Your Hunting Heritage.
General Topic
Funny thing is, my dad didn’t hunt. He never had interest to.
In my adolescent years, a few summers in a row, I would watch some of my cousins shoot their recurves, getting ready for deer season.
Arrow after arrow, they would shoot and laugh, joke around until it got serious at the end of summer. That always intrigued me. What was so special about hunting deer.
It wasn’t until my mid 20’s that my former wife’s uncle took me hunting after I got my Bowhunting license. Those beginning years where the best. Lesson after lesson each time afield.
Only a few short years ago, I did find out my grandad did. He hunted squirrels and rabbits. Then I was given this photo which I’ve reproduced and keep on my mantle as a reminder.
Just look at the barrel on the single shot gun. Holy crap.
He raised 12 kids and hunted for food.
I guess I can say hunting was in “ my blood”
And I’m thankful it is.
How where you introduced to hunting?
My dad was an occasional rifle and shotgun hunter with friends. I was too young to go. By the time I was about 10 I had the bug but my dad had moved on to fishing and golf. I made bows and arrows, then bought a bow with paper route money. By 12 I had traded a cowboy belt buckle for a maple recurve.
When I turned 16 I got a Jeep Willys and a Bear Kodiak Magnum recurve and fell in with friends who also bowhunted. From that point on, my lifestyle revolved around bowhunting and I never looked back.
Later in life after I became a fairly widely-published bowhunting feature writer and photographer and speaker, I felt like I had achieved accomplishments that went beyond just killing animals. The cherry on the sundae.
I never had an urge to collect species. For me, the process, and "hunting well" is the most important aspect, regardless of the species being hunted. The process is what I lived for and still do.
My whole family. Naturally my dad led the charge getting us in the woods. But, his brothers, my uncles on my moms side, and my grandad on my moms side played a big role. Between them all, we spent all the ti e in the woods that school and sports allowed. Fishing and trapping was the same too.
“I never had an urge to collect species. For me, the process, and ‘hunting well’ is the most important aspect, regardless of the species being hunted. The process is what I lived for and still do.”
Nicely put. But we already knew you could write. ;)
My grandfather, Dad’s side didn’t hunt nor fish, not in my dad’s experience, anyway, which seems unusual for a man born in the ‘90s…
My dad introduced my brothers and me to flyrods when we were around 8 and shotguns at about 12. We were introduced to Labs at birth. He shot a modest 4-pt mulie when I was 5, and he never felt a need to do tvat again, but to me, he was an absolute hero.
Pop used to bring home old copies of F&S and Sports Afield from the waiting room at his office, and I devoured those. Shot a bow at 10 at Scout Camp and was hooked immediately.
My brother & I carried wrist-rockets everywhere we went; bows, too, when we had arrows for them. Apart from the magazines, I had to teach myself everything I know about hunting big game, and I have been modestly successful at it; probably would’ve done better had I been able to continue to hunt 20-25 days a season for another dozen years… or 2 dozen by now.
I guess Hunting Well is probably the aspiration; for me (so far), the point of the exercise is simply Getting Better At It, so my worst season ever was the year I ruined a perfectly good 12-day trip by tagging out on a huge cow opening morning. I week later I stood less than 15 yards from a bull that would have fit right in on the wall of the Buckhorn Bar down in Laramie. Public land, OTC unit, that’s a better bull than most will ever lay eyes on.
So I’m not There yet, but God willing, I’m not Done yet, either….
Nice, GF. I forgot about slingshots. I was such an archery junky that I rigged an arrow rest on my Wham-O slingshot when I was about 12. Not very efficient...
Similar to WV, my whole family was predominately all hunters and anglers. It's what we did for fun and food, whenever we could. I really don't know any other way of life.
Matt
Dad loved to hunt small game...squirrels and rabbits. Always had a great pair of beagle hounds. He would shoot groundhogs off the local soybean fields in the summer. Loved to fish as well...including several years as a tournament bass fisherman. That was my early introduction to the outdoors...bowhunting and big game hunting not on the radar.
During my early teens, my aunt married a bowhunter. He would come out to the farm and shoot arrows into the dam of our pond. Didn't take long for me to become obsessed with archery. It was common to see deer while squirrel hunting and by my late teens, I decided to give bowhunting a try. Learned to bowhunt at the school of hard knocks. Arrowed my first deer on opening day of my second bow season. I was hooked.
A few years and a few deer later, there was a role reversal in the family. Dad became very interested in bowhunting...following in his son's footsteps! We made some great memories in the deer woods. Never could get him interested in bowhunting western species...but he sure loved bowhunting whitetails. I can't go anywhere at the farm that doesn't hold memories of Dad.
When my mom decided I didn't need diapers anymore and dad needed equal time . Lol so off to the duck blind I went me, dad and grandpa. Then at age 7. I got a fiberglass longbows with wood arrows and a fishing pole for my birthday. The rest is history.
Family tradition for me from both sides of my parents from my earliest memories so just a natural part of life. What I always think of when this topic comes up are the posts of a late bowsiter that went by the handle "City Hunter". He was an active poster from the city that seemed to develop a bowhunting interest on his own after growing up in an urban environment. This was interesting to me as that did not seem to be the norm. He turned out to be a fine hunter as well as a very well liked person on this site.
My dad hunted deer, elk and small game. His only archery experience was a recurve he had in late 60s. He shot a hole in the chicken coop and a chicken (at least that's how the story was always told).
Folks divorced when I was 10 and that meant summers on my own all day. My buddies and I roamed the fields with slingshots, bb guns, and bows most every day. When my Dad got home we would throw a .22 in the truck and hit the local prairie dog town. Tagged along on rifle elk hunts until I was old enough to have a tag of my own.
He brought home a Ben Pearson Jet Recurve and a handful of arrows. I was hooked and managed to kill a pronghorn with it when I was 16 on a solo trip 4 hours from home.
Rode my bike to elementary school with my shotgun a couple times. Mrs Landers would put it in her storage closet until the bell rang. Then my buddy and I would hunt until my dad got off work and picked me up.
Almost all my high school buddies hunted and we chased ducks , geese and pheasants before and after school. Happy that my son shares a love for outdoors. Not as obsessed as I was but that's probably ok.
My Dad and Mom were both saltwater fishing fans. He bought a 22 for the 3 boys and 2 of us were hooked. He always stressed not shooting something I wouldn't eat so for years I would pass up coons while I was bowhunting. Now that I turkey hunt I will shoot every one of them I see. My dad never hunted but he stressed safety every chance he could.
My dad and uncles hunted small game and I was often the dog until I was old enough to carry a gun. My best friend in high school was only the second person I knew of who killed a deer with a bow in 1967 after their reintroduction to our county about 10 -15 years prior. I bought a Bear Tigercat in 1976 and haven’t missed a season since.
I come from a non-hunting family. Both of my parents were city born and bred. Fortunately they moved to what was then the edge of the suburbs when I was born. I started watching Davey Crockett and Daniel Boone on the TV when I was a young kid, and I knew right then and there that I wanted to hunt/fish and be in the woods, and as soon as I was old enough to be out of my mom's sight I was in the woods. My dad had the foresight to see this, and he had a very close friend who was a TOTAL outdoorsman, and my dad had him take me under wing and he became my "hunting" father. By the time I was 12, I started a trapline, and then started hunting small game. A few years later I shot my first deer with him. He was the best all around woodsman I've ever known.
When it's in your blood, it's in your blood!
Fast forward 42 years.....my "hunting" father was with me on the hunt where I killed the biggest deer of my life by stillhunting.. I could tell by his expressions that he was just as overjoyed as if he killed it (and maybe more so). He passed away 4 years later.
Nobody in my family hunted. My course of bow hunting was brought to me by happenstance when my stepfather bought me a bow at 13 years old.
I started bow hunting in earnest when I was 21 and fresh out of the service. They say addictions will kill you. Well, hopefully not this one.
Small game hunting with stick bows
Small game hunting with stick bows
I started out on pesky groundhogs
I started out on pesky groundhogs
My older brother got me into hunting and the outdoors when I was about 10 years old. He always leaned toward the more traditional side of hunting, which is why I find myself opting for the stick bow or the muzzleloader when I head into the woods. My Dad was never really into hunting, but he's the best trout fisherman I know, and I remember going fishing with him at an even younger age, maybe 6 or 7? I remember getting discouraged on days I would get skunked on the stream, or when I wouldn't even see anything in the woods...but now that I'm 45 I learned something that can be best summed up with this Fred Bear Quote - "A hunt based only on trophies taken falls far short of what the ultimate goal should be." The biggest trophy I could ever pull out of that stream or take out of those woods, is the memories I've created with my family. Nothing beats that.
Didn’t come from a hunting family. In the mid-80’s one neighbor lent me his spare bow, and another neighbor let me hunt out of their “permanent” wooden treestands. So my introduction to hunting was very much facilitated by the generosity of others.
Growing up in N Minnesota, I cant ever remember NOT hunting. My parents hunted, my grandparents hunted. We had a big farm and had lots deer and partridge.
Ive told the story of this photo before. Back in 1968 I sat in a jackpine tree with my dad. No tree stand, just up in the branches. This doe came right below us and he shot it.
I'll never forget that he let me do the blood trailing. There was some snow so it wasnt difficult, but I was only 4 and having the old man let me go first was a 'right of passage'.
I still have that bow
I was always in the woods with a BB gun, then a 22, and as I got older, shotguns and rifles. My mom would tell me to go out and get partridge for supper.
In the fall, I remember going with my grandpa driving real slow looking for partridge. He would let me run out and retrieve the birds after he shot them.
Got older and ran with buddies from school who also hunted. We hunted bear, deer, ducks, geese, partridge... you name it, we hunted it.
My father didn't hunt. I found out later that he had mental scars from WW2. He said he was a hunter in his youth. He bought a .22 rifle and taught us all to shoot. He said it was important for us to know how to use a gun. I happened to have a next door neighbor who was disabled . He saw my desire to be outside and hunting was in my blood. One day he presented me with a homemade bow and a half dozen arrows that he made for me. I was a six year old hunter. Most of the creatures around me were safe but nervous. By the time I was 11 I had my mother sign for a hunting license. It was $2.;25. The timing was perfect . It was just before a ten day muskrat season. The trapper next door offered me $.50 per rat. I took the old .22 and paid off my license and bought a couple boxes of cartridges. Another neighbor saw my interested in hunting . For years His son and I were joining him hunting deer. He was a great mentor. I joined him for his last hunt. It was bittersweet. Sorry to be wordy but The topic brought strong and great memories.
My grandfather died when my Dad was 7. He was a small game, bird hunter.Thus my Dad's grandfather taught him to hunt. With a 1921 bolt action 0.22. We still have it in the family, has been used up til about 2014 to have folks pass firearms safety.
My wife only started hunting when we started dating. Bowhunting first then just turkeys these days. Her father didn't hunt but grandpa in Wyoming did. He handed down the 300 savage to my son.
My Dad bowhunted from the 1950s til his death at 67, 30 years ago. Me, I have bowhunted 49 years now. This year will make it 50. Dad's biggest buck was one he had to recover from a thief who knocked the antlers off while trying to hide it. Without knowing the spread hard to score but by guessing a16 inch spread would score about 133. Only 1/3 inch deduction from side to side. Shot it with a recurve at Camp Ripley, MN. Found an old broad head and two bullets in it. One tough deer.
I’ve also passed the hunting heritage on to both my kids.
Grew up chasing pheasants….
Grew up chasing pheasants….
Now we chase deer with bow n arrow…..
Now we chase deer with bow n arrow…..
My dad passed the hunting gene on to me. And I passed it on to my son. FWIW, the hunting was much much better back then.
1957. My Dad was 37 and I was 4. His one an only archery buck. It’s genetic.
I grew up in a Northern Minnesota town where everyone seemed to hunt, trap & fish. Every conversation began with the same. Lots of trucks with a small boat, snow sled or wheeler in the back depending on the season. My dad came from the Carolina mountains where they pretty much lived off the land. Mom grew up on a fishing resort in Minnesota. We hunted & fished a bit but not as much as I wanted. I was obsessed with everything outdoors. Devoured every outdoor magazine or book I could get my hands on. Bought a fiberglass recurve from the hardware store with my nightcrawler money. Terrorized the small game until I was old enough to chase deer. Still spend every spare moment in the whitetail woods and feel pretty lost when the season ends. Have traveled all over North America & other continents hunting & fishing. Steelhead & salmon are another passion. My wife doesn’t even know how to buy meat in the store. Pretty much live on game& fish.
I was born in NJ to a non-hunting family. None of my uncles, etc., hunted either. My father died of cancer when I was still in grade school. My mother had one sister and husband who had settled in WA state after serving in WWII. They invited my mother to move her family "west" where my mother eventually remarried to a retired Air Force pilot.
He took me hunting for the first time when I was 12. These were really camping trips for him, however, as he only shot one deer with a rifle for the rest of his life. I got lucky and shot my first buck when I was 16, and was hooked from there.
The local continuing education program from the community college taught a muzzleloading building class at my high school. (Just imagine that today!) I joined, and built my first flintlock at 17. Met several crusty old buck skinners and one invited me to join him hunting whitetails with our smoke poles. Here started an addiction that has me now hunting the globe with rifle, smokepole, and bow as the seasons dictate.
By the way, my senior project in high school was to machine a fully functional flintlock from bar stock, making every single piece, including making screws, etc. The flint I sourced locally (on the ground). From hardening the frizzen to tempering the springs, it was a great introduction to metallurgy and craftsmanship. I even engraved the lock with an old hand chisel engraving tool. Good memories and this piece as a place of honor in my collection. Bill
My Grandpop hunted, fished and trapped to raise nine children during the depression, in Connecticut.
My grandfather was a passionate small game hunter, deer hunter and conservationist. My dad was a hounding, ran hounds on raccoon and beagles on rabbits. I grew up into a strong hunting and trapping culture and took to like a duck to water.
My father hunted small game,primarily ducks,there were very few deer in this part of NY state in the time I was growing up.Born in 1949 so the 50's,60's and 70's.I was introduced to deer hunting by a high school friend(Adriondacks). I killed my first one in 1985 in the town of Oswegachie(St.Lawrence co.),that year there were SIX deer reported in the whole township (71 square miles).I have since killed about 40; average one a year.Last year there were 240 taken in the township.We almost have too many deer now.
Interesting stuff. Lots of similar stories about how we grew up with it. I'm waiting to hear some like the three guys I'm mentoring, who had no hunting heritage, just decided one day in their 30's (and one in his early 50s) that they wanted to learn to hunt.
My Dad didn’t hunt, but he would kill squirrels to eat. There were no deer in East Texas until I was in my teens, and very few then. Many counties around us had no season until I was in my twenties, but I hunted squirrels, rabbits, doves, and ducks to fill in the cracks. I gradually became a deer hunter, but my passion was squirrels and ducks until deer got to be pretty populated and every county had a season. I didn’t seriously take up bow hunting until 1978 when I bought my first bow, a Bear Whitetail II. When I was a youngster I read everything I could about hunting and the authors were my teachers. Back then, there weren’t many articles devoted to bow hunting, but Fred Bear and Jim Dougherty were probably my favorites. When it came to handguns, Elmer Keith was my hero. A rifle was always just a tool to me, with a couple of exceptions, but I always loved bows and handguns like some guys love cars. I still think and breathe deer hunting almost year ‘round. I can’t imagine ever stopping.
Yes my dad hunted with gun and bow. But ice fishing was his favorite. My dad died young. From diabetes. He was only 40 when he passed. I was 16. I thank him for sharing his passion of the outdoors with me. I will always cherish the memories. Then I was blessed to have a Step Dad that really enjoyed his fishing. He treated me just like a son. And I love him very much. And I Will always cherish our memories fishing together as well. I think Charlie Brown hit the nail on the head! We come from a hunting and fishing family. And when it’s shared with family. Well it gets no better then that.
Here’s a picture of my step Dad. He loves his fishing. He beat cancer. And he’s 83 years old. And still loves to fish.
Thats a once in a lifetime dog there, Tazz- smarter than most Democrats…and more fun to hang around with….grin
Thats a once in a lifetime dog there, Tazz- smarter than most Democrats…and more fun to hang around with….grin
My dad didn’t hunt…I started hunting because of friends. I started bowhunting while I was still running Dogs for hogs back in the early 80’s
My dad didn’t hunt. One grandfather did, but never took me. He had stopped hunting by the time I was 16, and got a driver license. He gave me his rifle, a camp stove, and a lantern. Off to the mountains I went!
I think I was 20 when I found out about archery. I was hooked the first night I shot a bow at the bow shop. My hunting skills were pretty much self taught/learned.
The one exception was meeting a fellow member at the archery club that is really good at calling elk. We became great friends, and he taught me
He also taught me the importance of making shots happen fast , and capitalizing on encounters with animals. It’s not often you get an animal standing around broadside in the wide open all day!
By the time I came along no one hunted or fished in my family. My parents fished when I was young, but moved onto golf before I could remember.
One grandfather trapped and hunted for food and money when he was a kid, but his outdoor days were long gone by the time I came along
The other grandfather was a farmer and he worked from sunup to sundown. He lived outside but I never knew him to do anything but work the farm and go to church and spend time with the family. I do cherish the days I got to spend with him in the hayfield when I was young.
Fortunately, I grew up outside a small town of 800 people. My parents place borders several thousand acres of Corps of Engineers public land and a big lake. I was given the freedom to wander the woods at a young age and lived out there. And being rural, almost everyone I knew hunted. I had a burning desire to hunt and pursue
I built a “self bow” out of a beaver chewed stick and a boot lace when I was just 7 or 8 ;). I was hell on wheels with my first BB gun
I remember shooting that bow and my BB gun for hours. And spending a lot of time in the woods.
When I expressed interest in hunting my parents supported it all the way. They owned a single shotgun for home defense. But they Provided me with guns, freedom, and got me places to hunt and people to take me. Mom let me freeze bobcats in her deep freeze, and cleaned and cooked whatever I managed to kill or catch.
Ive always felt I hit the lottery with the parents I have ;)
I grew up fishing with my Dad and Grandpa. They didn't hunt but we fished all the time and I loved it. I went off to college and before my senior year my Grandpa gave me one of his old shotguns. I was renting a house so I took it to school and put it in the closet in my bedroom. Few months go by and I became buddies with a couple of guys that hunted, it interested me but I never said anything to them. One day we had some snow and they came by the house to clean some pheasants they had shot. After they left I grabbed my Grandpa's shotgun and headed out around the lake to some public ground. Parked my car and began walking and after about 30 mins I thought, this sucks and started heading back to my car. My head was down and was carrying my shotgun down by my side and with every step I was thinking this hunting stuff isn't for me. About 100 yards from my car I stepped right on a rooster and that thing came boiling out of the snow! After missing with my first shot but I regained my composure and folded it with my second shot. I ran over to it and was in awe, it was the coolest thing ever! After that, I was hooked big time. Graduated, got my own bird dogs and started chasing/thinking pheasants every moment I could. Pheasants turned into dove, deer, turkey, coyotes, pretty much everything else you can hunt in the state of Kansas. I teach middle school kids and I enjoy sharing photos and wild game meat with them. I've even taken some of them hunting over the years.
Growing up Dad and grandfather both hunted and fished. Mostly gun until me and my brother got old enough to want to bow hunt. Summers with the BB guns were detrimental to the critter population around our neck of the woods.
I grew up in north central MO just south of Iowa in the Green Hills. My dad had rifles and shotguns and would go goose hunting with his buddies. I recall he took my brother and I out to hunt squirrels and rabbits a time or two, but mostly we were left to our own devices with an old .410 single shot and a .22 rifle and our BB guns. Dad loved to fish though so we did a lot of fishing for bass and crappie and bluegill. Then he got into fly fishing for trout....and that was a new obsession. Fishing just pissed me off mostly....tie on this lure or fly.....try a bit.....get bored and tie on another.......get a wind knot in the line......spend way too much time dorking around with lines and tying chit. Not my preferred passtime.
I had friends who enjoyed hunting and we would expand our prey to dove, quail, and pheasants. I convinced my parents to let me get some conibear traps and I ran some trap lines for muskrat mostly. Learned to soak 'em in walnut shells to reduce human odor. Learned how to set them by reading books and fish and fur. I remember taking off on my cross country skis to check the line in blizzard conditions and dad coming to pick me up on the side of the highway above the slough I was working and having to swim/dig through the drifted snow to get 12' up to the roadway. I was always in the woods, mostly with a weapon, but always on an adventure based upon the wild west and pioneer books I read voraciously at the time. I remember going through hunter safety training and getting my card at 13 or so. So my heritage has been mostly on my own with friends....and it has been a constant in my life....with a couple years off in FL when I spent most of my spare time golfing with a occasional hunt here and there. I think I may be trending that direction in coming years as age dictates fewer adventures by myself and my hunting friends mostly back in MO.
My father started me on the woods at 5. At 6 I got Daisy Red Rider. With that empty gun, he started to teach me how to properly handle a gun. At 7 he started to let me shoot it. He has already checked my Master Eye, so he had me shooting lefty, although I was right handed. Then I was taken along on small game and bird hunts.
At 9 I got interested in trapping. Tough to find hip boots for a 9 year old back then. He drove a long ways to a field and stream store in Milwaukee, to buy me a pair.
At 10 I had the 410 and hunting out the door for food. By 13 he gave me a 20 Fox Double ....
New Guinea and its terrible toll on my dad's body, took him from me. He was a Ghost Mountain Boy......
At 15 I was on my own. My dad had prepared me well.
Now at 73 not a day goes by I don't miss him.
My dad and I hunted and fished together for as long as I can remember. He was mostly a bird hunter, but hunted white tails for a few days every year as well. I started taking my kids at a pretty young age, but neither of them showed much interest until this past season, when my son really turned on to dove hunting. My dad, my son, and I all got a chance to be in the field together last September, which was pretty special for us. My son will be 11 this March, and we plan to go through Hunter’s safety together this winter, and I am going to try and get him on a Turkey this Spring in Nebraska. Families that hunt together, stay together!
My brother and I grew up following my Grandfather everywhere he went. My Dad didn't hunt. In those years in western KY there very few deer and turkeys so it was mostly squirrels, groundhogs, and a few rabbits for us as we didn't really have any dogs that hunted. As the deer and turkeys started to take off, we started our pursuit. Dad didn't really think gun deer hunting was safe, so I made my case about why bowhunting would be safe since I'd been shooting a bow since i was 6 yo. I got to finally go archery deer hunting when I was 14. 2 does and an 8 point tried to run over me that first hunt and I have been hooked ever since. I also had a neighbor take me under his wing who just happened to be one of the best woodsmen I've ever been around and he taught me a ton even though he was not a bowhunter. Pretty much self taught archery and bow hunter but those close to me were always very supportive. My son likes to gun hunt for deer with me. Maybe he will follow down the bowhunting road one of these days but he's in the corporate rat race right now. Great to hear these stories. These are almost better than the really cool hunt recaps here on Bowsite. Seems that the common thread is just an immense appreciation for the outdoors no matter where we live or where we came from!!!
I'm loving the stories and pictures.
No hunting heritage here really. I’m pretty much a self- taught bowhunter. My parents both immigrated here in the mid 1950’s from the Netherlands. I am the first American born citizen on either side of my family. My dad did have an interest in hunting. He had a long bow and would shoot it a little in the backyard when I was a kid. He bought a deer hunting license a few times, but never launched an arrow and never killed a deer. But that ignited the spark in me to shoot a bow and pursue deer hunting. My best friend growing up came from a hunting family so that also helped to fuel the passion. We both bought “Bear Whitetail” compound bows and started to learn how to bow hunt.
Uncle Charlie
Uncle Charlie
Uncle Billy
Uncle Billy
Uncle Johnny
Uncle Johnny
My grand fathers first buck
My grand fathers first buck
My great uncle Charlie ( fathers uncle) was a well known bowhunter in the 50’s/60’s In fact I’ve had Fred Asbell , Gene and Barry and Roger Rothhaar tell me how he was someone they looked up to back then… I don’t know if my father hunted , he passed before I was 2 years old but my grandfather did and my uncles would take me in the 70s
Wild game and fish is what I grew up eating. My father would say, it's not that we can't afford store bought, but why when you can catch and kill your own. It was actually my chores to go to the pond and catch a bucket full of bluegill then scale and gut for supper, along with going to the tobacco barns and shoot pidgins and have them breasted out for supper. My family has eaten more fish and game than any other I've ever known.
Yes absolutely hunting and fishing for substance has been a family tradition.
My dad never hunted for recreation. When he and his dad hunted deer it was for food.
First time my dad took me hunting we had multiple antlerless mulie tags. For learning how to field dress, the plan was that dad would field dress the first deer while I watched. Second deer I would do while he coached. By the third or fourth one, I should be able to do it myself. I shot the first deer square in the guts with my 308. Went and got my dad to field dress it for me. When he saw the oozing green mess he looked at me and said “change of plans” :) I don’t recall shooting anything in the guts ever since.
everyone in my family hunted. grandfathers , uncles, cousins, dad, brothers.
still that way, we had 5 kids, 3 boys 2 girls..boys still hunt, girls did when they were younger. pretty much just a part of life.
Great thread and even greater stories.My father’s family were mostly all huners and fishermen.They grew up in Ms. south of Jackson during the depression.The War of northern aggression,reconstruction, and the depression they had pretty much lost everything .Five of the brothers enlisted and fought in WW2 and all made it back. Dad took me duck hunting in NE Tennessee when I was 3 or 4 Dad carried me on his back across a frozen creek on his back and I had on a pair of white rubber boots on and one fell in the creek.Much to my chagrin he poured the water out and put it back on my foot. I was cold and ready to go home and then the mallards poured in and I was hooked to say the least.That was over 70 years ago and I remember like it was yesterday. I actually went to school in the Ms. Delta because of those damn ducks.My Dad didn’t hunt very much as he built a produce company with offices in 5 southern states.These offices just happened to be in some of the best hunting and fishing areas in the South.Though he couldn’t go most of the time, he knew all the farmers in those areas and who just happened to be the best hunters and fishermen around and he introduced me to my mentors and the rest is history. I was very blessed and very lucky and by the way I met my wife and best hunting buddy duck hunting on Lake Okeechopee.Good Luck Lewis
My grandson and me moose hunting near Fairbanks. 2014
My grandson and me moose hunting near Fairbanks. 2014
Not hunting but this is my great aunt in the ’50s. She had left the resort in Minnesota & moved to San Francisco. Married one of the wealthiest men in town. She loved to come back to split wood & fish. She had a beautiful fox coat on one visit she wore out with grandpa to check the whitefish nets. They had a huge 25-30# pike in the net that she wasn’t about to waste. She wrapped up in that prized new coat & smuggled back to the resort.
Great photo Basil thanks for sharing Lewis
Goat hunting the cliffs of Kauai
Love all the pictures I started hunting with my 760 powermaster .177 at 10 years old had to wait till I was 14 to deer hunt and 53 years later still chasing them, never could get dad to pick up the bow.
Dad always hunted when I was growing up, but I don't think he was very serious about it. I only remember him being successful a couple of times. My brother and I both got a PSE Spirit for Christmas the year I turned 12, and I became a bow shooting junky. At 14 I got to go and hunt by myself, and since I've been an adult I hunt as much as I can. I now hunt deer in gun season as well as bow, and I'm branching out into waterfowl and upland game.
I intend to bring my kids out with me as much as I can and hopefully foster their interest in hunting of all kinds as well.
I should note that I was lucky enough to grow up in a small town with a good size creek that flowed into a good sized river in the middle of town. I was really a fisherman first and foremost as far as being outdoors, and most of my skills have been self-taught. I'm super thankful that I was allowed to venture out into the woods and streams by myself as much as I was.
My dad came from a non-hunting family, but somehow, through friends, he became a duck hunter. He leased an island in the Grand River in MI for years. His stories of clouds of ducks and great hunts got me interested and my hunting began as soon as I could take firearm safety class when I was 12. Started with an obsession with duck and goose hunting with my dad. Eventually we joined another club that had a bunch more duck leases, but they also had deer property. That is how my deer hunting started when I was a sophomore in high school. Borrowed a Rem 760 30.06. Shot my first buck that first year. Shot a buck with the gun for four straight years. In the meantime, a buddy introduced me to archery. Bought a Polar LTD in 1970something. Didn't get serious into bowhunting until 1987 when I shot my first deer, a doe, in the UP of MI with a PSE Pulsar. Then bought a PSE Jet Flite Express and really went on a killing spree after I discovered how effective hunting from a treestand was. LOL. Hunted with that bow from 1988 through 2000 and shot 20 deer and a bear with it. Moved to central MN from SW MI after graduating from Mich State Univ. in 1991 (two degrees). Been obsessed with whitetails ever since I started. Still do some waterfowling as well. Have three boys now and hoping they continue the hunting tradition. Oldest and youngest are into waterfowl, especially the youngest. Middle boy does some bowhunting with me. He's still looking for his first bow kill, but he's busy as a teacher and hockey coach. Hopefully get him on a deer this year.
First buck with a bow
First buck with a bow
My dad loved to hunt, but never had very much free time to take my brother and I very often. He was too busy working daylight to dark to provide for us. He would occasionally take us squirrel or pheasant hunting, and once I got old enough (12), deer hunting during the shotgun season. Fortunately, my brother, who was 5 years older than me, always let me tag along with him, trapping, fishing and hunting. First, it was heading out to the barn at night, with flashlights, to shoot sparrows and the occasional pigeon. There would always be 8-10 barn cats following us out for a feast. I loved reading the stories in Fur, Fish n Game, Outdoor Life, Field and Stream and Sports Afield. Especially loved the stores written by Russell Annabel.
I didn’t start bowhunting until about 1984, after I had moved to Oklahoma. My bow was a Browning Deluxe Nomad ll. First animal I killed with a bow, was a mulie doe, and I was hooked forever on bowhunting. I haven’t killed a big game animal with a gun, other than a finishing shot on a wounded gemsbok in Africa, since 1985. I wish that I had started bowhunting when I was still in high school in Iowa.
Not much on my Mom's side. My grandpa shot one deer his entire life in MN. Beast of a deer, Well over 300 lbs according to my grandmother and my parents have the rack(which my brother put on a cape, probably mid 130's/140's. Shot in 1947. It goes back generations on my Dad's side. All the men would go to deer camp thanksgiving week after the harvest was over I was fortunate to do that a few times in HS and College. My cousins and uncle still do it and my dad will join to hang out some. I am building points (used to be OTC) so I can go again one of these years. Mostly still stay in the same cabin although that gets a shakeup occasionally. We hardly saw deer let alone shot one. The herd is in much better shape now that there aren't unlimited tags any more.
I enjoy reading these stories and getting to know a little about some of people behind the handles. Things like t-roy saying that the barn cats would follow him waiting for a meal bring back similar experiences l had at 6 or 7 years old. Our cats would follow me whenever they saw me with a bb gun and grab the hit birds before they hit the ground. Many of the other stories above bring back memories also. Great thread.
Grew up with a Dad that loved to hunt ducks, grouse, pheasants and particularly deer. My first duck and pheasant trip was with him with a .410 shotgun. I learned the sky was pretty big on that trip! Took me deer hunting for the first time when I was 12 on the last weekend using a 12 gauge Remington pump. A doe and buck came by single file. I shot 11 times at them. Meaning I reloaded twice. Later my Dad said he figured that couldn't have been me. He had given me a whistle to blow if I shot so he could come and check. Will insert here that my Dad had bought himself a new deer hunting jacket that year which was a big deal for him. He was off some distance up on a high stump. When he heard me blowing the hell out of that whistle he got excited and slipped off the stump and ripped the zipper out of that new jacket. He arrived all excited for what I may have done. Told him what happened and said they should both be laying over that way as I pointed off in to the trees. Was about 8 inches of snow so he could easily see their tracks. And the lack of blood. After he looked and looked he finally started looking in the trees and noticed a number of slug hits up in the Aspen trees where the tracks were about as high as he could reach, about 8 feet I suppose. He said what the heck is this? I said well Dad they were jumping! Never heard the end of that from him or his buddies. So my start was with struggles.
My Dad died when I was a senior in college and he was only 47. Two years before that I got into archery with some buddies. First bow a 45# Bear fiberglass recurve with wood arrows. First time hunting with it was in Camp Ripley and shot a door first morning out. Things have picked up since then.
Oops!! Shot a doe at Camp Ripley first time out!!! Although with my other 2 starts a door would not be surprising. :((
One things for sure reading through these posts.
Hunting blood runs deep and it’s wonderful to see the torch being passed on.
My only wish is many of the kids in these stories have the same freedoms that we have had.
X2 on that!
I think Don Williams wrote this song for us.......
Lord Have Mercy on a Country Boy....... Don Williams
Well I grew up, wild and free Walkin' these fields in my bare feet There wasn't no place, I couldn't go With a twenty-two rifle and a fishing pole
Well I live in the city, but don't fit in You know it's a pity, the shape I'm in Well I got no home and I got no choice Oh Lord have mercy on a country boy
When I was young, I remember well I'd hunt the wild turkey and the bob-white quail The river was clear, and deep back then And fishin' lines tied to the willow limb
Well I live in the city but don't fit in You know it's a pity the shape I'm in Well I got no home and I got no choice Oh Lord, have mercy on a country boy
Well they dammed the river, they dammed the stream They cut down the cypress and the sweet gum trees There's a laundra' mat, and a barber shop And now the whole meadow is a parkin' lot
Well I live in the city but don't fit in You know it's a pity the shape I'm in Well I got no home and I got no choice Oh Lord have mercy on a country boy...
WW, Thanks for the lyrics. I will look for it on Utube by Don Williams. "Country Boy" by Johnny Cash was a good one for me. Treestandwolf, l agree with you. I do my best to mentor one of my granddaughters as a bowhunter but it is a tougher environment to maintain interest than when I started hunting. She does love hunting with my sons and me (especially bowhunting), Badbull
I passed it on to my brother and my son. I was there when my brother shot his first deer. A spike buck with the shot gun. And still to this day that was the toughest drag out. I was also there when my brother shot his first one with. Compound bow. He called me over after he shot it. He was still shaking. He asked me do you think we will find it? I looked down at the ground and it looked Ed like someone had rolled out the Red carpet. I laughed and said to my brother Tom. Yes this one didn’t go far:) Now my brother wants to get one with a recurve! How cool is that? I was there when my son Don shot his fist deer a small 6 point buck. A 10 yard shot with an old Stevens single barrel shot gun. No tracking needed. When I got to him the deer was only about 20 yards from where he shots it. I shook his hand and congratulated him. I showed him how to gut that deer. I was very proud of him. It was such a great feeling dragging my son’s first deer out of the woods with him. That little 6 pointer was the biggest deer in the woods that day. The day my son became a hunter. I remember it like it was yesterday. I will always cherish those memories made with my son and my brother. And we all still hunt together today…
Grew up fishing and hunting from my Dad and Mom. Always somewhere in the mountains and plains every weekend. They did not bowhunt though. I pick up archery in Junior College in Rangely . Even my last name Yeager means Hunter in German. It's in our blood
Cool thread!
My parents were not into hunting or fishing, nor were their parents. My folks moved to a small town for the northeast to run a boarding school a few years before I was born. Hunting/fishing was normal there. So I saw folks doing it before considering hunting myself. I got into fishing fast; by first grade, I wanted to go all the time - and that took off from there. I was tying flies and selling them to local fishermen by 4th grade, crazy as that sounds. Hunting was slower. For a while in grade school, I was "anti" hunting. We would drive around, pick up lost hunters during deer season, and help them find their cars - it was a "community" thing that my dad could do with some kids from the school and us. Enough of those "hunters" were actively drinking and a walking caricature of all the lousy hunting stereotypes you could imagine. That made it feel off to me. Most of those folks were not local and drove west from the Boston area and basically just walked randomly into the woods wherever.
But my neighbor hunted and had a bunch of guys who would come around to hunt during shotgun season. His son-in-law got into archery hunting and took me. We bumped into deer "still hunting," and I was hooked! My folks helped me find a bow, and paid for some of it, while I used the money I earned for the rest—probably 8th or 9th grade.
I was primarily self-taught, though my high school fish and game club's director, who was also a civics teacher, helped some, as did a friend who was the photographer for MassWildlife for years.
My parents were unsure about this activity but always felt like kids had to find their way and that helping them cultivate their interests was good. So while it was foreign to them, they helped. Before I could drive, they would drop me off or pick me up at set times. Or when I hunted behind the house, they would sometimes help me take my stand (homemade "portable" death trap from a field and stream that shared instructions on how to build) in.
When I got my first deer, my dad saw me drag it out of the woods, ran across a field to meet me, and helped drag it the last 150 yards or so. My mom just passed away, but both she and my dad still look forward to my call's after getting a deer or turkey and hearing about the hunt and what I saw in the woods that day.
My great-grandma told me stories of her dad shooting ducks out of the mud in the feedlot to feed their family while she was growing up during the great depression. Around WW2 there wasn't any big game in Missouri, as deer numbers were LOW and nobody mentioned turkey hunting, so my grandparents mainly squirrel and rabbit hunted, some of them had bird dogs or tree hounds. Around the 70s and 80's my dad got of driving age and began hunting anything he could. He and his friends each went through phases of having coyote hounds, bird dogs, and of course, deer hunting was in the mix as well. Before I was born, all the coyote running stopped and the quail got wiped out of Missouri (I blame increasing predator numbers with a decrease in trapper numbers and an inability to run coyote hounds, but the MDC repeatedly denies that skyrocketing nest raider numbers has anything to do with a decrease in quail and turkey populations, instead blaming the farmers who have farmed there well before quail numbers hit their peak. Not to mention a 15 quail limit, despite dismal quail numbers, allows the guys that do quail hunt to wipe out entire coveys in one day, but that's another topic))
My first deer hunt was when I was 4 months old in the womb, 5 months before I was born, in October of 1998. My dad was wanting to scout a farm he got permission on, so he sat on one trail and my mom sat on the other. Shot my first rifle (22) when I was 2.5 or 3.5 (I don't remember but it's written on the soda can somewhere) and began squirrel hunting when I was 5.5 or so behind our Mountain View Cur. Tagged along on big game hunts when I was 4.5 and 5.5, my dad always tells the story of when we were turkey hunting when I was 5.5, he said "well, I guess we better leave" and I said "No! 10 more minutes!" and then 5 minutes later he filled his tag. I have a picture of me sitting inside the rack of a deer he killed in 2001 when I was just a year and a half old. His desire to hunt definitely fueled mine, and I shot my first deer and turkey at 7 and 8, my first bow buck at 15. I will add, that he never pressured me to hunt, or demanded that I go. I know kids of similar backgrounds, parents and grandparents were big hunters, that have absolutely nothing to do with it, and instead spend their time playing video games or chasing two-legged critters. A lot of these kids, in my experience, were pressured to go by their parents or were hooked on iPads from the time they could crawl.
Genetic? I'm not sure. How it's introduced? Absolutely. Who's driving the idea? (Kid or Parent) Definitely. Obviously, with parents that hunt, the kids will be around hunting more in general, leading their curiosity about hunting to be peaked. That being said, if they get pushed too early, that curiosity can turn sour in a hurry and they can be turned off of the idea.
Me, 1949. Didn't get into archery hunting till later though. :)
They must not have had “youth models” back then, George…..Great pic!
This is a great thread! Both of my parents grew up poor, so hunting wasn't a matter of hobby for either of my grandpa's. They hunted to put food on the table to feed their families. My dad's dad hunted mostly rabbits because there was an abundance back then. Dad says he shot most of them with a .22 He never did deer hunt. My mom's dad hunted everything and was one of the first archer's in our area, back in the days when the deer were very scarce here. He did continue to deer hunt after he started working in the coal mine and it wasn't a necessity to hunt for food. My mom has lots of stories about growing up spending weekends on the Ohio river catching catfish. Supposedly, Al "Scarface" Capone spent quite a bit of time along the same banks as my mother. Mom would never go camping with us and even though she would cook it, she would never eat any of the wild game we would bring home. Said it reminded of her of the tough times she had growing up.
My dad got into bowhunting in the early 70's and continued up until 2 years ago. He also trapped a lot in the late 70's and early 80's when the money was good. He taught me and my brothers how to deer, rabbit and squirrel hunt. I started deer hunting with a shotgun at 11 and started bow hunting at 13. I'm the only one carrying on the tradition today. Three years ago we put together a photo album of pictures of deer kills spanning 60 years of family history and gave it to my dad for Christmas. My wife titled it "My Family Tree Has a Deer Stand In It". There wasn't a dry eye in the house as he sat going through the memories.
I started out young hunting small game. Never deer hunted until I was 15 in the mid 70s. My Dad started me n my 4 brothers deer hunting and Ive never stopped since. Only 2 of us hunt anymore. First gun was a Mossberg 20 ga bolt action in 1974. That same year Dad bought me my first recurve from the PX.
Nobody in my family hunted. When I was 10-11 I started to get the "bug". I'd hear stories of other kids who went gun hunting for deer, and knew that wasn't for me. About that time I'd just go out and roam the woods, you know outlaw-style. I suppose its a good thing it wasn't today; I'd probably be sitting in the crossbar inn.
About a year or two later I took the hunter safety course with a friend. As it turns out, he wasn't really into hunting, but I was. Bowhunting whitetail was my challenge. Mom and I went to K's Merchandise and she bought me a Bear Shadow... yep its a wheelbow. Oh the ignorance. It wasn't even until years later that I figured out stickbows were a legitimate hunting weapon. I thought they were something Native Americans used 200 years ago. Bear in mind, this was in the 90s. I just really didn't even know anybody who bowhunted, let alone serious enough to use a stick.
Well, a few years in I'm realizing my challenge isn't going so well. I've shot maybe a couple times without any luck. One buck I can remember from that time; a prototypical corn-fed 3.5 year old Illinois 8-pointer. I had him at like 5 yards and blew a tuft of hair and skin off the top of his back. He lived until later that season when the neighbor shot him with a gun. Those days are what many of us yearn for.
Over time I started adding equipment. Initially, I was dead set on a bare bow with no trigger. My accuracy was good enough to kill something had I held it together, but not great. 1st it was sights and then the release. I switched from expandables to Muzzy 3-blade on the recommendation of a guy I knew. Finally, years later, I connected on a doe. Interestingly enough, it happened down in the Shawnee and not at home where it really should have been so much easier. Here I sit, about 20 years later, typing on Bowsite.
There was an 18,000 acre WMA about an hour or so drive north..we would play music on the weekend and go hunting the next morning..Dad woke up several times with deer standing there staring at him, he had a knack for that. They closed the WMA down a few years ago, hunted there 40 years off n on. Manufactured treestands back then ..consisted of the Baker death trap...only brand I remember in the mid 70s. We had a couple, without the seat portion.
My Heritage is a Classic. My dad and grandpa took us fishing growing up in Ohio. They never hunted but the walleyes, yellow perch and small mouth bass never stood a chance. I was always interested in deer though from an early age. Had a nack for walking up on whitetail deer in the woods. FF to around 32 years young when i started hunting deer with a rifle in NM. If i could see em, i could kill em. Then i started bowhunting at 44 and only wish i would have started bowhunting from the get go. What a ride its been! Love it!
