What do you remember about hunting that makes you smile? Could be recent too, whatever made you smile while hunting and as many as you want.

I'll start .....
Hunting with my Uncles, cousins, Dad and grandfather around Lebanon county for deer back in the early 70's.

Buying my first brand new rifle.

Shooting my fist buck.

Shooting my first hog.

Watching the sun rise through a fog.

Rising above the mountain clouds en route to the hunting area the day before the season opens.

Still looking forward to hunting season at age 74 makes me smile,OB

My personal hunting has changed and devolved back to my actual first form of hunting, which was for ducks , I still get a kick out of duck hunting whether over decoys or jump shooting.

I first started hunting duck and dove in 1967 and even though dove hunting has lost its appeal to me, duck hunting hasn't.

I remember my first deer, an 8 pointer and while I still enjoy setting in a stand and helping someone get a deer or pig, especially when it is their first, the thrill has gone out of it for me.

In fact I have not shot a deer since 2015v when Lora and I went on the cull Mule Deer hunt in Pecos county that we were drawn for thru the Texas Parks and Wildlife Drawn Hunts program.

I lost interest in deer hunting for two reasons, the first was when I realized that landowners really did not want hunters stalking around their properties and second when deer hunting became a "Competitive Sport".

As for pigs the only time I ever shoot one is if Lora wants a small one to cook for a special occasion or if friends or family want one. I will set the trap and if I get one in it under 75 pounds, I shoot it with my .22 and I haven't done that in over a year I believe.

I have had a good run in my opinion, met a lot of good folks and seen quite a bit of the country and am glad that Lora has been there with for most of it.

There are a few things I would like to do, but don't know that I will be able to do them but only time will tell.

I do know that I weill treasure the memories I have from all those hunts, both when I was the hunter and when I have been the guide.

Every day I can get out and watch what the good Lord has given us makes me smile!

I remember the 30 mile trips to Grand Central in the big city. Dad would always make sure I had a new box of 1 1/8 oz 6's for my 311 STevens SxS 16 ga.

Oh man, those were the days that makes me smile with that deep, respectful, nostalgic feeling.

Zeke

Shooting my first buck at 16 about a week after my Dad had suddenly died on hunting trip of his own. One might think there was some Karma at work there.

Mark

I vividly recall my first two game animals - mallard duck drakes killed with a single shot .410 while jump shooting the local irrigation ditch with my dad and trusty golden retriever, Taffy.

My waterfowl hunting career was nearly voluntarily cut short months later when that same wonderful dog was drug into a ditch siphon and drowned faithfully trying to retrieve another duck I shot and killed. The grief is as palpable today as it was more than 30 years ago.

Our hunting lifestyle carries with it fond memories, as well as those not so cherished...

At 14, in 1958, Dad took me down to a hardware store and I bought a 1917 Enfield wrapped in greasy paper full of cosmoline. It took a couple days to clean that crap off with gas. Then the headspace was shot out. Took it back and picked another just like it from a big pile. For cleaning the first one up the owner gave me 100 rnds of ball ammo to get in practice with.
Just rebarreled that one a month ago as I'd burned the barrel out from shooting so much.

That same fall I shot my first bull elk beside Dad and a good friend. Both are long gone now. Three bulls strung out on a grassy hillside about 300yds. We got two of them. Dad and mine.

I spent 5 summers on a hay crew on the same ranch. Before we started haying, and when rained out. The rancher and I wandered the hills all over the area. It got where I knew the areas so well that when I was 15 he had me take guys out to hunt with that were paying to be there. Quite a few killed their elk with me "acting as a guide" and didn't know I was for a couple years.

The proudest hunt I was ever on was with my first wife. We'd worked together to get her a rifle she could shoot. Her first game shot was a a muley buck and made a one shot kill. We'd fired about the same time and I had to finish mine up.

George

The best moments besides my own are firsts.

Have been seeing my son and daughter with their first.

First grouse on the wing first what ever.

Last May I called my daughters first tom to her she was 31 at the time.

I was there for their first deer, bear and many other critters.

My daughter has always said I think your more excited them I am.

Could be I love helping them and others get their first game.

I was born a city boy and Dad was not an outdoorsman so my uncles took me on my first hunts. These early outings were little more than drinking expeditions but I did get to spend a few precious moments afield and it was magic. The problems of being a young person living in a city that I hated disappeared. I was only 100 miles away from Milwaukee but it was another world.

I smile as I think of what happened on November 10, 1979. The entire decade of the 1970's went by and I had yet my first blood. On that morning a young deer and I stumbled into each other but the deer didn't survive the encounter. I fainted when I saw her lying on the ground. I honestly didn't think I'd ever be successful.

Decades later hunting still takes me to another, more pleasant world.

Watching a flock of grouse sneak through junipers and low fir bows thinking they are invisible.

My wife's face when she shot her first whitetail.

My daughter's face when a big 4X4 whitetail snuck up to the blind and peeked inside. They were face to face and neither knew what to do.

Hunting sharptail, huns and pheasants with my mom. My dad couldn't walk long distances, so my mom would go with me until I was old enough to hunt alone. She still went even after I was old enough. We were hell on upland birds.

Any sunrise while I am out and about.

Jeremy

Great stuff. Lots more to come I hope.

Every time I’m hunting
Just can’t beat “ Back to nature” ( and I wear cloth most of the time )

The smells of autumn get the heart pumping like the oak leaves when they drop because that means that deer rifle season is coming soon. Wish I could bottle that smell, it's kind of sweet.

I have been able to experience some adventures that I will never be able to repeat, that is why I started guiding.

I am able to share my world with others, I do not see anything wrong with that.

I vividly recall how excited I was on my first squirrel hunt. Even though it was mid Sep, there was frost on the ground. I remember a squirrel came bounding down a path as I sat watching; I broke out with a huge case of buck fever.

I remember the next year going antelope hunting with my pal across the street; he couldn't drive so I drove the whole way. My mom about had a fit.

I remember my first pheasant; my brother and I were walking a fence line and he took off; I threw the gun to shoulder and he dropped.

I shot my first deer while in college; shot four while I was there.

My first caribou and sheep in Alaska were pretty special, as was a DIY grizzly I shot on Memorial Day 1987.

My first hunt in Africa. My 21 day hunt in Tanzania in 2009 when I shot lion, leopard, buff, and elephant among others.

A goose hunt I did with my son in law on Christmas Eve morning a few years ago.

Last year's first dove hunt, when I found a little puddle of water in the desert and they came pouring in.

The first coyote I ever called in.

30 seasons of hunting deer in northern MN, esp one evening when I was in a portable, covered in snow, a very long walk from the shack. It had been snowing all day and was dark and quiet. Just before legal shooting ended, an owl swooped down past me and landed on a tree branch. After a few minutes he silently dropped to the ground and came up with a mouse. I still remember how great the woodstove felt that night.

I have been lucky to have hunted all over the world; in June I hunted leopard in Zim and in two weeks leave for Australia. But I still find pleasure in hunting quail and rabbits in AZ and my week at the shack in MN, tucked along the Canadian border.

What bothers me the most in looking back over my time as a hunter and then getting involved on internet sites like this one, is how easy it is for people to attack other hunters experiences.

There's no place like deer camp. The times I've spent with friends and family are irreplaceable.

I remember when I was young going out with my dad n brother they were hunting deer n elk. Remember my dad buying me a 22 mag. I shot my first rock chuck with it. Then he bought me a 30 carbine. Next came a 3030 I got my first elk with. My dad past away when I was 12. That year I got my first deer. I remember shooting my first cotton tail with my older brother with a single shot 22. Im 40 now sure miss my dad wishing he was still around. Now my 2 oldest sons are 11 and 12. I watched my oldest get 2 bucks already. There grandpa is probably looking down watching those 2 hunt. I still hunt but I enjoy watching and taking others out. I got plenty of game now I like to see others be out hunting.

First grouse on the wing when I was 12 or 13, 30" barreled full choke Rem 870 20 ga... must have been luck but I still remember the flush, what I thought was a folding bird, and searching for 10 minutes and in the process of giving up spotting a lone feather resting on some brush... Found the bird laying underneath.

Stalking squirrels with 22's, then pellet rifles, then archery tackle in that order...the rifle was too easy. Sure learned how to stalk game that way.

Still-hunting through a cedar swamp in NE WI during the 9 day deer gun season. I had just taken a few steps and was scanning the area and a large bobcat walked out from some low pines down a fallen log 40 yards away. He walked out in front of me and sat down, scanning the tag alders for game. I watched him til he wandered off and he never saw me standing there in the open. That day I knew I was doing things right.

Seeing the excitement of a nephew after calling in a vocal tom and him downing it...that was the first turkey he had ever seen as he lived up north.

Taking an afternoon off from an archery elk hunt and catching a half dozen trout on willow poles and a length of 6 lb mono with streamers I tied the evening before with frayed 550 cord and a few rubber legs from my bowstring silencers.

Those are a few just off the top of my head, and really the memories are endless...

Going pheasant hunting on Thanksgiving morning in the fields behind my parents house in the early 70s when you had to buy a ten tag package for pheasant. Had to tag pheasants like we do deer. My first blacktail buck with my dad being with me. First wild boar I shot actually gave us a bluff charge as we had him cornered in a old river bed. Friend shot him as he ran passed us and when he hit him my pants got sprayed in blood.

Squirrel hunting with my grandpa in the family woods at about 4-5 YO. Seems a large red fox went around the tree and grandpa asked me to go "look" for it on the other side. Off I go and walked around the tree to come back to say it's not there only to have him almost drop it in my lap.

Riding out way before daylight to our elk stands looking up at the stars.

Riding in my Dad's 57 International to go pheasant hunting. It had 4.77 differentials and topped out at about 55mph. It was a looooooong ride.

Ignoring someone negative goes a long way online Randall.

Which reminds me, here's a couple more.

Seeing Randall get all fired up when I dropped my last hog (#2). He jumped up and said yeah man ya got 'im!!!! Yeehah! or something like that.

Watching Gatogordo smile as he cracked a joke after I shot my first hog.

quote:

Originally posted by Crazyhorseconsulting:
easy it is for people to attack other hunters experiences.

Yes I should ignore such actions, but really none of us should be put in that type situation simply because we have experienced something different than what they have.

Defending ones experiences is certainly noble Randall. No doubt. But, in my experience, one stand is enough to make a point. Flames burn out quickly unless they are fanned. Positive diversions work around those as well. Good for the ol' ticker.

Well, hope you're having fun down there.
Have you been out to the blinds lately?
Too hot?

Good luck hunting ducks this year.

Waking up from a sound sleep as I sat in a rotten hollowed out stump in a snowstorm with 3 inches of snow on my hat to find 10 does in a row to my right lined up like dominoes watching me sleep and probably curious as to what/who was snoring so loudly. That was back in 1988 or so. Still makes me smile.

My fondest memory is my first deer,when I was 16, shot in 1963 in Errol, NH hunting with my Dad and a bunch of his friends. It had snowed about a foot prior to our hunt, so tracking deer movement was easy. We walked over a mile into the deep woods to my Dad’s favorite spot. He dropped me off at first light at a large downed tree and he walked about 100 yards to another downed tree, where he sat. At 7:50 AM, a big doe walked to within 50 yards of me and I dropped her with a single shot from my Savage 99. My Dad was the Chief of Surgery at a Boston area Hospital, so I got expert instruction in gutting her. While I was gutting her, it started snowing really hard, and when I was all done, we had to dig around to find my hunting coat, which I had taken off prior to gutting. The 1+ mile drag through over a foot of snow was taxing, but I was a pretty good athlete, and my Dad was 43 and a very strong former farmboy. The doe ended up weighing 152 lbs, and I only weighed about 135 lbs at the time. My Dad told the story of that dragging ordeal in a whiteout for many years, until he died at the age of 91.

Young tike going with my Dad on a ramble. Rabbits pheasants squirrels, I’d get tuckered and ride on his shoulders. Then get yelled at for knocking his hat down in his eyes!! Stop and make a fire for hot tea and then I was ready to walk some more.

quote:

Stop and make a fire for hot tea and then I was ready to walk some more.

That is one thing I will aslways remember about my Moose hunt in Newfoundland. My guide, a fine gentleman named Wally Brake carried a small tea kettle in his pack and a couple of small cans of fruit cocktail or peaches.

Everyday around 10 a.m. or so he would find a spot close to some water fill the tea kettle and brew us some tea and we would set and have a lite brunch.

That was such a neat adventure and the break for tea and a snack was a sdpecial part of it.

Yes! Amazing the energy boost from hot tea. Always noticed the old sour doughs made hot tea and not coffee.

One of my earliest memories was walking through a woods at sun up. I was mesmerized by the shafts of sunlight lancing through the trees when a covey of quail blowed up at my feet. I got behind Dad and the gun post quick!

quote:

I was mesmerized by the shafts of sunlight lancing through the trees when a covey of quail blowed up at my feet. I got behind Dad and the gun post quick!

You would be surprised just how fast a human can move when walking to a fishing spot on a summer afternoon in rattlesnake country and flush a pair of bobs from under your feet!

I have seen folks holler, levitate three feet up and five feet in the opposite direction it will get the andrenalin and sometimes the bowels to going!

About 1987 my #2 daughter wanted to try deer hunting. Being cheap, I got her squared away with a 30 Carbine, military ball Ammo to get her used to the gun and peep sight. I had only 5 Norma soft point cartridges to set her on the stump with. Figured she would freeze out and go to the house shortly after daylight anyhow, didn't have much money for Ammo those days. About 7 am a nice eight point walks down the hill, she stood up, took off her mittens, dropping them in the snow, picks Up the carbine and shoots at the buck. Buck runs away. Missed! Sits back down, puts on her mittens, pours a cup of coco, racks the rifle and continues to "hunt". 20 minutes later two does come walking down the edge of the cedars, she takes careful aim over the stump and shoots at the biggest doe. Finding blood along the tracks, she dutifully marks the trail with her knit cap and mittens so we could find it, and heads to the house. My brother hearing her shooting, arrives on the scene and recovers both deer, the doe shot at about 75 yards and the buck only 25 yds away. Good times!

I bet she was one happy hunter as were you probably.

She was pretty proud. Her brother and cousins not so much (jealous). She handed me back two loaded cartridges..one still laying where she racked the rifle. (Didn't realize it fed itself). Boys in her class that knew she was going hunting were gonna tease her, but got their com-upance when she showed them pictures..they started calling her Rambette.. And, yes, I was pretty tickled for her, (and the extra steak and burger...) we videos the meeting in my dad's garage that morning..lots of fun!

Those are really special memories that can never be forgotten.

At age 13 I drew a PHU tag near where I live. Dad told me to figure out what gun I wanted to buy and what caliber. I found a used mod 70 270 weatherby at traders den. I moved pipes to buy the gun and still have it. Day 4 dad put me on a raggy six point. The rest of the story is still hanging on the wall of his living room.
My dad was a guide for around 20 years. I guided for around 6.

Best hunt of all time took place when I was 33. Dad drew a limited entry elk muzzleloader. Day 5 I called a 320ish bull into 15 yards. Dad smoked him. My dad told me, thanks for getting that bull for me. Proudest I have ever been.

This year hope to better it as my brother has the same elk tag, and my dad has a goat tag.

Just going. I could get ready in 30 minutes, 4 of us in one ute driving 500 klm to get there, 2 people in the back 2 in the front.

Waking up in my swag on the ground hearing a mate saying PIG PIG PIG! Nailing it with my 30-06 on the run at 130 - 150 yards as it ran flat out across the mud flat.

Knowing once the lights of the biggest town half way there were gone you could pretty much do what you liked.

Not like that now.

quote:

Originally posted by Jeff SN:
At age 13 I drew a PHU tag near where I live. Dad told me to figure out what gun I wanted to buy and what caliber. I found a used mod 70 270 weatherby at traders den. I moved pipes to buy the gun and still have it. Day 4 dad put me on a raggy six point. The rest of the story is still hanging on the wall of his living room.
My dad was a guide for around 20 years. I guided for around 6.

Best hunt of all time took place when I was 33. Dad drew a limited entry elk muzzleloader. Day 5 I called a 320ish bull into 15 yards. Dad smoked him. My dad told me, thanks for getting that bull for me. Proudest I have ever been.

This year hope to better it as my brother has the same elk tag, and my dad has a goat tag.

Great stories Jeff!

Haven’t heard the words “Traders Den” for years!

I remember often going to the back of their store and looking at the used guns.