Remembering how I got here.

[Pdzoller]

Just wanted to share something of how I got into hunting, honor someone who meant the world to me and share a story.

When I was a kid he gave me my first rifle. I could barely lift the old Enfield 06’.

He patiently listened to all my questions about hunting and fishing and bought me a subscription to Outdoor Life.

He took me out to get my first kill and had me watch the rabbit’s eyes as it’s spirit left. He explained respect, love and responsibility.

On my first elk hunt he taught me how to be quiet and truly commune with the woods and not just stomp around.

Somehow I lost touch with all that in my late teens and up until my Grandfather passed in my early thirties.

My cousins and I decided after he passed, we would take up hunting again and head back into the woods. We now spend several times a year at hunting camp. We share stories and remember the great man that made us possible.

Please feel free to share something in memory of those that deserve it.

Thanks.

 

[Scoot]

Really great post! My dad, grandpa, and my mom... stories could go on and on. I owe my love of the outdoors to them. I miss them every day.

 

[Silvereagle50]

Awesome share. Good for you. My dad is where I got my love of hunting.


Sent from my iPhone using Tapatalk

 

[Buck197]

What a wonderful sharing of what brought you into hunting. Your grandpa sure sounds like an amazing man. Good hunting.

 

[Sherman]

I grew up in a beach town on the coast of central California. Never hunted, only fished and surfed, but nature was my refuge. I found my way to the special forces in the Navy and honed my shooting skills. After my discharge, and a divorce, and meeting my current wife, having 3 sons, and 12 years in a great job, we decided we could not raise our kids in California. We sold everything and moved to rural Colorado. My new best friend in Colorado took me duck hunting, followed by a goose hunt, then a turkey hunt, then getting invited to tag along on an archery Elk hunt, followed by my middle son harvesting his first deer before I even had the chance to take a shot at one. We are only two years into our journey, but loving every second of it whether we get skunked at the river duck hunting or shoot a limit of geese from a pit. We are now outfitted with Kifaru packs and all the lightweight gear we can afford. We plan to spend every weekend this summer backpacking, scouting for next big game season, and fishing in the mountains. My two oldest sons have the same wonder of the outdoors and we are learning it together. I wouldn’t trade it for the world.

 

[Buck197]

I grew up in a beach town on the coast of central California. Never hunted, only fished and surfed, but nature was my refuge. I found my way to the special forces in the Navy and honed my shooting skills. After my discharge, and a divorce, and meeting my current wife, having 3 sons, and 12 years in a great job, we decided we could not raise our kids in California. We sold everything and moved to rural Colorado. My new best friend in Colorado took me duck hunting, followed by a goose hunt, then a turkey hunt, then getting invited to tag along on an archery Elk hunt, followed by my middle son harvesting his first deer before I even had the chance to take a shot at one. We are only two years into our journey, but loving every second of it whether we get skunked at the river duck hunting or shoot a limit of geese from a pit. We are now outfitted with Kifaru packs and all the lightweight gear we can afford. We plan to spend every weekend this summer backpacking, scouting for next big game season, and fishing in the mountains. My two oldest sons have the same wonder of the outdoors and we are learning it together. I wouldn’t trade it for the world. View attachment 370667View attachment 370668View attachment 370669View attachment 370670View attachment 370671View attachment 370672View attachment 370675View attachment 370676View attachment 370677View attachment 370678

I saw you on TV years ago..Grizzly Adams!! That's awesome. Thank you for your service. Army vet here. Ft. Morgan huh, I lived in Morrison. Used to hunt with a feller that lived in Ft. Morgan..helluva hunter. Looks like a great young man that yall are raising there.

 

[ReddingArcher]

Its awesome hearing how everyone got into hunting. I love hearing about people who werent raised hunting and its somehow found them. I started hunting with my dad as early as I can remember, mostly road hunting and pushes for blacktail. I remember making pushes and he'd let me carry my bb gun along like I was actually involved with the hunt. He made it on a couple of backpack hunting trips in my early 20s. About 12 years ago my youngest brother was killed in an accidental discharge and my dad quit hunting after that. I know its still in his blood though cause he still talks about animals that he wants to hunt.

 

[Sherman]

Its awesome hearing how everyone got into hunting. I love hearing about people who werent raised hunting and its somehow found them. I started hunting with my dad as early as I can remember, mostly road hunting and pushes for blacktail. I remember making pushes and he'd let me carry my bb gun along like I was actually involved with the hunt. He made it on a couple of backpack hunting trips in my early 20s. About 12 years ago my youngest brother was killed in an accidental discharge and my dad quit hunting after that. I know its still in his blood though cause he still talks about animals that he wants to hunt.

I’m guessing you live in Redding from your handle. I used to work for PG&E and before we moved out of California, we decided to give it one last chance and I took a bid to Willow Creek for a short time. Beautiful country but couldn’t get away from the insane taxes and laws.

Sorry to hear about your brother. That is one of my fears with my kids. That is also why we always practice gun safety.

 

[BBob]

Hunting skipped a generation in my family and I started it back up, with help of course. My great grandfather was part of the group that brought elk back to Arizona (Winslow area unit 4A) which was very successful which then led to more successful transplants into Arizona and New Mexico (If you didn’t know the Merriams elk went extinct from over hunting). The result of those efforts was my grandfather was able to do a lot of elk hunting early in his life. As a youngster I remember him talking fondly of those days and how it all came to be. We were a single mom family. A volunteer big brother and avid bird hunter took me up at the age of 8 and trained me up on the use of a 22lr and a single shot .410. Hunter safety course at 9 then licensed and hunting rabbits and birds at 10. Shot plenty of rabbits and got my first doves that year. It took me until the following season at age 11 to get a few quail. That same year I was upgraded to a Marlin lever action .410 repeater (family heirloom) which helped with the quail. I was strictly a bird hunter for several years until my early teens. Friends and families that hunted were mostly big game and I was able to tag along. After a year or two I started big game hunting and it’s never stopped. I’ve been in it now for over 50 years. Harvested many of those elk in AZ and NM started from those ancestors efforts. I’ve hunted pretty much everything AZ and NM has to offer at least once or twice and hunted other western states along the way too. If I had to choose one thing to hunt it would be Coues deer. Not done yet

 

[Buck197]

Its awesome hearing how everyone got into hunting. I love hearing about people who werent raised hunting and its somehow found them. I started hunting with my dad as early as I can remember, mostly road hunting and pushes for blacktail. I remember making pushes and he'd let me carry my bb gun along like I was actually involved with the hunt. He made it on a couple of backpack hunting trips in my early 20s. About 12 years ago my youngest brother was killed in an accidental discharge and my dad quit hunting after that. I know its still in his blood though cause he still talks about animals that he wants to hunt.

I'm so sorry about your brother. Loved hearing about you and your father, very similar to my childhood. Maybe he will go make 1 last hunt with you.

 

[Buck197]

I think I may have posted this somewhere on Rokslide before, but yall sure make a feller nostalgic so I'll share my hunting life again.
I was born and raised in Southeastern Oklahoma, in the Quachita mountains(pronounced Washita). It's the tip of the Ozarks I guess you'd say running down south and west from the Boston mountains of Arkansas..they sure aren't like yalls big hills...we're a tad bit smaller..
My father was called Buck as a nickname since long before I was an inkling in his eye. My family, ourselves included has always been heavily involved in agriculture.

Cattle and horses, to this day.
As a kid, daddy would pull me out of school for the day to go hunting, this happened ALOT..probably why I'm dumb, ha. Things were a whole lot different back then, and we sure didn't follow the letter of the law, he'll not even the law back then. We had a hell of a set of kennels we built, that included squirrel dogs, cow dogs, bird dogs...setters and pointers, and some extremely amazing deer dogs. Before yall freak, remember this would've been in the 70s and into the 80s. My first real Christmas gift from my dad that I recall was a Browning abolt gold medallion .257 Robert's. That began a trend of a new Browning per year for Birthday and Xmas. I still have that rifle, it's a P.O. Ackley improved 257 nowadays. We kept the unofficial deer season for years from the 1st cool off of the year til the end of the year. We had alot of quail back in those days and used to be 10 or noon have a brown paper grocery bag full of quail. We ate fried deer meat or steak almost daily. It was a way of life.
I can't begin to say how many days I spent hunting in my youth, but it was a helluva lot more than a hundred a year. Fast forward to 1998, I went home for deer season, daddy and I hunted, we took a feller and his son that he worked for hunting and fishing in our neck of the woods. That was the last time I spent with my father before he was diagnosed with Multiple Myeloma cancer and his life dramatically changed until he died a while after..
I took a pretty long break from hunting and horses and most everything that was dear to my heart revolving around my dad. I hunted a time or 2 here and there and that's it for a long time.
And now, at 51, I'm trying to pass a few things along that my dad put into me hunting and horse wise into a handful of people around me. Hunting and horses have always been my escape and my 2 passions. I'm looking forward to getting back to chasing my beloved muleys. And some elk again. I'm still half burnt out on whitetail hunting.
Oh and incidentally as illegal as it started off, while daddy was alive still I became a master hunter safety instructor thru what was then the Colorado division of wildlife, and I am strictly a by the book man and have been for years. However I really miss that race..I killed alot less deer over dogs than I do hunting my way, but that race is insanely addicting.

 

[ReddingArcher]

I'm so sorry about your brother. Loved hearing about you and your father, very similar to my childhood. Maybe he will go make 1 last hunt with you.

I sure hope he does, I think he might he always talks about coming on our out of state hunts to hang out in camp but I could see him grabbing an elk tag in Colorado one of these years!

 

[Ca_Mike]

After posting about helping to keep my dad hunting for several more years I was thinking about starting a post just like this to those that got us into hunting, I'm glad Pd did. For me it was my dad. He was a life long deer hunter here in California so it was natural for me to start hunting with him at a young age, first with my BB gun, then a 22 and finally my own rifle once I was old enough to get a tag. When I was in college he began going to Colorado for elk with some of the guys from his work. They never did well as the group he went with was never very serious. Once I was out of college and I was in my career he and I began going on our own and began having success. We hunted elk in Colorado for 17 seasons before he passed away in the spring of 2018. The highlight of his hunting "career", and mine, was when he drew a Tule elk tag here in California in 2015. He took a very nice bull, which is in my avatar. For us it was always about the experience and never the size of the rack. Miss ya pop.

 

[Buck197]

After posting about helping to keep my dad hunting for several more years I was thinking about starting a post just like this to those that got us into hunting, I'm glad Pd did. For me it was my dad. He was a life long deer hunter here in California so it was natural for me to start hunting with him at a young age, first with my BB gun, then a 22 and finally my own rifle once I was old enough to get a tag. When I was in college he bag going to Colorado for elk with some of the guys from his work. They never did well as the group he went with was never very serious. Once I was out of college and I was in my career he and I began going on our own and began having success. We hunted elk in Colorado for 17 seasons before he passed away in the spring of 2018. The highlight of his hunting "career", and mine, was when he drew a Tule elk tag here in California in 2015. He took a very nice bull, which is in my avatar. For us it was always about the experience and never the size of the rack. Miss ya pop.View attachment 371569View attachment 371570View attachment 371571View attachment 371572View attachment 371573

My lord your dad stamped you..Spitting image. Wonderful story. Thanks for sharing sir.

 

[Broomd]

After posting about helping to keep my dad hunting for several more years I was thinking about starting a post just like this to those that got us into hunting, I'm glad Pd did. For me it was my dad. He was a life long deer hunter here in California so it was natural for me to start hunting with him at a young age, first with my BB gun, then a 22 and finally my own rifle once I was old enough to get a tag. When I was in college he bag going to Colorado for elk with some of the guys from his work. They never did well as the group he went with was never very serious. Once I was out of college and I was in my career he and I began going on our own and began having success. We hunted elk in Colorado for 17 seasons before he passed away in the spring of 2018. The highlight of his hunting "career", and mine, was when he drew a Tule elk tag here in California in 2015. He took a very nice bull, which is in my avatar. For us it was always about the experience and never the size of the rack. Miss ya pop.View attachment 371569View attachment 371570View attachment 371571View attachment 371572View attachment 371573

What a great posting.

I'm a bit envious in that my dad didn't hunt per se' but he did get me into guns and shooting with my first Marlin .22 at 15 and first Mossberg 12g shotgun at 18. Obviously I still have those old guns, a bit rusty now from 'snow day' neglect as a kid. One of these days I'm gonna restore them.

I remember heading out and typically bringing home a squirrel or cottontail for the skillet and dad always beamed with pride.

 

[JBrown1]

I grew up in Northern California. My fondest memories of my dad were getting to go fishing with him. Unfortunately those memories stopped when he died of a rare heart condition when I was 5 years old.

All through my childhood I fished relentlessly. I would skip school to fish for steelhead, ride my bike distances that you wouldn't believe to fish for salmon, head off fishing while on vacation with my family, etc. Looking back I can see that it wasn't really about fishing: I was trying to find some way to connect with father, trying to give myself something that I lost when he passed. And I continued to search well into my teenage years.

I never had the chance to hunt with my dad, but he left me his hunting rifle, his shotgun and a .22. Actually I somehow was able to appropriate them. My mom is your typical Norther California gun fearing hand-wringer. How she happened to allow me, at 7 or 8 years old, to keep my dad's rifle and shotgun in my bedroom I will never know. I do know that over the years she mentioned that I, "should sell those things and buy something" that I might have use for..... I never took the bait, I never even considered it. I knew that they were worth far more than any amount of money that they could have been traded for.

When I was growing up, no one in my family hunted anymore. Those who had hunted, had allowed life to get in the way and had moved on to different things. So, I was left to teach myself. Initially this consisted of heading out with friends to "hunt" on property of unknown ownership, during seasons that, if open, were only open by sheer luck.

Later I would take a hunters safety course and begin to hunt for real. By the time I was a young adult, I was even able to get my grandfather and uncle to get back into hunting a bit. I even talked them into traveling to the Rocky Mountains to hunt. What an eyeopener that was!

Eventually hunting became so engrained in my soul that it blocked out everything else. That changed when my daughter was born, but hunting has held a strong second place and I wouldn't change a thing. Shortly after she was born I became a single father and I realized that, as a teacher, we would never be better than "working poor" in California. So, when she was three I secured a job teaching in Wyoming and we loaded the truck and heading into the unknown.

During the five years that we lived in Wyoming she was by my side during lots of rabbit hunts, She learned to follow closely behind as I learned to track mule deer and elk. She was at my side for my first antelope, elk and many other firsts. She was visiting a friend when I shot my first mule deer buck. As happy as I was, I felt that something was missing in her absence. Since that time we have shared almost every hunting adventure.

Eventually a friend invited us up to Alaska to fish for king salmon. I made the mistake of accepting and we were both completely ruined by the wilderness we found in Alaska. We would return a year later to spend a month fishing and camping together, Just the two of us.

We visited remote roadless villages by boat, were awakened by bears walking past out tent, cooked and ate fish that were still flopping when we threw them on the grill. Looking back it's no wonder that we were spoiled by those first two trips. As we headed back to Wyoming after that second trip my daughter told me, "I think that I would like to live in a village in Alaska".

Not that I needed any encouragement, but within a year I was accepting a teaching position in the Brooks Range and selling our house in Wyoming.

We are entering our fourth year up here. Alaska has been full of firsts that I could have never imagined: first grayling, first dolly varden, first caribou, sitka blacktail, ice fishing, grizzly charges, king crab harvesting, a bit of frost bite, hunting dall sheep, commuting to school on a snowmobile, all species of salmon and trout, arctic foxes, and many other firsts. But the most important first: my daughter taking her first big game animal: a caribou bull.

Now I sit at 46, I've hunted 6 states, and several countries. I have traveled to a bunch more, and seen things that exceeds what the entire rest of my family has seen put together. Hell, my daughter is 12 and she has see and experienced far more than any of our relatives.

My retirement portfolio would make most responsible people either laugh or cry, but I have made memories that I wouldn't exchange for any amount of money.

 

[Buck197]

I think, if there were an award for what we are all writing, you ought to win it. Please give that daughter of yours a big hug. You're a good man, wish circumstances allowed me to buy you breakfast. I mean it sincerely sir.

 

[260madman]

Now I sit at 46, I've hunted 6 states, and several countries. I have traveled to a bunch more, and seen things that the exceeds what the entire rest of my family has seen put together. Hell, my daughter is 12 and she had see and experienced far more than any of our relatives.

My retirement portfolio would make most responsible people either laugh or cry, but I have made memories that I wouldn't exchange for any amount of money.

When you’re dead and gone the money doesn’t matter. The memories are what matters. You sound happy and content which is more than most people can say whether they have money or not. It’s how my wife and I live. My 13yo daughter has done more than I ever had when I was her age. Memories.

 

[ReddingArcher]

I grew up in Northern California. My fondest memories of my dad were getting to go fishing with him. Unfortunately those memories stopped when he died of a rare heart condition when I was 5 years old.

All through my childhood I fished relentlessly. I would skip school to fish for steelhead, ride my bike distances that you wouldn't believe to fish for salmon, head off fishing while on vacation with my family, etc. Looking back I can see that it wasn't really about fishing: I was trying to find some way to connect with father, trying to give myself something that I lost when he passed. And I continued to search well into my teenage years.

I never had the chance to hunt with my dad, but he left me his hunting rifle, his shotgun and a .22. Actually I somehow was able to appropriate them. My mom is your typical Norther California gun fearing hand-wringer. How she happened to allow me, at 7 or 8 years old, to keep my dad's rifle and shotgun in my bedroom I will never know. I do know that over the years she mentioned that I, "should sell those things and buy something" that I might have use for..... I never took the bait, I never even considered it. I knew that they were worth far more than any amount of money that they could have been traded for.

When I was growing up, no one in my family hunted anymore. Those who had hunted, had allowed life to get in the way and had moved on to different things. So, I was left to teach myself. Initially this consisted of heading out with friends to "hunt" on property of unknown ownership, during seasons that, if open, were only open by sheer luck.

Later I would take a hunters safety course and begin to hunt for real. By the time I was a young adult, I was even able to get my grandfather and uncle to get back into hunting a bit. I even talked them into traveling to the Rocky Mountains to hunt. What an eyeopener that was!

Eventually hunting became so engrained in my soul that it blocked out everything else. That changed when my daughter was born, but hunting has held a strong second place and I wouldn't change a thing. Shortly after she was born I became a single father and I realized that, as a teacher, we would never be better than "working poor" in California. So, when she was three I secured a job teaching in Wyoming and we loaded the truck and heading into the unknown.

During the five years that we lived in Wyoming she was by my side during lots of rabbit hunts, She learned to follow closely behind as I learned to track mule deer and elk. She was at my side for my first antelope, elk and many other firsts. She was visiting a friend when I shot my first mule deer buck. As happy as I was, I felt that something was missing in her absence. Since that time we have shared almost every hunting adventure.

Eventually a friend invited us up to Alaska to fish for king salmon. I made the mistake of accepting and we were both completely ruined by the wilderness we found in Alaska. We would return a year later to spend a month fishing and camping together, Just the two of us.

We visited remote roadless villages by boat, were awakened by bears walking past out tent, cooked and ate fish that were still flopping when we threw them on the grill. Looking back it's no wonder that we were spoiled by those first two trips. As we headed back to Wyoming after that second trip my daughter told me, "I think that I would like to live in a village in Alaska".

Not that I needed any encouragement, but within a year I was accepting a teaching position in the Brooks Range and selling our house in Wyoming.

We are entering our fourth year up here. Alaska has been full of firsts that I could have never imagined: first grayling, first dolly varden, first caribou, sitka blacktail, ice fishing, grizzly charges, king crab harvesting, a bit of frost bite, hunting dall sheep, commuting to school on a snowmobile, all species of salmon and trout, arctic foxes, and many other firsts. But the most important first: my daughter taking her first big game animal: a caribou bull.

Now I sit at 46, I've hunted 6 states, and several countries. I have traveled to a bunch more, and seen things that exceeds what the entire rest of my family has seen put together. Hell, my daughter is 12 and she has see and experienced far more than any of our relatives.

My retirement portfolio would make most responsible people either laugh or cry, but I have made memories that I wouldn't exchange for any amount of money.

Good on you man! No amount of money in a retirement portfolio means anything. I love seeing people living the dream and making the most out of life!

 

[JBrown1]

I think, if there were an award for what we are all writing, you ought to win it. Please give that daughter of yours a big hug. You're a good man, wish circumstances allowed me to buy you breakfast. I mean it sincerely sir.

Buck197,
Thank you for the kind words. I sincerely appreciate it.