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#6015158 01/08/12
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powdr Offline OP
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This is about my 50th deer season, give or take a few.Started w/my deceased Dad in 1958 in a small hill country community called Doss.It is located between Mason and Fredricksburg and at the time was a prime hunting location in Texas.My Dad paid $35 for a season lease and I can remember my Mom saying,"Oh my God how are we going to pay for it." My Dad worked for General Tire in Waco building truck tires and I can remember him saying that in 1958 he made a gross income of $5830.My Dad had to hunt on the weekends and once in a great while he would take a day of vacation to work in a 3 day hunt.My mother would give him between $5-$7 for his entire trip.That's gas and everything.He would take a sack of bologna sandwiches and usually a small pot of beans,a quart mason jar of tea, and a thermos for coffee that he would make at camp.He started this regiment in 1956 and continued it until around 1964 or so.

His rifle was an Enfield 30-06 that he bought for $12.95 and sporterized by him...mainly w/a grinder and file taking off the ears,cutting and straightening the floorplate and cutting the barrel of behind the front site.He said at the time the actions were so hard that many were almost impossible to drill so the bases had to be soldered on as a alternative.He attached a relatively inexpensive SPI scope that was sturdy scope for the time.After the gunsmith finished polishing his file work and alterations plus bluing the bill came to a little over $15.He ordered a stock from Rhinehart-Fajen for between $10 and $15...I believe $12.95. He fitted and finished it himself w/a lin speed oil concoction that left a wonderful smell in the kitchen and a beautiful finish but one that was not real shiny.I'm sure he had no more than $60 in the finished rifle.For some reason he always used a rope in his early days for a sling.He shot the 150gr Sierra w/4064 I believe and paid the gunsmith $1.50 to reload a box of shells for him.He never target practiced except the week before deer season to check zero.This was a lesson carried over from the depression where one never wasted shells.

He always hunted from an oak tree not more than 6-8ft off the ground.He would find a place to nail up a 2x6 between to limbs w/a smaller limb below to rest his feet on.Several 2x4's served as steps to get into the tree.This is how he hunted in his younger years till us boys came along.

My Dad was an excellent game shot on both running and standing deer.He killed two bucks every year I can remember from my youth.We were a family of 6 and all loved venison w/the exception of my Mother.The deer however only lasted us until about May or early June.Talk about jonesen for venison from June until November...whew!My Dad passed down a legacy to me that I will forever be grateful for.He taught his children to love God,fishing and hunting,respect for authority and their elders and family is the only thing.My Father passed away last year early in November just 3 days before his 59th big game season.I have had such a hard time getting used to "Never Again." powdr

Last edited by powdr; 01/08/12.
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Never say never it is up to you now You can doit be tough.

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Originally Posted by powdr
This is about my 50th deer season, give or take a few.Started w/my deceased Dad in 1958 in a small hill country community called Doss.It is located between Mason and Fredricksburg and at the time was a prime hunting location in Texas.My Dad paid $35 for a season lease and I can remember my Mom saying,"Oh my God how are we going to pay for it." My Dad worked for General Tire in Waco building truck tires and I can remember him saying that in 1958 he made a gross income of $5830.My Dad had to hunt on the weekends and once in a great while he would take a day of vacation to work in a 3 day hunt.My mother would give him between $5-$7 for his entire trip.That's gas and everything.He would take a sack of bologna sandwiches and usually a small pot of beans,a quart mason jar of tea, and a thermos for coffee that he would make at camp.He started this regiment in 1956 and continued it until around 1964 or so.

His rifle was an Enfield 30-06 that he bought for $12.95 and sporterized by him...mainly w/a grinder and file taking off the ears,cutting and straightening the floorplate and cutting the barrel of behind the front site.He said at the time the actions were so hard that many were almost impossible to drill so the bases had to be soldered on as a alternative.He attached a relatively inexpensive SPI scope that was sturdy scope for the time.After the gunsmith finished polishing his file work and alterations plus bluing the bill came to a little over $15.He ordered a stock from Rhinehart-Fajen for between $10 and $15...I believe $12.95. He fitted and finished it himself w/a lin speed oil concoction that left a wonderful smell in the kitchen and a beautiful finish but one that was not real shiny.I'm sure he had no more than $60 in the finished rifle.For some reason he always used a rope in his early days for a sling.He shot the 150gr Sierra w/4064 I believe and paid the gunsmith $1.50 to reload a box of shells for him.He never target practiced except the week before deer season to check zero.This was a lesson carried over from the depression where one never wasted shells.

He always hunted from an oak tree not more than 6-8ft off the ground.He would find a place to nail up a 2x6 between to limbs w/a smaller limb below to rest his feet on.Several 2x4's served as steps to get into the tree.This is how he hunted in his younger years till us boys came along.

My Dad was an excellent game shot on both running and standing deer.He killed two bucks every year I can remember from my youth.We were a family of 6 and all loved venison w/the exception of my Mother.The deer however only lasted us until about May or early June.Talk about jonesen for venison from June until November...whew!My Dad passed down a legacy to me that I will forever be grateful for.He taught his children to love God,fishing and hunting,respect for authority and their elders and family is the only thing.My Father passed away last year early in November just 3 days before his 59th big game season.I have had such a hard time getting used to "Never Again." powdr


Your Dad may never "physically" be there again, but that does NOT mean he won't be "there". Memories are a wonderful thing. I am the ONLY one left in my family that hunts. I think that's why my wife started to hunt with me. She ALWAYS went with me, but now she actually hunts (and kills) with me. Actually, it's sad to say, that I miss my father-in-law and my brother more than I miss Dad. My father hunted, but I never saw him kill anything "legally". Everytime I hunt, I have something from my brother and FIL with me. I think of all three while I hunt. They are NEVER gone. I think you'll find the same. Best of luck.


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Great story, powdr!


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Great story. I love things like this, as I came from a nonhunting family. As with anything, there are always mementos, memorable places, sayings and other things that you can always keep with you. Maybe use his old rifle to take a deer, or build one like it to honor him.


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Powdr, sounds like you are a most fortunate man to have been raised in a great family with wonderful parents. You have already been blessed, got to take it forward and pass it on.


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Originally Posted by powdr
This is about my 50th deer season, give or take a few.Started w/my deceased Dad in 1958 in a small hill country community called Doss.It is located between Mason and Fredricksburg and at the time was a prime hunting location in Texas.My Dad paid $35 for a season lease and I can remember my Mom saying,"Oh my God how are we going to pay for it." My Dad worked for General Tire in Waco building truck tires and I can remember him saying that in 1958 he made a gross income of $5830.My Dad had to hunt on the weekends and once in a great while he would take a day of vacation to work in a 3 day hunt.My mother would give him between $5-$7 for his entire trip.That's gas and everything.He would take a sack of bologna sandwiches and usually a small pot of beans,a quart mason jar of tea, and a thermos for coffee that he would make at camp.He started this regiment in 1956 and continued it until around 1964 or so.

His rifle was an Enfield 30-06 that he bought for $12.95 and sporterized by him...mainly w/a grinder and file taking off the ears,cutting and straightening the floorplate and cutting the barrel of behind the front site.He said at the time the actions were so hard that many were almost impossible to drill so the bases had to be soldered on as a alternative.He attached a relatively inexpensive SPI scope that was sturdy scope for the time.After the gunsmith finished polishing his file work and alterations plus bluing the bill came to a little over $15.He ordered a stock from Rhinehart-Fajen for between $10 and $15...I believe $12.95. He fitted and finished it himself w/a lin speed oil concoction that left a wonderful smell in the kitchen and a beautiful finish but one that was not real shiny.I'm sure he had no more than $60 in the finished rifle.For some reason he always used a rope in his early days for a sling.He shot the 150gr Sierra w/4064 I believe and paid the gunsmith $1.50 to reload a box of shells for him.He never target practiced except the week before deer season to check zero.This was a lesson carried over from the depression where one never wasted shells.

He always hunted from an oak tree not more than 6-8ft off the ground.He would find a place to nail up a 2x6 between to limbs w/a smaller limb below to rest his feet on.Several 2x4's served as steps to get into the tree.This is how he hunted in his younger years till us boys came along.

My Dad was an excellent game shot on both running and standing deer.He killed two bucks every year I can remember from my youth.We were a family of 6 and all loved venison w/the exception of my Mother.The deer however only lasted us until about May or early June.Talk about jonesen for venison from June until November...whew!My Dad passed down a legacy to me that I will forever be grateful for.He taught his children to love God,fishing and hunting,respect for authority and their elders and family is the only thing.My Father passed away last year early in November just 3 days before his 59th big game season.I have had such a hard time getting used to "Never Again." powdr


Your father sounds like he was a great man and someone to look up to. I truly miss my father every day.


A Doe walks out of the woods today and says, that is the last time I'm going to do that for Two Bucks.
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My dad also passed away a year or so ago at 93 and I remember many hunts with him.
We too grew up with a shortage of cash money and more than once had to kill a deer out of season to get any meat on the table at all.
Back in the late 40's early 50's it was not called poaching.It was called trying to get enough food for the family without starving.


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Dam for a minute there I thought we were brothers - my dad "sporterized" an Enfield back in the late 60s I think IIRC
that he ordered the barrel action from Sears - maybe I will post some pics of it. Just hang in there my dad is 82 and can't hunt with us any more it is tough to go with out him .


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I could care less who shoot a deer out of season, even today as long as they eat it.


A Doe walks out of the woods today and says, that is the last time I'm going to do that for Two Bucks.
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Powdr,

Maybe my story will help you. It's very similar to yours, but i'm at a different stage than you.

My dad was also a hunter. He loved to hunt deer and elk. He was a great man who would do anything for his family. He was a house painter all his life, and worked like a dog to provide for us. He was a strong Christian, and that's how I was brought up. He fought in WW2, and came home with a handful of medals, but never talked about it. He never bragged, but would give you congrats if you did.
In 1950 when I was 8 years old, he bought me a .22. He taught me how to still hunt. It was the only way he hunted. I would hunt for small game, and practice to be a good still hunter. I would go with him on deer hunts to watch him hunt. It was like going to school, but a good school. I never could get enough of it.
When I was 13 he bought me a Winchester 94 30-30. I still have that gun. We went hunting for deer together. I was like a sponge. I soaked in everything he taught me. He taught me to enjoy the hunt above all else. He taught me to respect the game. To hunt in a fair way to the game. To not look for the easy way just for a kill. He taught me to hunt, and give thanks for the meat.
We hunted together every year for deer and elk. I've never hunted with anybody else. In 1983 he passed away. I was crushed. He was not just my dad, but my best friend. Hunting was out of the question. I lost interest. It was a lousy time in my life.

I was in a fog for 6 months. Then the fog started to lift. I started to think about our hunts together. I could hear him laughing again. I could see him sneaking through the timber. He loved hunting, and passed that love of hunting on to me. I felt ashamed that I was going to give it up. That's not what he would want. He enjoyed hunting to his last days, and that's what he would want me to do too.

I've continued to hunt in honor of my dad. I've hunted alone for all this years, but I feel he's still with me. As I move slowly through the timber. I feel him next to me. We're still hunting together, and it's the joy of my life.

I'm sure your dad would want you to do the same thing.

Last edited by Mauser_Hunter; 01/08/12.

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powdr: I'm afraid I know just what you mean...there are some very important boots empty at my camp, and it stings like hell every year...
Occasionally, as you all know, I will tip a glass to " hunters home from the hill"...
But we go on, and thank our lucky stars that we had it so good...for so long....


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Thanks guys for the comments and encouragement...but it's going on two seasons now and I still am stuck at square one. A shiny box w/my hunting partner being lowered into the ground. My wife is letting me build a new rifle(nothing fancy)to help me get back to what she knows is important to me. Again, you guys are a special group and about the only thing that has kept me going. 24hr Campfire is a special place! powdr

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Originally Posted by powdr
My wife is letting me build a new rifle(nothing fancy)to help me get back to what she knows is important to me. powdr


With that heavy a heart, might consider hunting with pop's rifle.


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Honor your Dad powdr. Hunt with him again. He will be in your memory every time you step in the woods. I hunt with my kids (14 and 9), and truly hope they will continue after I am gone. I will continue to be with them.....


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Quote
He started this regiment in 1956 and continued it until around 1964 or so.

His rifle was an Enfield 30-06 that he bought for $12.95 and sporterized by him...mainly w/a grinder and file taking off the ears,cutting and straightening the floorplate and cutting the barrel of behind the front site.He said at the time the actions were so hard that many were almost impossible to drill so the bases had to be soldered on as a alternative.He attached a relatively inexpensive SPI scope that was sturdy scope for the time.After the gunsmith finished polishing his file work and alterations plus bluing the bill came to a little over $15.He ordered a stock from Rhinehart-Fajen for between $10 and $15...I believe $12.95. He fitted and finished it himself w/a lin speed oil concoction that left a wonderful smell in the kitchen and a beautiful finish but one that was not real shiny.I'm sure he had no more than $60 in the finished rifle.



That's about $500 now.

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Thank you for sharing that story...


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powdr- sounds to me like your dad did good, as a hunter AND as a father.

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Two great stories.


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Thanks for sharing Powdr. Those of us who have lost our fathers can relate.

Your father sounds like a fellow well met. You are truly blessed to have known him and have had some 50 hunting seasons with him.

I had about 8 years of hunting, mainly upland, with my father and siblings before college. There were 3 deer seasons along the way. Then none until college and law school were over. We finally hunted again for deer in 1983 at a friend's farm. It was last minute and in those days in Missouri doe tags had to be bought early, so all we had were buck tags. Opening morning, a 10 pointer got within 50 yards of him and just stopped and looked at him. Dad just enjoyed the view of the first buck he'd seen in the woods while carrying a gun. We saw nothing but does after that, but we saw tons. It was a great hunt with great friends, food and laughter. He passed little more than a year later at age 57. Like you and Mauser Hunter, I lost interest in hunting for a time.

Despite my loss, I had received a special gift, my father and the times we had fishing, hunting, and, dare I say, doing chores (I know now why he always asked me to bend over and pick up that wrench). It was odd to me to have sorrow for the loss while at the same time a sense of joy for the gift. I got a greater understanding of what someone once said, "Joy and sorrow are two sides of the same coin." And Dad, probably like your father, wouldn't let me wallow in pity for too long.

So with lots of prayer, I began to celebrate his life. The sense of loss eased a little bit each day. As time passed, I was more able in my limited fashion to pass on to my family and friends some of the opportunities my Dad had provided me. "Never again" became "still" because of the continuing on.

I pray that your mourning will be replaced a little bit more each day with a growing sense of peace and celebration of your father's life. And I have no doubt that it will. Otherwise, how are the rest of us going to get to know him? That would never do.



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