Can you remember where it all started

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INKWE

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Can you remember where your love for hunting started?

Just cleaning my Dads office the other day and come upon this photograph that was taken of him when he was still working for Musgrave.

Then I remember my first hunt and then I remember when I got my first rifle......
 

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Shooting, when I got my first Daisy Red Rider at age 6. I still remember my first shooting lessons by my grandpa and uncle. Hunting, probably when I shot my first rabbit with my Benjamin .22 air rifle about age 7 or 8. I was hooked. I taught myself on small game, squirrel and rabbit, trial and error and many, many hours in the woods on my own from age 7 through highschool. I taught myself how to hunt waterfowl, a subject I immersed myself in through reading and study and then practice, including calling and such arts.

My uncle and grandpa took me dove hunting and deer hunting, but I learned small game hunting on my own and I took on waterfowling with a vengeance at age 14. I had no mentors other than books and writings on the subject. Funny, I've never been THAT avid a deer hunter, but small game and especially waterfowl have been my passions through life. I was very close to my grandpa, but he got old and quit hunting about the time I took on waterfowl. He still loved to fish and I spent many hours with him fishing. But, he and my uncle sparked my interest in hunting in general, the deer camp, the days in the field during dove season. I do still hunt doves and deer, doves are still a bit of a passion as i look forward to opening day every year. But, I just don't get into deer that big. Too much sitting and watching, not enough shooting, LOL. Bird hunting has more action and since you're moving, even if you're butt deep in water, you aren't as cold.

My mom and dad divorced before I was 3 years of age and he wasn't a sportsman type, anyway. He had his music, jazz musician, but did teach me sailing which was a passion of his. I've owned one sail boat in all those years, long gone, but would like another. Might be actually useful as gasoline gets expensive. The outboard isn't exactly efficient with gasoline, LOL.
 
Started shooting at 6 but my dad had an employe that started to take me hunting with one of his kids. My first time was at 13 and that first trip did it. That guy made the outdoor life come alive, hunting, fishing or just camping almost ever weekend. One of my prerequisties for a wife was that she had to love camping ,hunting and fishing.
 
My Dad bought me a crossman air rifle when I was 6 or 7 and it has been all downhill from there. We bordered public land, and he would let me shoot dove and quail during their seasons, and what is more I was only allowed to shoot male quail which taught me to identify my target and make sure I knew what I was shooting at. Also I learned how to clean birds and I bagged a few rabbits too. I was hooked from the start and to this day hunting and being outdoors with the animals in general is my favorite thing to do.
 
On a cold, drizzly October weekend, a seven year old boy hunches down between a pile of firewood and the back yard fence, trying to keep warm. His air rifle pumped and loaded; ready for the first bird to make the mistake of flying into this yard.


Where it all started, I don't remember. But I do remember that October day pretty well.

P.S.
That's an awesome picture!!
 
It is great to know that we all started on a young age.

Love your guys stories, is the youngsters keen to learn the way of the outdoor life or do they want to play computer games and watch movies?

My little boy is 1 years old now and I just bought him a BB gun, the lever action with the Cowboy on a Horse painted on it. I know he would not be able to work it now but give him two more years, then he should at least know how to pull the trigger.
 
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At the age of 18 I was the proud owner of an AR7, 870 police riot 12ga and a 410 snake charmer. A guy started working for my dad that was a hunter and could not believe I had these firearms and did not hunt. He started me in the desert chasing lizards and quickly moved to rabbits. Hard to believe that was over 30 years ago and I am still looking forward to this weekend and a trip to the desert to hunt some cottontail.

Time does truely fly when you are having fun
 
I started shooting when I was 12 and got my first BBgun. I got my first "real" gun when I was 18. I don't know why I asked for it, but I managed to convince santa that I needed a shotgun. LOL He brought me a Mossberg 500 12ga with a 28" barrel. I still have this gun although it looks drastically different. Countless small animals, clays, and even an old truck were terminated. The finish started coming off, so it got a paint job and a synthetic stock set.
I don't remember how I started hunting. I grew up hearing stories from my dad and grandparents and I had several friends that were active hunters in high school. I think I got drug along on a deer hunt. I know I had to borrow everything from a friend (including his gun). I still remember sitting in the stand all by myself, just listening to the sounds around me. I remember being the most tuned in and attentive that I had ever been. I also remember my "dumbass in headlights" imitation when the 8 point trotted along the path and then disappeared before I even got the gun up. Most of all, I remember the crosshairs of the BSA catseye scope settled on the front shoulder of bambi...and the kick of the 30.06 through the remington 700. I also remember him tasting pretty darn good :) Duck hunting was the same way. I just got drug along one day. Now, I mostly duck hunt. All of the deer are either on privately owned land (expensive to get on) or the state parks. I could go to public land, but when the parking lots look like a walmart 2 weeks before xmas, I just decide to pass.
 
My grandfather gave me a single shot Cooey 22 at about 15 years of age and I won a scope for it in a contest with CIL a year or so later. Still have to today but with a 1 inch scope on it. Have shot countless gophers and crows and magpies and a couple deer with it and many many cows,sheep and pigs and it is still ready incase the racoons or groundhogs actually do something bad around here.
I have other guns now but it's still one of my favorites. My daughter learnt to shoot it and went on to beat all the boys at summer camp at shooting.
 
Cool picture, yes. It started when I convinced my dear old grandmother to buy me a Daisy Powerline pump .177 pellet rifle, which was a premium holy grail for me, relative to my buddy's Daisy Red Ryder, and since mom wouldn't buy me anything of the sort. I was probably 12 y.o. I gave those chipmunks and tweetie birds and magpies hell in southern Colo. Didn't hit many, as my stalking & shooting skills were poor, but I sure tried. :)

Then there was the quail hunt at 14 yrs and the dove hunt at 15 yrs; started to blossom from there.
 
Nice subject. I started by sneaking an American Classic BB pistol of my Dad's out to wreak havoc on small critters (and one or two street lights unfortunately). I was likely 9-10 yrs old. I graduated to a single-shot .22 rifle that usually failed to eject. Got pretty quick at flicking out the spent case and reloading for a follow-up shot.
I almost always hunted alone (>90% of the time). I bagged a turkey at 15-16 yrs old, and a deer the following year. I was with my Dad for the deer, though. By with him, I mean to say he and I drove to the hunt, and ate lunch together later, otherwise I hunted alone then too. I've become increasingly interested in finding a brother to the Savage bolt-actioned 30/30 I nabbed the deer with. I recently found a brother to my dad's Savage 99 that I never even fired, but always will associate him with. I laugh at myself now how fearful I was then of that mighty (lol) .300 Savage's recoil. I certainly built it up to be a real shoulder-stretcher of lore, hehe. I mean, it was called a Savage for Pete's sake!
 
On a cold, drizzly October weekend, a seven year old boy hunches down between a pile of firewood and the back yard fence, trying to keep warm. His air rifle pumped and loaded; ready for the first bird to make the mistake of flying into this yard.

That sounds pretty close for me.
 
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