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  1. #1
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    Lightbulb The importance of taking kids hunting

    I wrote this blog about one my experiences growing up outside. A buddy of mine is getting into outdoor media so I started this blog for his facebook page. (FYI..I do not get paid for this, it is PURE entertainment).

    http://swampcitymedia.blogspot.com/2...uns-oh-my.html

    Do any of you have a outdoor moment as a young person (young as in new to hunting, regardless of age) that stands out, one that you think shaped you into the outdoorsmen/women you are today?

    I do and it is the one I wrote about, basically my granddad and uncle took me stripe fishing and I literally froze. But it was a blast (artic blast I guess!!!) and I still remember it like it was yesterday, though it was well over 2 decades ago.

  2. #2
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    Good read, AT Hiker.


    My first memory was a squirrel hunt with my dad at the age 5 with a Mossberg 410. We still hunting through the hardwood river bottom with me stepping exactly where he stepped to avoid snakes. (Now I understand the second person through is the one that usually gets bit.....thanks dad!) That day it was windy and it was kind of hard to find the squirrels in the trees, but we managed to walk up on several herds of deer feeding on acorns on the edge of sloughs. I killed my first squirrel that day and I was pumped. From that day on, I was not going to get left at home again when I could be in the woods! Threatening to leave me at home during any open season was enough to make me stay out of trouble and keep my grades up in school.

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  4. #3
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    I would have to say just pulling the camper deep into the deep woods of Michigan's up north and staying in that with my grandpa, 3 uncles, dad, and myself. The stories around the camp fire and the experiences that they talked about. The other thing was the people that hunted around us being great acquaintances, with there great stories and how amazingly generous and helpful fellow hunters can be. I remember when i was 15 me and my dad went up for the first week of the hunt a lone cause everyone else had to work. Well we hunted for the day and came into see someone had parked in the field we were camping in. When they came in they stopped by and started talking to us and after about an hour they were like well we have a cabin near here if you want to come over for dinner so you don't have to cook and wait for the fire. For the rest of the week we hung out with them and ended up helping them drag in a deer and get it hung at there cabin for processing. Needless to say that experience of random kindess had a major influence on my future hunting experiences.

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    I was lucky enough to draw a moose tag when I was 16 in my home state of Wyoming. My dad let me take off a week of school, it was just me and him. I was into classic rock at the time and had made a mix tape to listen to in the truck. Every time I hear one of the songs on the radio, it takes me back.

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    Very cool read. Love Those's times with the kids now and me as a kid with my dad and uncle.
    I don't Break the rules, I Modify them.

  7. #6
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    Cool stories guys! It is amazing what the slightest thing can happen or do to strike a memory from long ago. It is also neat to think about it now and look back, because at the time I had no idea how important those moments were.

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    Everytime I hear old Alabama songs I'm reminded of hunting with my dad. He was a rough one to hang with, we spent many nights sleeping in the cab of the truck, especially when he ran hounds. I recall one night on an elk hunt when the tent and sleeping bags got soaked. My 2 older brothers, dad and I all slept in the cab of his 58 Chevy truck with bucket seats, that was a rough night, good times though! I could tell stories all day long about hunting with pops, thanks dad

    Now days I take my step daugthers, we don't have to sleep in the truck, they like the travel trailer. I tell them they are spoiled

  9. #8
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    Lots of kid memories but my two best center around bears.

    My first big game animal was a black bear when I was fourteen and growing up in da U.P. The first morning it was pretty obvious that Dad and I didn't build the brush blind big enough for two people as we were sandwiched in there so tight neither my Dad or I could move. So, Dad waited for it to get light and snuck out the 1/4 mile to the rig where he proceeded to sit from dark to dark listening to the radio, reading, and waiting for me to kill a bear... this took three days! I cannot imagine how bored he must have been sitting there day upon day waiting to hear me shoot! The sacrifice he made ultimately paid off as I was able to kill a great bear on the third long day.

    The second bear story comes from Wyoming and my first year teaching. One of my students expressed his desire to go bear hunting as he had never been. In fact, he had never even seen a bear! So I told him that with his parent's permission I'd take him hunting in the spring. His parents gave us the nod and when school let out the first week of June we headed for the Bighorns with enough gear for a week of hunting. Long story short we spent a lot of time hiking and glassing for bruins with our best day being the first one in which we spotted five bears and had a very close encounter with a young sow and cubs. The week progressed and the weather deteriorated each day seemingly making the bears disappear. This young man had very insufficient gear and no rain gear so each evening we built a roaring fire to dry out our (his) gear. Needless to say we had a blast and saw so many animals (deer, elk, moose, coyotes, grouse, etc.) that we were astounded. However, the hunt grew more difficult each day with the bad weather and after a week of getting soaked to the bone and taking turns wearing my only rain gear it all came to a head. Sitting on a high ridge under a small wind blasted pine glassing for bears while being pummeled with a wintry mix of rain and snow and wind with six days of frustration on blown stalks and weather sapped spirits I turned to my young student and noticed him shivering while trying to glass as the rain and snow trickled down his sleeves and under his collar down the middle of his back. He was stoically toughing it out but obviously miserable. I asked, "Joe, what do you want to do?" He lowered his head in defeat and said, "Coach, I wanna go home." "You sure, we still have two more days and this weather is supposed to break, I'd hate to have you go home without a bear." I replied. He said, "this has been the best hunt of my life, I don't care if I get a bear." Needless to say we packed up and drove the three hours home.

    Joe still comes to "hunt" bears with me each spring even though I've moved halfway across the state. He has also turned into a fine young man and a quite accomplished hunter. I smile every time I think back to that character building trip into the Bighorns where a man and a boy, a teacher and a student built a lifetime bond around the noble passion of hunting.

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