The Parking Brake Buck

I was 13 years old, hunting B zone with my dad on private land west of Redding. It was October and we had spent the whole day driving around on the side by side looking for deer. We saw some does but no legal bucks, and with the day coming to an end we decided to check a spot we had already been to twice. It was an opening with a few big trees in the middle and thick brush all around, and you couldn't see into it until you drove up the hill and reached the crest. We rolled up slow, and as we came over the top there he was, a 3x3 buck standing in the opening. Plenty big for what was going to be my first buck. My dad said "that's a shooter," put the parking brake on, and we got out. He set up the tripod and I set my rifle on the sticks and found the buck perfectly broadside in my crosshairs. I was nervous and wanted to make sure I made a clean shot on the first buck of my life, so I took my time. One second, two seconds, three, and my dad said "take it." Four, five, six, seven, and then I felt my dad bump me in the back. I looked back and the side by side was rolling down the hill, and the only thing between it and me was my dad. He had his back into it, boxing it out like a basketball center, but he could only hold it off for so long. By the time I looked back through the scope the buck was gone, and the side by side was rolling faster. Luckily my dad jumped in the driver's side and got it stopped. In the moment I was pretty bummed, but on the drive home we were able to laugh about it. Looking back now, I wouldn't trade that memory for the buck that would have been. In my opinion that is a pretty good first buck success story.