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Post by Kyle on Oct 22, 2019 19:27:31 GMT -5
Probably when I was 11 or 12 years old, me, my older brother by 2 years and my dad we hunting in Hickman Co. TN. down near Ugly Creek. Texas Steer boots 2 sizes too big, 3 pairs of socks on so the feet didn’t blister, camo of 2 different patterns that had been washed in Tide one too many times, a dry rotted plastic blaze orange vest that sounded like leaves crunching as you walked. Slept in the back of a ford courier pickup with a camper top. My dad proceeds to tell my brother and I that hunting would be a rich mans sport one day. I looked at him like he had lost his mind and wondered why any rich man would be doing what we were doing... Dad passed in ‘96. I’ll never forget that hunt.
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Post by hillbill on Oct 22, 2019 20:36:05 GMT -5
I have so many I wouldn't know where to start, my boy just sits there dumbfounded when I start telling tales, he would like to think I'm making them up but he knows better.
I remember my first deer hunt when I was 12, back then where I live everyone ran deer with dogs including my stepfather and all the crew he ran with, deer were scarce and just to find a fresh track was a big deal much less see a deer, in those days (1972) almost no one had a jeep or four wheel drive.
everyone hunted with shotguns, most used buck shot. hunting clothes consisted of 2 pairs of jeans with oversize overalls or coveralls IF you were really fortunate, I remember I was running around in a pair of old work boots with holes in them.
we camped in an old 57 chevy school bus converted into a camper and like to have froze to death, I still remember laying in that old junk sleeping bag with all my clothes on shivering all night long. Still I was dying to do it all over again the next year. Must have been the cold nights that gave me some kind of sickness, I guess I have never gotten over it after 47 years?
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Post by dennis on Oct 22, 2019 21:33:06 GMT -5
Every hunt is special just because I get to do it once again and all the memories of them are also. So many of the friends and family have since passed but the love and fellowship shared lasts a lifetime. I have not had the pleasure to share a hunting campfire with anyone on the board but I do know how enjoyable it would be from the great times shared in KY.
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tedb
Full Member
Posts: 190
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Post by tedb on Oct 22, 2019 21:33:23 GMT -5
It was December of 1978 I was 12 my dad was a member of club in potter co pa. We went up for the first 3 days of buck. Opening morning we hear shot right after first light dad looks over say you two stay here and points at me says come with me that was Bud if he hit he going to need a hand. We walk over to where Bud set up 250 yards up hollow from the cabin. He stand at edge of the field says it was standing some where over here. Dad took one look said come on you 2 I know where it went. Never looked for blood back to cabin walked over to the game pole there laid buds 6 pointer. The first deer I ever gutted. While doing it we hear a series of shots said stay with bud that was your brothers. In hazy of chesterfield smoke up mountain he went. A damn shame 4 years later cancer would take him from us. But one thing I still do if I hear a shot from a friend iam there to help. I thank him for that
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Post by outdoors81 on Oct 23, 2019 8:59:07 GMT -5
I got into hunting 24 or 25 years ago when my Uncle took me Squrriel hunting. My mom then dropped me off at some guy's (Lane) house that she use to work with to have him show me the ropes. My mom had a way of volunteering people for things they really don't want to do. I thought that at first, but that drop off turned out to be one of the best gifts I ever received. Hunting and the love of nature can bridge generational gaps(40 years). Lane has since been in my wedding and one of my twin daughters(Laney) is named after him. Sometimes the most unexpected things in life turn out to be the most treasured.
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Post by Richard on Oct 23, 2019 15:25:42 GMT -5
Back in the middle eighties I was hunting in northern Maine adjacent to Baxter State Forest. The lodge we had stayed with the past few years was some 15 miles "off the grid!" They had gas lanterns in the cabins, two diesel generators, grew their own veggies and groomed about 200 miles of snowmobile trails. On weekends, the snowmobilers would stop by their lodge for food and hot drinks...........but I digress...Anyway, one morning after about a 10" snow fall, I was walking on now of these trails. It was quiet as a church mouse and beautiful.........the trees were heavy with snow and hanging down over the trails. I was walking up a slight incline looking for a place I could set and get a decent view. While walking, I heard a strange crunching type noise up ahead of me. I stopped to listen when from around a bend, here comes BULLWINKLE at a trotting pace directly at me about 25 yards away! (No, I had no moose permit). Well.............I jumped off to the side of the trail and this bull moose darted off to the other side. I think we were both as surprised to see each other on that trail. Sure got my heart pumping!
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Post by olebud on Oct 24, 2019 21:23:15 GMT -5
Mine has to be the last deer my son killed before we lost him. We had maybe an hour and a half until dark and he was hopping to go. It was the arkansas youth gun hunt, and we hunted right by the house. I let him carry my Savage 10ML2 and away we went. 30 minutes after we got in the stand he said “daddy, here he comes!” I looked up and this gnarly 6point with horns that looked a foot tall came easing along. I said to let him get closer, and Jackson said I got him daddy. I told him to take his time, and BOOM!!! The buck lurched forward and ran 50 yards and piled up. He passed away 3 months later.
We had recovered the bullet, and I saved it all this time. I bedded the bullet in the stock of my new build, and named it the JackHammer. He’s always with me.
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Post by joelmoney on Oct 26, 2019 20:54:51 GMT -5
We had recovered the bullet, and I saved it all this time. I bedded the bullet in the stock of my new build, and named it the JackHammer. He’s always with me. That is pretty cool I would never have thought of that. |
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Post by gd357 on Oct 28, 2019 20:24:01 GMT -5
I've got a bunch of them, so I won't bore you with all the little things.
The few that stand out...
Taking my little sister out and getting to see her shoot her first deer (a nice young 9 point). She'd really struggled with a LOT of misses, and it was great to see all her efforts pay off. That was epic.
Sitting in the stand with dad when he took his first buck. That was a 2 deer morning. He shot a doe, and about 45 minutes later killed a buck. I only wish I'd had a video camera with me... I hunted all season, and he shot 2 deer in a 2 hour hunt...
The first time I killed a deer, my grandfather (who took the time to get me into hunting) was about 100 yards down the treeline from me. He could have shot the deer before I ever saw it, but he held off, and I managed to make a running shot at 60 or 70 yards with a smoothbore slug gun. I don't know who was happier. He talked about it so much, I think some people may have been tired of hearing the story. That was my biggest lesson in passing on our hunting tradition, but it took a few years to sink in. Still wish he'd been around for the big buck I got about 6 months after he passed. He saw it anyway, just wasn't there in person for the celebration.
Taking my dad bear hunting for the first time, and both tagging out the same day. He heard my shot about 20 minutes before he got his. He's said many times that it was the trip of a lifetime. I couldn't agree more. Won't forget that trip as long as I live.
That's enough rambling for someone who has had their share of hunting memories and then some... Can't wait to get the nephews out and see how they do. Still a few years to go. Hopefully...
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Post by Ice on Nov 2, 2019 6:23:05 GMT -5
I was a freshman in high school and my dad was in Saudi Arabia in the first Gulf War. A friend of ours took me on the juvenile hunt. We had climbed into the loft of a hay barn overlooking the field. We were able to see a nice buck and some does about 150 yds a half hour before first light because of a full moon. As shooting light dawned, I began. A Remington 7400 chambered in a faithful .270. 3 magazines later (11 shots) the deer finally ran off. About an hour later 2 more deer came out. I shot twice, dropped the gun out of the hay loft, climbed down got the gun and fired 2 more times. He said shoot again you missed. My reply was I can’t. I don’t have any bullets left. I had shot 15 times and not so much as a hair was touched.
Side note: the rifle had a set of roll-away mounts and evidently in transport the scope/mount was knocked off. I will never own such a system. Went back that evening a killed a small buck with a different rifle on the first shot.
But I can still hear my father’s dear friend say “shoot again, you missed.” I have made a point to take many kids including my own on a juvenile and other hunts. Counting my three (2 girls and a boy), I’ve had 8 first time deer kills and I remember more of them than the deer I have taken. I’d soon take someone as hunt myself.
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Post by Richard on Nov 2, 2019 8:32:29 GMT -5
+1
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Post by gd357 on Nov 2, 2019 20:41:45 GMT -5
+2
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Post by joelmoney on Nov 2, 2019 21:39:27 GMT -5
Ice that is a classic. Thanks for sharing.
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