Got it through the jeans as they say. My dad spoke of going with his dad, my grampa, up into northern Pa. to hunt deer. They would travel to the end of the road, and hop a train into the far northeast area of Pa. not far from Lake Erie. They'd take the train as far as it went, and then the rest of the way to camp by horse drawn carts. Dad later fought his way across Africa and Europe under General Patton. After the war, him and 4 other guys pooled their meager resources, bought an acre of land in Clearfield County Pa. Purchase price was $40.00. We've occupied that land ever since. My son is the third generation of our family to hunt Boone Mountain. I owe all my hunting experience to my dad. I wish I was as good a shot as he was. Dad seldom missed a deer, and never missed twice. One of my favorite stories from when the Old Guard, as we like to call the original members of our camp were all still with us envolves a doe hunt up on the mountain. The guys had 7 doe tags, and while party hunting wasn't legal, if multiple opportunities presented themselves to a hunter, he'd do his best to put as much meat on the table as possible. Dad was carrying an old Model 94 chambered for .32 Special. A whole herd of does wandered in front of him. There were 7 less when they left. Another guy from another party came by one of our guys who was headed dad's way and said to him, "if that guy with the Winchester is with you, you'd better get over there and give him a hand-he's got dead deer laying all over the hill!"
