What drives a hunter?..... a text to a buddy..

Superbrad

Superbrad

CGN Ultra frequent flyer
Rating - 98.6%
140   2   0
Location
Glengarry Ontario
A buddy that works with me and I were discussing 2018 turkey season and making sure we both get time off to satisfy our turkey hunting needs during the upcoming season.... based on our positions within the company, it doesn’t seem we will be able to get the time off together, so ensuring we both get the time off we want will require cooperation..... what ensued was actually a great exchange about why we hunt and what we consider a “trophy” or a great memory...

There seems to be an influx of millennial hunters these days, which, while good for the sport, usually causes the usual “trophy hunting” debate...

Buddy and I were talking about what we would consider a trophy..... this is what I texted him back.... its not the be all and end all and it’s just one guy’s opinion, but here is what I texted him back.... sorry for the long read, I wanted to paste the actual text..


Yup..... we did “campsgiving” in October...... looks like we are doing a New Years bash at camp as well....... three days around a roaring wood stove swapping stories and hunting rabbit...... :)

The biggest trophy I ever shot in my life was my first actual hunting kill at 14 when dad was mentoring me.....

We were hunting upland and rabbits at the old cottage and walking along the “little stream trail”..... as you know, hunters have stupid non descriptive names for every trail and area or watch we hunt..... lol.....

We didn’t have much money, so all I had was a pair of coveralls, a crossing guards vest, an orange ball cap and a pair of the old fashioned kodiak steel toed boots...... my gun was a Cooey 84 single that, to this day sits at the door in dad’s garage..... (I need to wrestle that from him)..... and a beige box of old Canadian tire supreme shells that cost me two weeks allowance ....

I was on top of the ridge and dad was on the bottom near the stream.......

I had hunted with dad many hours and was allowed to hunt alone for many more and I can’t even tell you how many grouse and woodcock I missed..... hell, I missed a grouse on the ground..... lol

Anyways, a woodcock flushed near the stream and dad missed it with his Stoeger double (I mentioned we didn’t have much money, and this was a high end gun to dad)...... he actually got that gun because a guy at work was having money and family troubles and pawned it to dad .....(dad still has it, and I need to wrestle that one off of him too)...... it’s already willed to my oldest...

Anyways,after dad wiffed, the bird came my way and I folded it.....

What happened after will always stick with me..... I was in shock and dad was amazed, but there were no high fives or jumping around...... I calmly (while shaking) walked over and picked up the bird...... my dad took the time to explain to me that I had just taken a life and reiterated the importance of that and reaffirmed that we would eat it......

looking back now, a bacon roasted woodcock breast was little more than something that belongs on the end of a toothpick when split between four people..... but the family sure enjoyed it..... and loved the story as well.....

I owe a lot to dad, but he doesn’t hunt anymore...... he encourages my endeavours, questions me in regards to his version of “ethics”, like running dogs for deer, but he is pretty open to stuff.....

Would give my left nut to hunt with him again.....
 
This story hit me hard. My dad is getting up there and I don't know which day will be the last day I get to hunt with him, but it's coming fast. I took more time off work this season than I really should have to put in time with him, but wish I'd taken even more.

Thanks for sharing that.
 
Very nice story. Your story brings back very fond memories for me. I remember the first ever grouse that I got better than any other one.
My dad took me small game hunting quite often from a very young age. When I was about 12 (didn't even have my hunting license yet) and I spotted a ruffed grouse. Without saying a word dad handed me his Ithaca 300 and shook his head yes.
I remember I was so nervous I was shaking. I got the bird, and remember I was so proud, and Dad was even prouder. It is one of the best hunting memories I have. I now have that old Ithaca in my cabinet, and although it's not in the greatest condition, it is my most cherished gun. I've thought different times about having the chipped but stock and cracked forearm fixed or try to find replacements, but dad has always said "guns are meant to be used,not fixed all up so they're perfect, and sit in the cabinet or you're worried Everytime you walk through a bush about scratching it so I left it the way it is cause it still functions perfectly and that's what matters to me" so I've left it how it is, and take it out hunting regularly.
This is my best memory when it comes to hunting.My grandpa as well taught me alot. He unfortunately had stopped hunting before I was born. When grandpa was 89 years old he took a stroke and was in the hospital for months. Before deer season grandpa said "I really hope you get your first deer this year, because I would really like to be around when you get it"
On the Tuesday morning I got my first deer. A average sized doe, but was quite happy being my first deer. After field dressing and loading her into my truck, instead of heading back to camp with her, I went home and got cleaned up then headed to the hospital with my doe in the back of the truck to see Grandpa.
After telling Grandpa the story of my hunt, he was bound and bent I was going to wheel him out into the parking lot (he was unable to walk by this point) to see her. Although the nurses were upset with him, and very upset with me for taking him outside, their was no talking him out it.
After him seeing her he got very emotional and actually she'd a couple tears, which made me do the same. It was very surprising seeing him get like that, cause Grandpa was such a tough, strong old boy and I had never seen him cry.
It was such a great feeling for me him telling me how proud he was of me. Even after going back into hospital, he had to tell the nurses all about how his grandson got his first deer.
Unfortunately we got a phone call early Thursday morning that he taken a major heart attack and we needed to get to the hospital right away. By the time I got there, it was too late and Grandpa had passed away.
That was 19 years ago this past November. That memory still goes through my head every deer season when I'm sitting out on a stand by myself and still after all these years sometimes chokes me up. But I am so grateful that I was able to share that with my Grandpa before he was gone. I've shot lots of deer since, that were bigger and longer and better shots, but that will always, no matter what be the deer that I'm the most proud of.
Sorry for the long,drawn out post but after reading Brad's story it got me thinking and thought I would share my fondest hunting storys
 
Last edited:
mEIaMSR.jpg
 
I'm in the same boat, Brad... my father is elderly and ailing, his hunting days are behind him. This was the first fall that we did not share the field together and it was a little sad... he always gets excited when I visit and relate hunting stories and show him pictures, I can tell from his wistfulness, that he too wishes he was out in the woods again.
 
Enjoy the company of elders while you can. Many of mine have departed and I find myself reflecting on those days more often, with fond memories and as I get up there I know the day will come eventually for me as well.

I have passed the point of having to make the kill long ago, but happiness is a warm gut pile, right. Now simply watching a sunrise or set, or the critters going about their day uninterrupted brings just as much pleasure. Getting soft these days I guess LOL
 
my father was not a hunter
myself and my sister are the only two out of a family of 8 that hunt
where we get that drive from no one can say
I have 3 daughters and only my middle daughter hunts,
heck she owns more guns , and hunting equipment then most men own
but to go off into the bush, after Elk or moose, or even a grouse
is a special day to spend with my daughter
just to sit and watch a valley, or a clear cut
or a sun rise or sun set with her
we don't hardly speak a word,
its just a rewarding time
to be out there and to be enjoying what we really love to do
I'm getting to the point I cant hike far anymore so I mostly stand hunt
but I will go out just as long as my health will allow me to go
just to be there when she gets an animal
the look in her eyes tells it all
and yes I'm sure the look in mine tell it all
just how proud and happy I am to be able to spend time with my daughter
in the field
sometimes hunting isn't about hunting at all
 
Dad stories oh my so many to tell.

Enjoy all the time you can with them.
Mines dead now , and missed daily.
Unlike my older brother and sister I never knew my dad with two legs.
An industrial accident before I was born took that opportunity away

But .......we had a beef farm and he drove transport truck for C tire for 30 yrs.
Not bad for a guy missing a leg at the knee !

So he taught me to shoot ( he was a very good shot. Three tours in the Korean war can do that I guess )
and he marched enough miles on our farm with me shooting ground hogs to teach me the ropes and safety.

Then I was on my own.

He would have liked to stroll the bush hunting big game , but blisters on the stump we're reserved working not used up on pleasure.

So I fished more with Dad than hunted.

I wish I was half the man he was.

One of many things he taught us kids has served us well.

We were not allowed to use the word "can't"
You were scolded for that.
But you could use "how"

He always said " don't say can't....say how"

He knew too many amputees that could only say "I can't do ........ " whatever it was

What would our lives have been like if he always said "can't"

Sorry if I highjacked things here.

But he gave me the hunting start that I still go do.
 
Great story Brad. I didn't start hunting as a kid and only started after high school. My daughter is not a hunter, but accompanies me on hunting trips and these trips have become some of my best memories. In my trophy room there are lots of mementoes of trips around the world, but the photos of her and I out on a hunt are some of my favorites!
 
Never hunted with my father, he was not into hunting at all.
Where I got the "bug", I have no idea, but when I was a tad,
I used to cut pictures of guns out of the Eatons & Simpson-Sears
Catalogues....had stacks of those pictures, lol.

I miss my dad, even though he did not share my passion. He was
a great guy who encouraged me to be a decent person, and set a
sterling example himself.

Now I am getting to the point in life where I will eventually not be able to hunt, either.
I will continue until I cannot physically go any more. Hope it is still way off.
In the years, I have mentored 4 of my kids, and while not all hunt, they are all
pro-hunting/pro-shooting. I have a boatload of fond memories of time spent
with my kids and many others as well. Eagleye.
 
Superbrad said:
A buddy that works with me and I were discussing 2018 turkey season and making sure we both get time off to satisfy our turkey hunting needs during the upcoming season.... based on our positions within the company, it doesn’t seem we will be able to get the time off together, so ensuring we both get the time off we want will require cooperation..... what ensued was actually a great exchange about why we hunt and what we consider a “trophy” or a great memory...

There seems to be an influx of millennial hunters these days, which, while good for the sport, usually causes the usual “trophy hunting” debate...

Buddy and I were talking about what we would consider a trophy..... this is what I texted him back.... its not the be all and end all and it’s just one guy’s opinion, but here is what I texted him back.... sorry for the long read, I wanted to paste the actual text..


Yup..... we did “campsgiving” in October...... looks like we are doing a New Years bash at camp as well....... three days around a roaring wood stove swapping stories and hunting rabbit...... :)

The biggest trophy I ever shot in my life was my first actual hunting kill at 14 when dad was mentoring me.....

We were hunting upland and rabbits at the old cottage and walking along the “little stream trail”..... as you know, hunters have stupid non descriptive names for every trail and area or watch we hunt..... lol.....

We didn’t have much money, so all I had was a pair of coveralls, a crossing guards vest, an orange ball cap and a pair of the old fashioned kodiak steel toed boots...... my gun was a Cooey 84 single that, to this day sits at the door in dad’s garage..... (I need to wrestle that from him)..... and a beige box of old Canadian tire supreme shells that cost me two weeks allowance ....

I was on top of the ridge and dad was on the bottom near the stream.......

I had hunted with dad many hours and was allowed to hunt alone for many more and I can’t even tell you how many grouse and woodcock I missed..... hell, I missed a grouse on the ground..... lol

Anyways, a woodcock flushed near the stream and dad missed it with his Stoeger double (I mentioned we didn’t have much money, and this was a high end gun to dad)...... he actually got that gun because a guy at work was having money and family troubles and pawned it to dad .....(dad still has it, and I need to wrestle that one off of him too)...... it’s already willed to my oldest...

Anyways,after dad wiffed, the bird came my way and I folded it.....

What happened after will always stick with me..... I was in shock and dad was amazed, but there were no high fives or jumping around...... I calmly (while shaking) walked over and picked up the bird...... my dad took the time to explain to me that I had just taken a life and reiterated the importance of that and reaffirmed that we would eat it......

looking back now, a bacon roasted woodcock breast was little more than something that belongs on the end of a toothpick when split between four people..... but the family sure enjoyed it..... and loved the story as well.....

I owe a lot to dad, but he doesn’t hunt anymore...... he encourages my endeavours, questions me in regards to his version of “ethics”, like running dogs for deer, but he is pretty open to stuff.....

Would give my left nut to hunt with him again.....
Click to expand...

I enjoyed that read..... sadly my dad never came hunting tho i used his rifle all these years and dropped the invite a few times. Would be awesome if someone in my family joined me hunting..... probably holding my breath for a long time waitin on that one.....
 
Wow, this one got me right in the feels! My Grandfather was a hunter but passed when I was nine and had long been done hunting, my Father had done his share of hunting as a teen, but by the time I came along felt he couldn't take the time to hunt, being self employed there is no vacation time. I hunted in my teens and early twenties but life kinda got in the way raising young children and all. A few years ago I took my teen daughter, her boyfriend and my then ten year old twin boys out in the backyard plinking with the .22 and that resparked my desire to hunt. My girls were old enough (busy with boys) that they were fine with shooting but not interested in hunting, my boys however enjoy hunting with dad. It is a true joy to teach them what I know and learn along with them.
My dad gave me my Grandfather's 1924 or 25 M98 Mauser in 9X57 which compelled me to start reloading since ammo was unobtanium. This lead to me bagging my first bear this spring with my grandfather's rifle, the first game I shot with my own reloads, and the only time my wife came out with me to the blind (she now says she's my good luck charm).
My son Bailey bought a sporter .303 this summer and got his first bear this fall, and the same week a partridge with his grandfather's (my wife's dad) old Iver Johnson Champion 16 GA. single. I know both my Grandpa and his were smiling down on us from heaven those days.
I myself don't have hunting memories with my ancestors (I have other ones though for sure, and feel the hunting connection) but I sure do with my boys, and I hope they will look back fondly too.
 
patriot1 said:
Man, why does going out and filling a freezer need to become some feelings bromance stuff, geez.

Yeah, that settles it. I'm always gonna hunt alone.
Click to expand...

Sorry to hear you never had good experiences with your father, even if filling the freezer is your first priority.....

I do understand somewhat, in that one thing dad got me addicted to was chainsaws and bucking wood.... of course, the trees always have to cooperate...... perhaps you should focus on organic farming as opposed to hunting, the success rate is much higher..... especially for those opposed to outside advice....


I told a young lad that I was mentoring at camp, who missed two deer and was getting angry the following “the day hunting becomes work, is the day you should hang it up”...... he took his first under my guidance two days later..... very rewarding....


As for the rest of you, I truly appreciate the comments and stories.... to be honest, I had just completed my first responders course renewal and it got me thinking about dad and the older guys at camp and what they have given me .... (I may also have had a few jugs in me because of it)......

Some true gentleman and focused hunters that recognize the importance of heritage and tradition here....
 
You must log in or register to reply here.
Back
Top Bottom