train my step son Robert on after the shot protocol. We were still hunting up a finger toward a meadow that I had seen/bumped elk twice during the 05 season. I turned back to look at Robert, and he motioned to his ear and pointed downhill signifying that he heard something off to our left down the ravine. My hearing is poor, so I listen to him. He was tailing me about 10 yards at the time and we were just moving at a snails pace (two or three real slow steps and then stop/watch/wait, first I'd move SWW, then he'd move we had a rhythm, a slow rhythm). I snuck over and peered down the steep ravine and after a minute or two; I spied a deer butt at 60 yards. It disappeared behind a couple of trees and then reappeared long enough for me to glass antlers and determine it was a buck then disappeared again. I slowly motioned for Robert to come up from behind me real slow. Robert slowly and quietly worked his way over and stood next to me. I whispered that I saw a buck down there, and he could stand here and watch me make a stalk, but I had to wait for the deer to reappear, so I could watch his head, so I would know when to move and when not to move. We were after elk but I had the deer tag as well. After watching downhill for a few moments for the buck to reappear, Robert whispered there's a deer and it was a spike buck that had worked its way up while I was looking for the other one. For fun and practice, I ranged it at 38 yards and then he made his way to 28 then 20 then milled around a bit at about 25 then zig zagged back and forth in front of us for a couple of minutes coming our way up to 17 yards. There were two other spikes that appeared down below that I ranged at 40 and 45 and I am sure it was one of those that I saw first. We were just taking in the moment. I had no intention of killing a buck that small, and didn't even get an adrenaline rush, at all, but as things unfolded I whispered to Robert “pretty cool huh” Robert whispered back “really cool”, I decided to go ahead and give the young bow hunter an experience he would never forget, his first blood trail. So when the little buck fed behind a stump downhill at 17 yards, I drew my bow, the buck cleared the stumped, I let him take a couple of steps as I hesitated knowing my season would be over when I released, but squeezed the release any way, the sharp Ironhead 100 grain broadhead guided by an Easton Axis 400 grain arrow zipped through the lungs. The buck ran side hill for 40 yards and stopped on a little flat for about 2 seconds, then on wobbly legs took off again. We immediately heard: crack.....crack, crack, crack,......crash, and I knew he was done. I showed Robert how to mark from where you shoot immediately, and we waited 30 minutes. I explained the importance of waiting 30 minutes even on a good hit. We couldn't find my arrow, but we found it two days later farther down hill then I expected..zipped through like a rocket. Do to a lack of blood at or around the shot area, I had Robert establish which tracks were the bucks when he took off on the dash immediately following the hit, which went in the direction of where we saw him run and stop at 40 yards. There I was first to see a puddle of blood, but had Robert scan the ground and find the blood for him self, which he did, and then Robert did the tracking from there. It took him only a minute or so to establish which direction the buck ran by the fresh tracks, which he slowly and obviously nervously followed down hill for about 25 yards. I was off to the side of the trail scanning and could see the buck laying down the hill, so I told Robert that it isn't a bad idea to go ahead and scan the area while you are tracking the animal and that you don't have to look at the ground the whole time, so he scanned in front of him and immediately picked out the little buck piled up on the other side of a small downed tree about 15 yards away. I instructed Robert on field dressing the buck, I pulled the small nylon rope from my pack that I use to pull my bow up while in a tree stand or drag deer, wrapped it around the bucks neck and we drug him slowly and gingerly down the hill just under a half of a mile to the road closure that we had parked on. With the exception of an occasional fallen tree in our path, the steep ravine and abundant pine needles made the drag almost effortless, not to mention the deer was small. I retrieved my tripod from the spotting scope and mounted the camera for a few pics, loaded the buck and took him back to camp where Robert helped skin the buck. I was #15 at Russels in Canyon City at 2:00 p.m. on opening day. Bow hunting is primarily solo for deer, and this hunt was fun and gratifying to share with a young hunter, especially while observing the intensity on Robert’s face when he was tracking the buck. I really put the pressure on him and made him feel like it was his responsibility to find this deer, which he did real well, and it was definitely one of my funnest and most rewarding hunts ever. I never thought that I would ever shoot another small buck in my life, but emotions take over and life happens. This was a good emotion and I don't regret it a bit. Besides, Robert has a Willamette tag and a general bow tag, so I get to take him hunting and watch him harvest his animals this year as well, so my season is far from over. My nephew also has a Willy tag and I am his mentor as well. We didn’t get an elk; we got in to them a few times but came up short for now.