In another thread, a poster(McRae?) has a signature that reads:

"There are things I like to do and sitting by a windmill at sundown is one of them." RS

In my mind, I made that relative to AR by adding "with a faithful old rifle in my hands."

That got me to wallowing in memories,and I thought of a couple of times and places which were always special to me.

1. On Shallow solid-frozen ponds with bare willows sticking up through the ice around me, early in the December morning, in one of the common ice-fog white-outs often found in the far north (North of about 55 degrees). Looking around one gradually sees MANY little black dots against the all white surroundings, and then suddenly realizes they are the eyes of snowshoe hares, sitting just as still as I am, and enjoying the day just as much. I've got my old .32-20 Remington pump carbine with me, but I'm not gonna really kill anything. It just deserved savoring the day out there too.



2. A September mid-afternoon on top of a high hill of tall native grass and millions of round pebbles, just 3 or 4 miles SE of the Mule Shoe ranch in Unit 32 of SE Arizona. I'm sitting under one of the few, ancient, scrubby pine trees right on top, in the brisk 60-odd degree desert wind. There is an Eagle soaring & calling directly overhead, flapping his wings just enough to stay stationary several hundred feet up, and I can see almost forever....miles in every direction. This is "Jack O'Connor country", so of course I have my pre-'64 M70 FW in .270 along to survey its natural, fitting, environs.



Okay, guys, your turn. What are a couple of places and rifles that really touch YOUR souls?

Fall 1963, sitting on the bank of a canal watching baby ducks floating by with my brothers Nylon 66 and a pocket full of shells.

A long time ago, when mallards were plentiful - not those housebroken inland mallards, but those cautious ones, out there at sea - out there, when looking westward nothing but the horizon, with dad's old side by side, the sun setting in late August...very soon their silhouettes would appear. Life was easy.

boha,

That is a magnificent picture.....

Don

Waterfalls. I can sit and watch one for hours

1977 on a ridge outside of Shell, WY and watching my brother kill his first elk and then about an hour later doing the same myself. Best hunt of my life.

Laying under a pine tree on the trail to Aliso Springs in Southern Arizona's Santa Cruz mountains with my wife. Taking a nap and letting the mule deer feed by while we slept (according to the 2 hunters who woke us up). My late wife had her 223 No.3 and I had my 243 No.1. Needless to say we did not kill a deer but surely had a nice nap in the afternoon sun on a bed of pine needles. What more can one ask for.

Sitting above the Torpe rivers watching the valley below.
Spring in the McGregors is magical!

Sitting by the campfire during elk season swapping lies with my hunting partner (we're both former military ) is certainly one of them. My all time favorite was an absolutely beautiful day in Juneau Alaska where my wife and I took a walk on the Mendenhall glacier. The weather was so good that the crew choppered us almost an hour to the far end of the glacier. I have got to do that again.

Ken....

Striking camp a few days before "opening day".
Remembering "opening days" past. Feeling my hunting partners anticipation and remembering partners that have passed onto the "happy hunting" grounds....knowing they are still in the hunt...with us....always and forever...

Late September,early Sunday mornings, driving with my father through farmlands,just east of Montreal,to our favorite small game hunting spots.We barely saw other hunters and it didn't bother anyone if we hunted on their land.It was full of game, and I was only a young teenager.Also,the many hours in the truck,driving while caribou hunting.

I like to remember the things I got into, in the 1960s, 1970s, 1980s, 1990s, etc.

I don't get to do much hunting, so this is going to be a little different than most of the others posted so far, but here goes.

The 200 yard line, Viale range, Camp Perry Ohio, 6 man team match day, getting ready to send the first shot down range. Nice gentle breeze coming in off Lake Erie, and 5 of the best civilian service rifle shooters in the country as your team mates.

Of course just about any day fishing, shooting, hunting, playing with guns, or riding a motorcycle gets honorable mention.

John

Nice thread ! AC roger

A beautiful cold (8 degrees) morning sitting on snap on tree stand in a South Carolina swamp. Watching nervously as my 12 year old son raised the shotgun on his first deer. Listening to the crack of the gun and seeing the smile on his face as the deer fell in its tracks. Thanking God for all His perfect gifts.
Doug

Zeke-

Speaking of watching waterfalls, you must have been to Salt Creek Falls just a very few miles SE (and uphill) from Oakridge, Oregon, right?

If not, you've got to go. Just 50 yards off Highway 58, and the Willamette River drops 183 feet straight down. You can walk right to the drop-off, but BE CAREFUL...no guardrails and mossy, slick, rocks at the top...

In November sitting under a tree in a post oak forest a day or two after a rain smelling the post oak leaves. There is no wind and it is late on a warm afternoon near a creek. As the sun gets low chilly air begins to flood down the creek.
Off in the distance you hear a crow or a coyote.
Suddenly you are 18 again and you have been there before.

quote:

Originally posted by DMB:
boha,

That is a magnificent picture.....

Don

Thanks Don. It's the actual place.

It strikes me that most places mentioned here are safe, old home-type of places, not more adventurous places like Africa - seems like the places of our childhood and youth made the deepest carvings into our souls.

Boha

Sitting on the edge of the N'goroN'goro crater when the sun comes up, watching the mist dissipate to reveal an African animal paradise.

This is my deer stalking country for Sambar, the red mark is the camp in the other photo, I've spent years hunting this area and still takes my breath away...

Im beginning to really like this spot.Its where I put my deer stand for the last few years

Crawling up a hill dragging a rifle, I'm really aware of how much noise I make, the air is filled with the smell of sage, cactus needles in my knee, getting to the top, sighting on an antelope, the image in the scope is yellow due to tall grass in front of it, lining up the shot, firing, the gun jumps.

The outfitter says, "You hit 'im- he'll go down."

The antelope does, about eighty yards later; the outfitter and I both turn ourselves around so were reclining, propped up on an elbow, looking the situation over, I thank him.

When we get to the antelope, the exit wound indicates that he was facing to my right when I shot him, but in my mind, for some reason, I could swear he was facing the other way.

Less than four minutes.

quote:

I like to remember the things I got into, in the 1960s, 1970s, 1980s, 1990s, etc.

ahhhh... "Green Slave Women".

Here is a little spot in the Rio Grande National forest that I like to remember.

Father's day this year, riding around the family property on the Polaris Ranger with my 2 year old son and my father with his new heart pump. I'm glad I'll have more chances to do that...

So many hard to say . A rifle a Rod friends and special places memories abound . So Many photos yet to be found .

Roger ; These were taken several years back when everyone was laughing at me for using a spinning rig . Tuna , Dorado , Sail Fish , and one pissed off White Tipped Shark !.

On the end of the rack that's a 73 lb. Bull Dorado . No one was laughing after my first Day .
The guides wanted to see the miracle of a Spinning Rig in action ,as none of them had ever seen anyone actually use one before .

Some of those fellas had plus 40 years on the water as Guides !. I couldn't buy a drink for the week I was there .

So I gave the skipper my custom Rod an Diawa reel . He had it hung it up in the Catina !. Still there as far as two years ago .

Hunting Season and Fishing Season fall on different schedules , thankfully .











Shoot Straight Know Your Target . ...

quote:

Originally posted by Dr.K:

Roger ; These were taken several years back when everyone was laughing at me for using a spinning rig .

Came out of the Rockies in 1970 and started salt water with nothing but light spinning gear. 8lb. test and Bonita to 15 lbs. Gradually shifted to conventional but still use 4 lb. spinning gear in Alaska for pinks and some silvers; Four weeks from now; Maybe a big ling or halibut or two. Is a double semi colon OK?

Were those photos from between Loretto and Cabo?See what you started AC? roger

Yes Roger ; Loreto in particular . Sharp Eye Roger !.

Been fishing all over the Baja since 66 , when I wasn't touring for Uncle Sam .

That particular trip was from Isla Coronado too Islal Monserrate also around Isla Carmen Punta Perico is where I nailed the big bull .

Monserrate is a Haul in a ponga , takes another ponga to carry enough fuel there and back from Loreto . We talked 4 ponga skippers into it and one fuel barge so to speak . Big Sail and Tuna out there !.

Other wise it's down to Bahia de Palmas for that sort of fun .

Now a little further North. Alaska looking for Moose hear Bears over the babbling brook !.



Shoot Straight Know Your Target . ...

Check this out a " Floater " further North !.

Took that picture off the bow of a Fishing seiner , My very good friend is the skipper of .

Nothing to actually give scale as it was open water .

I built enough custom homes to guess that center chunk above water was near 2600 Sq. Ft. house size !.

Thank My Uncle for Radar !. Yes He holds 21 co patents with the USN for the development of Radar started Back WW2 days .




Shoot Straight Know Your Target . ...

Actually it is a quote from Ross Seyfreid, but it always makes me think of a particular windmill.

The wind had gone down so that the windmill only creaked over occasionally and it was cooling slightly as the sun settled behind the hills. I was sitting in the towers shadow waiting for doves and smelling the dust of another Oklahoma sunset.

Never shot many dove at that well, but I hunted there a lot.

Actually Roger, giving credit where credit is due, Mr.McCray started it...

Another fellow (was it Dr. K?) made the comment about so many years, so many memories...boy ain't that the truth!

On windmills, they always remind me of when I lived in Saskatchewan where many of the wheat farms still didn't have public electricity. They generated their own with windmills and stored the electricity in huge banks of glass 12 volt liquid acid batteries all hooked in parallel. Naturally, it wasn't AC power, but DC, and everything in the homes from lights to fridges worked on 12 volt DC. Usually the water came from another windmill right close to the one for power. In addition to the storage tank at the top there was always an animal watering tank at the bottom too, which attracted all kinds of game from Doves to deer and antelope.

Then speaking of spinning rigs....I changed my religion to Steelhead Fisherman during the early 60's. (Fished 48 weekends and Christmas & New Years days in the 12 months from August '67 to August '68.) Liked to fish right where the many rivers and creeks of the Oregon coast poured directly into the ocean. Didn't always get steelhead out of those waters though. Got lots of Salmon, both Coho and Tyee. Also could get stripers, sharks, even sturgeon. (Got a 6'-6" sturgeon one time on a wet yarnie fly!!). Also fished the same rigs on both the Skeena and Copper rivers when I lived in the north.

Used to hunt by myself a LOT when I lived in the north. There are so many trees I've sat under overlooking valleys, canyons, rivers, creeks, lakes, etc. Just chok-a-bloc stuffed with primordial beauty (and the utter peace one finds sitting there in a warm parka with the temp -20 F or colder) that I hardly have enough "hooks" in my cloakroom of a head to hang all the memories on. Lots of them, even great ones, get tossed in the corner on the floor until someone posts here and reminds me to go rummage around through them.

Anyway, I love what you guys are posting. Too bad it doesn't mean a damned thing to all the anti-gunners. They can't fully appreciate it because they've never been there.

Down in a northern Minnesota Tamarack swamp on a quiet day in early November. It's unearthly quiet. You can't see far. You might run into a deer, a moose, a wolf...

An island on the upper St Croix in late August. Dawn. Mist on the water. Chilly as you stir the ashes of last night's fire to get the coffee going. Deer coming to drink and feed at the water's edge. Just enough nip in the air that you know moving the canoe through the water will feel good as the muscles warm and better when the smallmouth start hitting.

quote:

Originally posted by miles58:
better when the smallmouth start hitting.

You touched a nerve with the small mouth. Chidhood memory. Lake Erie, "40s",Over cast day maybe 68 degrees, Beaded chain swivel with molded on 1/2 oz. sinker and 18" leader,Conventioal knuckle buster, hadn't got those funny reels from France yet, soft shell crawdads for bait.

Drop down, hit bottom, reel up 5 turns and wait but not long if you're in the right place. Line starts to do a slow circle. When the line starts to move in a linear direction you set the #4 Eagle claw. Trouble was for every bass you caught you got three great lakes sheep head. Be nice to go back. roger

quote:

On windmills, they always remind me of when I lived in Saskatchewan where many of the wheat farms still didn't have public electricity. They generated their own with windmills and stored the electricity in huge banks of glass 12 volt liquid acid batteries all hooked in parallel. Naturally, it wasn't AC power, but DC, and everything in the homes from lights to fridges worked on 12 volt DC.

saw one of these last fall near Brusett, Montana; hadn't worked for years but still in good shape- like a lot of ruralities, when it wasn't needed anymore, it was just left to itself.

Top of the Colorado National Monument road, looking out across the Colorado, Gunnison rivers valley toward Grand Mesa. The Sun starts to come up; first a little sliver and than gradually into this emense spectacular firey orb. With a little imagination you can hear the drums and trumpets getting louder and louder. Breath taking is an under statement. It was a real WOW heart pounder. If I saw it today it would I,m sure impress me as it had 45 years ago. roger

Mid November, in a small hillside clear cut north of the backwoods town of Elk River Idaho. It is nearly dark, and there are only a few minutes of legal shooting time left. I am perched on a small rock outcropping that overlooks the diamond shaped opening. There is not a breath of wind and it is snowing softly. The lights of Elk River begin to glow a few miles down the valley while two whitetail does, a fawn and a small 4 point buck (western count) appear out of the ancient hemlocks on the edge of the clearing. It is so quiet that I can actually hear them breathing, though they are 75 yards away. While both does and bucks are legal game, I remain motionless and watch, gripping my old Model 70 Featherweight, as they fade into the growing darkness........

Chet

Chuckin with Pop. (cousin and BIL too)

Went to the McGregors last week. It was too hot for hunting but sure was nice to sit there and glass the hills!

quote:

Originally posted by Jim White:
1977 on a ridge outside of Shell, WY and watching my brother kill his first elk and then about an hour later doing the same myself. Best hunt of my life.

Mine too! And filling out on Mule Deer and Antelope didn't hurt either.
How about that big black cloud we saw that morning.

Stepchild