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I remember hunting a few times with my dad when we were kids, would have been late 60's or early 70's. Everybody back then that I knew were road hunters up in rural Nebraska. They'd grown up as farm kids and knew all the folks who owned land and we'd just drive around with occasional stops to hit choice places or join up with a relatives to do drives along tree lines. Deer were scarce, to put it mildly. I think I only remember dad getting a deer a couple of times. Our job was to help spot the deer. Oddly I always swore as a kid that I'd never go deer hunting, though I had no problems eating it or helping hold a dead one down as dad field dressed it.

Probably went 5 years without hunting with my dad (to say my dad and I didn't get along starting in my teenage years was putting it mildly), and then I hit a doe on the road when I was 17. I ended up in the ditch, she ran away, and that fall was revenge. Dad and I went up with me using my brother's 7mm Mag. 20 yard shot at a fawn dead center in the chest and we didn't really have to field dress that poor thing. Just slice, turn over and let it flow out. But boy did that small deer taste good. I think I've missed one deer season since then. Dad got a nice 4x4 that year as well.

I was born late in '49 so in '59 I would turn 10. Sometime ?? in the early 60s Dad took me 'deer' hunting in Garland Co. and I carried a shotgun, don't remember what/which gun.

It was C O L D and we did NOT have warm clothes as we have today. I saw a whole lot of hunters and NOT ONE deer. That was the last time I went 'deer' hunting for some yrs.

We had bird dogs so we quail hunted, walking helped stay NOT so cold. We/I also squirrel hunted.

I didn't start deer hunting till 1972, so I was almost 23 Y O. From there it has been all full throttle down hill.


Jerry

Camp my father hunted out of in Vermont with some of his friends. I was about 13± . I did not wander to far out the door during the day . My job was to stay back and help the cook who once ran a bakery -- My main job was to help him prepare the evening meal of mashed taters, Veggies, venison steak, and of course the deep dish apple pies-- best ever.
Peel taters and apples, do dishes, but my main job was to make sure his glass was always full of draft beer.That alone kept me very busy. The men never hunted hard. Once meat was hanging to eat ,the poker chips ,beer and Whisky took up lots of their time. After opening morning the hunts would start around 10:00 am--- poker till 3:00 am

This place is where I learned bonding with the older males. Things that were said and done would or should never leave the interior walls of camp. Back at school on Mondays the classmates who never had chance of a hunting camp education would ask me all kinds of questions. I'd give them just enough info. and then leave them hanging on the cliff. --- I made sure my son got the same education at camp , but the only difference-- we at camp now are more serious hunters. --- Web

Gorgeous ! !

I forgot to mention this in my post per 'kid' stories.

I mentioned this in the 760/7600 Pump thread.

Seriously - My Dad and Grandpa (dad's dad) were serious when they talked about the RARITY of even seeing a deer track.

There were so few deer that most people never saw a deer's track.

TO DATE -

I see deer in my pasture frequently and have killed a few since moving here in 2012.

Last Spring I had Deer tracks in my FRONT yard. They were eating the buds on a Red Tip that's not more than 15 steps from my house.


Times certainly have changed.


Jerry

Our local newspaper has some articles from past issues, every week. A while back there was an article where in 1961 a local dairy farmer saw a doe and two fawns run across his pasture. Deer were so scarce that it was newsworthy. miles

When I was a kid the world was a better place.

When I was a kid, I use to.........

No Wait.... I still do that.....

Well, 1972...but I remember it like it was yesterday! Nov 23, too.
Mom's birthday!

I was 15 in 1967 and my dad, cousin, his buds Pete and Frank would head to Westminister Vermont which is up the road from Putney every weekend.
Pete and Frank had a camp there
.
One Satirday night we headed into town for ice cream and on the way back we spotted 6-8 deer and one big one stood out in the full moon.

The next morning my dad and I hunted across the street from the camp on a ridge line that was a short distance away.
my dad told me to walk in the woods and find a spot which I did.
I was using a Winchester Model 94 pre 64.

I wasn't there very long and here comes a doe ambling along and a 6 point buck with his nose up her ass., head down, very close to me.
The deer never caught wind and I put two shots from the 94 in the heart area. I remember those bullet holes were 2-3 inches apart,
That buck made one jump in place and dropped in a heap.
It was bittersweet since my father died two years later.
The Gus continued to take me hunting the next few years until they sold the camp.
Three years ago Frank and I took a road trip and found the camp.

It changed a bit I'm sure, an addition and I'm sure indoor plumbing and running water from a well.

I tell my son the best few years was going to a deer camp and he and his friends should do the same one day.

reading some of these stories it's amazing how far we've come in conservation in the last 50 years. which makes me scratch my head when I read about people bad mouthing biologists and how regs are set. ymmv

1977 and I want my pacifier.

Shot my first deer in 1970. I was on a hunting trip with my dad and several family friends. Up until that time I had hunted for a couple seasons with no opportunity to shoot a deer.
My uncle took me under his wing to try to get me a deer. We left camp before dawn and just after first light we hit a fresh track ( fresh snow the night before) and followed up for a couple of miles til we came to the edge of a big opening. My uncle spotted the buck and a couple does moving across the opening and said he'd better take the first shot as they were about 300 yards away. After the shot they start to head for the timber and he yells for me to shoot as he missed. I got off a couple shots and at the second shot the buck sagged noticeably and slowed to a walk/stumble. Uncle gives him one more shot to be sure and a couple minutes later we were standing next to a nice 5pt mule deer.
I hunted a couple more years with that uncle and he remains my favourite uncle. He helped me a lot through my teen years and I have never forgotten his patience and kindness with me.
Every year on the anniversary of that first deer I stop and remember those times and my uncle, without fail.
My favourite hunting is still hunting with my brother chasing mule deer in November in the snow, nothing has topped it for hunting, for me.

I was 14 in 1967 when I went deer hunting for the first time. I had small game hunted for a couple of years by then, and shot in a junior smallbore league. I coaxed my dad into buying me a deer rifle, as I had shot my wad on my .22 target rifle (pre-war Winchester 52). His idea was to fix me up with a Mauser- a greasy old Spanish M1916 7mm Mauser. It was pretty bad, but he rationalized that I could learn a thing or two by "sporterizing" it after the season was over. (Plus, the cheap guy that he was, he got off by only spending $15 for it out of the trunk of somebody's car.) This was on the day before Thanksgiving, with only two days to get familiar with it before deer season. Sheesh. A quick trip to Monkey Wards got me two boxes of 175gr. ammo, and off to the county dump we went to "sight it in". I could hit a gallon can at 50 yards pretty handily- after I learned to hold about a foot low. (Standard military sights- lowest setting was 3 or 400 yards as I recall.) It actually grouped fairly well considering there wasn't much useable rifling left in the bore.

Thankfully (for the deer) I didn't get to shoot it at anything. I remember how I shivered violently from the cold more than anything else that opening day- uninsulated rubber boots and a thin pair of cotton socks. OMG, a recipe for disaster.

After the season, I dutifully set about sporterizing it- cut down stock, hand polished, and a blue job follow up at the LGS,and an el-cheapo Bushnell 3-9x. One neat thing though- my grandfather chucked the barrel in his lathe and worked out a taper that cleaned the steps off that military barrel very sweetly. I learned a lot, and most importantly that gun started me down the road of gun building. Never mind the fact that it shot even worse when I was done with it. (First couple shots in a decent group and then started to walk as that thin barrel heated up. A lot- like a foot at 100 yards by the sixth shot.)

More and better rifles soon found their way into my grubby mitts (Krags, Springfields, and in '70 my first ever income tax refund went for a new 700BDL in .243.) Cars, beer, and women took their usual toll on gun buying for a while after that. What am I saying- they still do!

When I was a kid, my first deer hunt was up near Lake Tahoe, CA in the D3 & D4 zones. I was either 14 or 15, no one in my immediate family hunted (most thought it was a phase that would pass), so my first hunt was more of a camping trip with a gun.

We drove up to my uncle's house and loaded everything into his truck. Drove the truck out into an area we had scouted over the summer that seemed like nice deer habitat, then loaded up our backpacks and hiked in probably another 4 or 5 miles.

I remember I was super excited, very ambitious, and incredibly naive at how hard finding a deer in California is. My rifle weighed 9 pounds, my backpack weighed about 50 pounds, I weighed about 125 pounds and I got tired of carrying my gear quick. We ended up dumping my pack and my dad and uncle figured one of them could come collect it later.

Walked around the rest of the day with no success and no sign of anything. Ended up hiking back to where my gear was dumped and just camping there. I remember my dad was not so pleased to have carried his gear all day when he could have left it with mine. (My uncle, who had run a safari outfit in Africa for 20+ years, was far more experienced in packing light and told me about the extremes some guys go to save weight - like cutting their toothbrush handle off. Thought he was nuts at the time, totally understand it now).

We setup camp for the evening, ate some freeze dried beef stroganoff and settled into our tents for the night. I remember hearing a coyote as I was falling asleep. All three of us were deep in sleep when we awoke to the most unnatural racket. A herd of cattle had come clambering through and the owner of the cows had tied bells to some of their necks. That pretty much ended any peaceful sleep for the rest of the night.

We got up the next day, hunted, moved camp over lunch, then hunted some more. I never did see a deer that trip, but I can remember sitting on top of a big stone outcropping that overlook a huge meadow and beyond it was a great expanse of forest and way beyond that, just teeny-tiny in the binoculars, I could see the highway we used to drive in on. A truly spectacular view.

I know I probably had a poor attitude about it then as the quality of the hunt at that age was still judge by if I shot a deer or not, but looking back it is one of my most favorite hunts. I know if we went again I would probably still not get a deer, but my pack would be lighter, my rifle would be lighter, and I would focus on enjoying the time in nature, being away from the office, and the beauty of the mountains. I've actually talked to my dad about doing just that too over Christmas, he said "Sure, as long as there are no more cows."

Don't let junior kid you, that pic was taken 4 years ago.

Snort.

When I was aa kid there weren't any deer to hunt in Western Oklahoma, we never saw a track. Oh there were a few here and there on the public lands and along the rivers, but hunting them was tough, not many guys got one. That began to change in the late 80's and now there are many. Our Wildlife Dept has done an excellent job.

When I was a kid we had no deer where I lived! Seriously. We had wild pheasants, grouse and bunnies though and that's what I grew up hunting. Worked in a machine shop after school and walked the two miles back home through the woods carrying my 16 GA double. No eyebrows raised by anyone!
Would hunt decoyed pigeons on Saturday afternoons in a chopped corn field. Went through many boxes of shells, and I know some of the pellets hit adjoining houses, but the cops never were called!!!
Now both places are subdivisions! Progress?
My first deer hunt was with that 16 double. Saw no deer, but bagged a Snowshoe rabbit with the buckshot (held off like the old man taught me and had only one pellet in the head). My mother fried it up and I still can taste that faint turpentine!
Feel sorry for kids today that are interested in hunting. So many obstacles.

When I was about 12 years old, Dad turned me lose with the shotgun to hunt rabbits and put some much needed meat on the table. I'd get off the bus, quickly change clothes, grab the old Fox Model B or the 870 and grab the beagle and off we'd go. I could hit all my good spots before the 5:00 closing time if I hustled. Danny, our beagle knew the route by heart. If I'd have just turned him loose on his own, he'd have gone to the same spots. Saturdays were all day hunts. We'd both be pretty worn out by the end of the day. No Sunday hunting in Ohio, so we got to just gear down on Sunday. Usually needed a full day to get my accumulated chores caught up anyways. There was a convenience store across the street from the one chunk of strip mine land we used to hunt. Danny and I would go in there every Saturday. The owner was a hunter, and really liked me and Danny. He'd have a bowl of water and some food out for Danny when we got there. I'd buy a can of pop and a can of Vienna sausages, and that would hold me over till we were done. Walk in a store with an uncased shotgun today and the cops are coming for sure.

So many great stories to tell. One of my favorite hunting areas was the Banks lake area in eastern Washington. It was the winter of 72/73 and I was hunting pheasants and happened to catch movement on a rock slide at the base of a cliff so I walked back to the car and glassed the hill side and there was a herd of Mule Deer browsing on the slope. I drove over to the bottom of the slope where there was a bench and got my 264WM out and was about 60 yards from the deer and there was a buck in the bunch so I sat down at the bench got a good rest and bang dropped in his tracks, climbed the slope rolled the deer down to the car, dressed him out loaded and home I went so meat in the freezer and one of the easiest deer I ever got.