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naturegirl

Who taught you to hunt?

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Donald Ray Carr Sr. was my very 1st hunting and fishing teacher...Dad remained my closest hunting partner right up to his passing on October 9, 1995...our family lore has my Dad being taught how to hunt by his father as they chased squirrels around the West Virginia hills of his youth…probably my earliest hunting memory (circa 1965) is of following Dad around the snow spattered corn and soy bean fields of our Illinois farm as he hunted Pheasants...to this day the smell of shot shell empties brings back vivid memories of Dad’s pan fried Pheasant and freshly fired paper 12 gauge hulls...Dad's preference was bird hunting and until our 1969 move to southern Arizona I can only remember an occasional deer on the dinner table....in short order we swapped Ducks, Geese and Pheasants for Quail and Doves...man oh man, during the early to mid 1970's no kid could have had it any sweeter than I did as we Quail hunted off the Willow Springs Ranch Road and Dove hunted along the Santa Cruz River...I still have to shake my head in amazement at those enormous Quail coveys and the seemingly never ending flights of Doves...during this time we also left a lot of boot leather all over the Catalina, Santa Rita and Tortolita mountain ranges while "hunting" Javelina and Deer...old habits die hard and so it took several years of ground pounding until Dad finally conceded that glassing up game was much better than herding it...I was lucky enough to have had my Dad’s help in starting my two boys down the Hunter’s path…I doubt they know it, but I fairly often see Dad’s mannerisms shine through them…sometimes it’s how they always take time to set up a solid camp before heading out on the trail…other times it’s when they hand out a spare something or rather and laughingly tell someone “ remember it’s better to have and not need, than need and not have”…that was one of Dad’s most used quotes which was reportedly hard learned during the Korean war…so there you have it, the long and the short story of who set me to the hunting path and instilled me with a sense of appreciation for all things having to do with the “out of doors”…

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My dad not only taught me and my two brothers how to hunt, where to hunt, and with what weapon, but he taught us to conduct ourselves with the utmost dignity and respect for the land and the animal we hunted. He also taught hundreds adults and kids Hunter Safety here in Tucson. I can remember sitting in on the classes when I wasn't old enough to attend cause my mom also taught the classes. The instructors would look to me when the others didn't have the answers, "it always pissed off the older kids when a five year old knew the answer."
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Even though he doesn't get out to chase Coues Deer all that much anymore he still hunts Quail and Dove. He is always the person that knows where I am out in the field and he is the first call when I hit what I am chasing. He still gives advise and I still hear the excitement in his voice when the call is to tell him I was successful.

My oldest brother taught me what a rush you get from hunting with a bow. He showed me how to look at the land and come-up with a tactical plan of attack to get close enough to take that buck. He took me everywhere and for that I will always be grateful. Hunting for me is not about the kill, it's about getting out there with family and friends and just having a good time and seeing nature at work, but honestly there is nothing like being behind my brother and watching him take a big game animal with his bow, watching the arrow like a missile penetrate the chest.

My best memory is of the 2009 rifle hunt of my dads when my brother and I put aside our differences and helped my dad take a good buck.
THANK YOU BOTH FOR THE TIME AND ATTENTION YOU SELFLESSLY GAVE TO ME!

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I have been fortunate and blessed in this life. I have had the fortunate circumstances to be mentored by several men in my life that took the time to teach this snot nosed kid the ways of the woods.

1st my grandfather, god bless his soul. This man taught me honor and responsibility not only in life but in the outdoors. 2nd my father who handed down and reinforced those lessons. My uncle Dennis Ratliff who is my dads best friend and my relative and part of my family as anyone is. He gave me my first shotgun at 12 and I still carry the knife he gave me at ten, on my belt on every hunt I hunt or every hunt I now guide.

I began walking behind these men from the age of 4 or five. I know I was a pain in the butt and made more noise than a pack of buffalo but they endured me and taught me to respect the earth and the animals we harvested.

I cannot than them enough I only hope I can be the mentor to my children my son and my step son and to others I take into the field, that these men were to me .

God bless them all and I thank you for their presence in my life.

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The desire to hunt was inside me from a very early age. I would hunt everything from frogs to sparrows with my trusty BB gun.

 

Though my dad is the one who took me hunting and fishing. He didn't really teach me much about the game we pursued or how to do it. As I grew older I have to admit the small amount of skill I have was either self taught or gleened from my hunting buddies. To this day my dad still doesnt understand why I waste my time and money archery hunting or applying for bull tags. Even still thanks dad for taking me.

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I went on Midwest rabbit and pheasant hunts with my Dad and was hooked on everything about the sport by age 8!

Dad sure planted the hunting seed and I made it grow! Thank you!

 

As for Coues deer hunting, all the credit goes to Rich "Stretch" Wells. Rest In Peace my friend. Every Coues is for you!

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Basically, it was both my dad and grandfather. I can still remember when I was like 5 years old and they would take me hunting. Although they didn't necessarily gave me a gun, I guess, going with them and seeing how they hunt instilled that desire to hunt on my own when I grow older. And that is exactly what happened. Thanks guys!

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I have had the desire to hunt as long as I can remember, even though my Dad never did much hunting before my brother and I got old enough to tag along. He was with me for every animal I took until I left for college and killed my first Idaho forky all by myself in 2007. He hasn't been with me for a single one since. Although early cow hunts with dad were the first hunts we ever went on, I would say that I really started to learn how to hunt when I drew my first whitetail tags as a senior in high school. My sisters husband at the time is a member on here and an excellent coues hunter. Spending those december days with him behind a tripod and pair of 15's was where i would say I really began my education in how to really hunt. After they seperated I sort of had to go back to self educating myself, luckily I had a great buddy to do it with and we had a solid foundation. I owe both my dad and former bro in law a big thanks for all they taught me, he was a lousy husband but a pretty good friend and a really good hunter.

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Mom got me up and loaded me into grandpa's '49 GMC on a monday morning in 1965. She still had a deer tag in her pocket and nobody else to go hunting with that October morning in Skull Valley, Arizona. Dad had to go back to work on Vulcan guns at Luke Field and grandpa Markham had Santa Fe track to supervise from Congress to Iron Springs on the spur line. So she took me down to a siding south of the Skull Valley stationhouse and we walked the morning away-that woman wanted some venison for the winter! Bagged a bunch of muley sheds and mom got a shot at a fox with dad's 1953 Winchester model 70-open sighted of course! Grandma and grandpa's Santa Fe house is now the home thats been moved to the Skull Valley Railroad Museum. Yea I still carry that model 70.

 

1972 I was a snot nose kid selling waterdogs and ammunition at Jim's Bait on Apache Trail out east of Mesa. In walks a short cowboy feller name of Mike Pock. Thats when I started to learn about huntin' being more important than eatin' or sleepin'! Thank you sir! RIP.

 

lee

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As a kid, I grew up hunting birds, rabbits, squirrels - all with a pellet gun. I was constantly turning over rocks and logs catching whatever snake I could. My dad grew up hunting too, but for whatever reason, he gave up hunting, art, photography, backpacking about the time I was born, as best I can figure.

 

It's still a mystery to me, why he just lost interest, about the time i was getting the bug. I joined the boy scouts, hunted every creature in the NE Oklahoma woods, learned to sein minnows, fish, bowfish carp and gar - but I always felt I was doing it all on my own.

 

When I wanted to be a pitcher, my dad put up a net in the yard and tied a t-shirt in the middle. "When you can hit the shirt every time, you're a pitcher", he told me.

 

When deer season approached, I would touch every round of reloaded 30/30 ammo. At best I would sit an old treestand. Usually, my contribution to the Thanksgiving or Christmas dinner was a few rabbits and squirrels. Maybe a duck.

 

Around college age, my dad bought me my first compound bow. It was an out-dated PSE but it was all I had. I shot that bow every day with a finger tab and Easton 1117 arrows. My first pair of binoculars were Nikon 10x24 pocket binos, again provided by my dad.

 

I hunted and hunted, and did what I thought then was glassing. Every spare moment in between classes at U of A, I was doing everything I could to learn about hunting. I'd sneak off and hunt the hlls around Tucson with my crappy bow, crappy binocs and absolutely no idea what I was doing.

 

One Saturday morning around Redington pass, with papers to write, tests coming up, I find myself on my first real deer hunt. I didn't get anywhere close to them - I still remember the lead doe catching my scent and ushering 4 or 5 other does and a scraggly 3 point deer out of the area.

 

From then, I tried over and over to get within bow range of a javalina or deer.

 

It seems like it took forever but one day I took my first ever javi with my crappy bow. Not long after I took my first coues with my dad's rifle. I can remember vividly turning off the music, really getting serious, driving into my area and started the process of getting into the hunt.

 

I would love to credit my love for hunting to my dad, but I can't. My love of hunting came from my desire to learn on my own.

 

20 years later, the only hunts I really care about are my sons' huhts. When I have a tag, I am 100% solo unless one of my boys are there wth me. Well, that 's not totally accuate, the last coues buck I got was a hike-in hunt, and had Greg Lewis not been there it would not have happened. Greg spotted ths buck and walked me right to him.

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I had the desire to live the outdoor life from the time I could read...my dad was'nt a hunter and my 2 older brothers were married and gone by the time I could hunt. I spent every available moment running around the desert around Tucson chasing anything I could find. I remember standing in a friends yard on Pima st. and looking up on Mt. Lemmon and vowing to have a cabin up there with a pack of hounds. I was about 8-9 yrs old. I have had several packs of hounds, but still no cabin on the mountain! I guess my hunting education came mostly from reading evry book on the subject that I could get my hands on. Thank God for a love for reading!

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My dad taught me to hunt it seems like he knows where deer will be even after he will say havent been up there for 30 years or so but if you go up to this peak there will be 4 ridges go to the last one and there is a pocket in that pocket there will be a buck in there. More times then not there is. I just sit back and learn. Also my kids because they have taught me to slow down and take my time.

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I belive I had the best teachers for hunting. I still have and had (find them bulls Papaw) some of the best hunters anyone could ever learn from.

 

For one, my dad, I can remember going out quail hunting,and lizards too (lizards feared me), he would start to get ahead of me and then stop to tell me they were "right over there", and "slip up on them", and give me the first shot with my pellet gun. My uncles and my dad's cousins would get a kick out of my "stealth mode", and I remember this from when I was little, probably around 4 years old.

 

My uncle would tell me stories about when all of them were younger and chasing deer, I can remember my face and belly hurting from laughing so hard from those stories. I still get a little smile on my face every time I think about the stories.

 

I remember all of them saying to be patient on my first deer hunt, when my little brother already tagged his first deer on the first day. I hunted hard and finally got it done on a sporky the last afternoon.

 

My grandfather (papaw) tought me a ton too. To never give up on a hunt and how to determine a buck from a does tracks on a dirt tank. He also showed me how to keep a positive mood no matter what happened on a hunting trip.

 

From what I was taught from my many mentors, it isnt about the kill, but the experience. If nobody gets hurt, it is a successfull trip. Its about a passion to just be there in the moment. The kill is just a bonus. Some of my most successful trips were ones that no one tagged, or even fired a shot, or even left camp because of weather.

 

I believe from what I was taught was that hunting is about the memories you make with the people you love. I still remember the sunset that everyone stopped for when we were quail hunting, it was overcast all day and while we were cleaning quail there was a break in the clouds, it lit up the sky to the west and everyone stopped to admire it. It makes me really appreciate that I could see it with the company I kept.

 

I am teaching my own kids how to hunt now, and I hope I can instill in them what my mentors did in me. Best part is that I have help. My dad was there on my daughters first deer hunt. It wouldnt have been the same without all three of us there. We have something together that can never be taken away.

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In my case, it was my grandfather...(my mother's dad) My father was an alcolholic and my parents spilt up when I was young and I wound up living with my grandparents for a few years. Grandpa was big hunter, though mostly with shotgun, uplands (quail) and rabbits...some squirrel with .22 and deer with a NRA Springfield...but he tapered it off as I got a bit older, though he bought me my first 'high powered' rifle, a Lee-Enfield which I eventually sporterized and kept until some a**hole got into my house during my marriage and decided he deserved it more than I did, (also Grandpa's L.C. Smith 16 ga, his Browning Auto-5 12 and the Springfield I mentioned earlier)

 

Since then, I have hunted with Savage Steven 311 12ga double, my Ruger M-77 .270 with Leupold 1.5-5x scope and a bow I got from Herter's decades ago...

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Unfortunately my Father didn't do much hunting while I was growing up, but I had friends all growing up that would hunt with their Fathers. I was always interested and always had a bb gun I would shoot birds with in the backyard. Finally at age 23 I went on a hunt to help my uncle, dad, and brother on their first hunt. The very next year, 2010, I was drawn for my first tag in unit 7 for mule deer. I was fortunate enough to harvest a small forky, which was pure luck. Ever since then I have been a man on a mission to learn everything I can about hunting.

 

I've taught myself most of what I've learned. I also learned how to glass from Duwane Adams, who is an awesome guide and an awesome man. He's always there for me to call and get pointers and bounce ideas off of. I would highly recommend taking his glassing class if you have the chance.

 

I learn more and more about hunting and techniques every year, and feel as though this community is also a great source for learning and insight. I'm just starting to feel like I'm at the point where I know what I'm doing and feel confident in my abilities to glass, stalk, and analyze areas. I can't wait to see what the future holds and what more I can learn about hunting!

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