Do you remember your first shooting opportunity?  I remember mine like it was yesterday.  I missed.  I had practiced a lot before I ever headed into the woods my with first bow, a cheap Bear Black Panther.  I picked it up on a closeout sale at a local Walmart.  Yes, I know it is a junky bow, but I was driving nails with it inside of 25 yards.  Out past that I started getting a little erratic.  Maybe because of the heavy arrows I was shooting and the large degree of drop I was experiencing out past that range.
I remember a friend named John had taken me to Hardin county Kentucky to hunt his mother's farm.  It was a several hundred acre piece of property that was more or less all hardwoods, except for a few fields.  I had only been in the woods a couple of times before this, and had seen deer, but never had a shooting opportunity.  It was still my first hunting season, and it was late in the season, early January as I recall.  There was just a week or so of bowhunting left before the season ended.  One of the things I remember most about this trip was how cold it was.  The temperature started off below zero that morning, and it never made it above the single digits.  I doubt it made it over 5 degrees that entire day.  I definitely learned the importance of owning good cold weather gear that day, none of which I owned at the time.  Due to my lack of gear, it was too cold to get in a stand that day.  I wasn't dressed for it, so I hunted on the ground.  I found a tree that had blown down, and made a makeshift blind on the edge of a clearing, sitting in a cold metal foldable chair.  This only added to my struggle to stay warm.
After about a couple of hours, I thought I was going to die.  I thought it was crazy to be out in this weather, and was ready to take the short walk to the cabin.  John had started a fire in the wood stove before we headed into the woods.  I was looking forward to spending some time next to it.  As I contemplated the though of that warm fire, I caught some movement in the brush across the clearing.  I clamped my cheap release to my bowstring, and got ready to draw.  As it moved closer, I could see that it was a young deer, too small to shoot in my opinion.  As I let my bow down, I caught movement again behind it.  This was a larger doe, most likely the fawn's mother.  She offered me a broadside shot at 25 yards, but I hesitated.  The scenario of taking a doe with its fawn right there never crossed my mind.  That pause cost me my first opportunity to take a doe.  As she stepped up, I lost that clear shot and was left with a simi-obstructed shot.  I had made the decision to take the shot, a shot that I missed.
I honestly don't know why I ended up missing that shot.  Maybe I clipped the brush that was in between me and her.  Maybe it was from being so cold, or from having so many poorly insulated layers of clothing on in an effort to stay warm.  Maybe I just wasn't as good of a shot as I thought I was.  I remember how much more difficult it was to pull my bow back to full draw that day, something that was normally easy.  The effects of the cold weather can take its toll on your muscles, and how rigid your bow it.
Either way, it was my first missed shot.  I remember seeing those white tails pointing straight up as they disappeared into a patch of cedars.  Defeated, I walked back to the cabin to find John and his cousin sitting next to the wood stove, and I told the story of my 'first miss'.  Luckily, this was the last miss that I would experience for many years.  There were others, but the first was the most memorable.