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Who taught you to hunt?

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No one else in my family are really big into hunting, so I learned a lot by reading magazines & books, then going out into the field & sorting out what did & did not work for me on my own. I also got a lot of good advice early on from the late Van Clark, former owner of Prescott Valley Archery.

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My dad taught me how to hunt(and fish). He taught me how to deer hunt as well as small game. He always had time to take me hunting. We spent a lot of time in the Wisconsin northwoods. My love of hunting and the outdoors in general grew from there

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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.

 

Wow, I just read this aloud to myself and I hear my own words - those of a bitter young man, now maybe a bitter older man. Fathers, mothers, brothers, sisters, uncles, aunts and cousins - take the time to find out what the younger people in your life are doing, what they are interested in and find a way to be a part of it.

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+1 Coach.

 

Growing up I thought my dad loved hunting as much as I did. Turns out he just loved me.

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Apparently nobody, CAUSE I SUCK AT IT!

 

 

I once read a book on building roadracing motorcycles where the author dropped this little pearl: "If an engine builder stands head & shoulders above the competition, it's because he's standing on a pile of broken parts."

 

That quote has always stuck with me, as I've found it applies to almost every area of life. You gotta spook a few deer & you gotta blow up a couple engines before you really figure out what you're doing.

 

In my case, I've only built a couple engines & have yet to blow one up, but I spooked hundreds of deer for 15 years or more of bowhiking before I finally figured out how to get within bow range & seal the deal.

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My father taught me to hunt and love the outdoors. We mostly hunted dove, deer, and elk. I don't think he was taught well, therefore I don't think I am all that good of a hunter, but I get outside and I love it. I will teach my son too if he wants too. Some of my best memories and times when I was a kid was when we were hunting.

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I have to thank my dad for always taking me out since I was very very young. Like others have said back then we would not scout just go looking around. No glassing from tripods, no dialing turrets (just hold over shots). Since I had started getting into Coues hunting hard core everything else followed Elk, Predator, Turkey have now all become an addiction. I can not go a week without going out to harvest or look for some critter and who is still with me on 95% of my trips my dad and now I have been taking my son out for 4 years now. My son is 7 now and really getting into hunting so I am wanting to teach him what I can in the time I can.

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My dad/older brother taught me everything I know about hunting, although we always teased my dad when he shared his knowledge about hunting or tricks of the trade. Then we tried them out an lo and behold what do you know, Dad actually does know something :) haha

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My family was raised on venison, quail, rabbit and squirrel. I was probably 5 or 6 when I was turned loose with a slingshot and told what I could and couldn't shoot. A year later I had a 40# recurve that my uncle had nearly worn out and a pellet gun.

 

By age 10, I was spending a third of the year living with my grandparents on a remote ranch in sw NM. I had a .22 over 20 ga, Savage and 78,000 acres to hunt on. I supplied our dinner table with meat as well as the dinner plates of the many Hispanic migrants on foot that would stop at the ranch looking for work. They were tired from walking and they ate what we ate and they were never sent on their way hungry or thirsty.

 

I have to credit my father and grandfather with teaching me the essentials of hunting and marksmanship, And my dad for making me understand how patience and just being still is rewarding.

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A buddy took me dove hunting for the first time 8 years ago and since then I have collected more than a fair supply of guns, and have taught all four of my kids(and my wife) to shoot. My youngest son is a deadeye dove/quail hunter and can usually get his limit with only a shell or two used without connecting. He has his first cow elk tag for this Friday and I'm super excited to spend more time with him in the woods. Hunting time=family time (as long as they're quiet). My wife and I also have tags, but he gets the first shot (unless we see two, then he and Mama can shoot together)

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My Dad got me into hunting at a very early age. A single shot .22 passed down from my Great-Grandmother was used to take lizards at first, then onto rabbits and squirrels. Another passed down gun from Great-Grandma Bill (I never knew her real name), was a single shot .410 shotgun. Sucker had a hammer I had to wear gloves to cock. I was not allowed to go hunting with it until I could cock it on my own. And I was never allowed to carry it loaded, so it made quail hunting interesting. It also made me a way better shot. Doves came next. Again, that .410 made me a pretty good shot. I also shot archery a lot as a kid. My Dad taught Parks and Rec. during the summers, and archery was on the weekly classes he taught. I used to go with him every week for that class, plus often to just hang out.

 

When I turned 14, my Dad bought me a Mossberg 500 20ga. I started hunting quail and doves a LOT then. It also made me lose some of my shooting skills knowing I had 3 rounds in the gun. My Dad used to bet me on birds vs. shots after that, I and got a lot of the skills back. I still, to this day, strive for a 90+% ratio.

 

Also, at 14, my Dad borrowed a .270 Win from his friend, and took his trusty .30-06 M1917 Enfield service rifle (he shot competitively at Douglas HS & ASU back in the day), and we went on my first ever deer hunt. We did not get anything, but I was hooked. I also got my first used compound bow that year. An OLD Bear. I took my first big game animal the next year at 15. A turkey roosting in a tree.

 

I never realized until about 10 years ago, when I was 33, that my Dad had actually never taken a big game animal. Tons of small game, but nothing big. He had been taking me hunting for about 27 years, and 19 for big game, and always was carrying either a bow or rifle, and never took a shot. Always letting me do the hunting. 10 years ago, we drew a 12AE rifle tag together, and he shot his first, and last deer ever. A very small forkie. My Mom is not into game meat, so I got it all. He spent the rest of the hunt with me, and we had a blast even though I did not take a deer that year. On the hunt, I found a stone arrowhead, and my Dad was in awe. I made a shadow box with backlighting, and gave it to my parents that Christmas. I have only seen my Dad cry 3 times that I can remember. When my Grandparents died, and that Christmas.

 

He taught me woodsmanship, tracking, ethics, survival, geology, botany, conservation, etc. Things I use almost everyday either at work or play. I could never repay him for all the time he has spent, and important things he has taught me. I try my hardest to pass the information on to my children.

 

I have hunted big game mostly solo other than the times with my Dad. My brother has always been into small game and bird hunting, but after this past fall with my daughter taking her first elk and him being with us, he wants to put in for deer with me next year. I will be happy to help him take his first deer if we get drawn. I have learned most of the more recent stuff over the past 20 years by trial and lots of error, and reading just about everything I could get my hands on.

 

My Dad is a great man, and I am thankful I still get to see him every week. I hope my kids look back on me when they grow up and think the same about me. I have some big shoes to fill.

 

Thanks Dad.

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