Watching old friends grow old, and fade

[tripod1]

Ah yes, my hunting buddy and mentor passed away a few years back. He was definetly of the old school. The pleasure was rabbit and grouse we walked parallel up and down the woods hoping to see a rabbit or grouse. Dad never shot a grouse on the wing for some reason he would always see it struting along the ground. Later when his legs were giving out I introduced him to duck hunting. Then the cold started to get to him so the blinds were build out of plywood and propane heaters put in. You could see it in his eyes that he was there for me but his true passion was rabbit and grouse.

I will miss my mentor, everytime a grouse flushes I always wonder if dad would have bagged it before I even got to see it yet alone get a shot at it.

I now have passed that knowledge on to his grandson who hold dear to his heart the old SxS that was once dads. He has had offers from people to purchase it and has refuesed every one of them. His way of thinking is if it wasn't for dad he probably won't be enjoying the hunting adventures and comodery of the group.

 

[cdngunner]

Sad isn't it

Gustaff, watched all his friends disappear. He is the only one left from "his" hunting group. He joined us for the last 5 or so years but was not able to come out this year because of double hip replacement. I miss all the old coggers and their tall tales. There arent to many Red Fisher types left.

Here he is with us last year. Third from the left. I hear he has pretty well givin up hunting. I keep telling his son that we will build a cadilac blind for him so that he can drive his atv right in. We'll see. It wasn't the same without him this year.

 

[burroak]

Thank you all for the shared memories and the perspectives. I really like the idea of a photo album and storybook for deer camp. It wouldn't be the same as having the original storytellers there, but it's a memory keeper.
I hadn't realized until reading this that I'm now the old codger in our camp, by a year, and I had not counted how many have gone before. I've felt the responsibility of keeping it going recently, sometimes when there's been so many other things pressing. It's been one of those low level anxiety kinds of things, but now I can give it a name. My oldest son (15) has come along the last two years, and my nephew this year... I think they're hooked now. My youngest (9) and one of his friends came once and they want to come back, but I think they want to slide down the snow drifts that hang over the valley as much as hunt. I would love to be able to persuade my daughter (18) to come. I have tried. Too much like her mother...