Home Forums Hunting & Shooting Deer Hunting To Dad's long gone

Verrry cool Scorp...

Ingwe

Thanks ingwe

My dad passed away in march. Me and him didnt always see eye to eye but i tell you what i sure miss him. He was 61 yrs old. Way too young. Still hard to believe he is gone. Love you DAD

My dad would take us out of school for 2 days and add them to a weekend and we would head to the Musselshell and deer hunt. We went every year as I grew up. When I got older, I took him and my boys, even one of my daughters.

When I shot my Buffalo, I had him come along. He wasn't much of a conservationist, we would still be cleaning turkeys we shot several years ago if he'd had his way.

I do miss him...








This was supposed to be the biggest doe in the herd. He is showing the male parts, and you can even see evidence of the horn buttons on the head...

"He wasn't much of a conservationist, we would still be cleaning turkeys we shot several years ago if he'd had his way."

Now that's funny right there


Cool photos as always, Shrapnel.

Great post.
Every day I've spent in the outdoors with my son is golden.
Many times I've had the thought run through my mind.
"At my funeral, how will my son remember me?"
I've worked hard and I think I know the answer.
No stronger bond can be built than in the outdoors where your very survival depends on each other.
Warmest wishes out to fathers & sons who share the bonds of our outdoor heritage.
Words simply fall short.

You guys are truly blessed! My dad left when I was 15, he wasn't much for the outdoors, but he did pawn me off on some of the men that worked for him and they took me hunting. He is still alive and doesn't even know my kids. You guys really have so many blessings and great memories...

Great to read such touching tributes here. It's amazing how we can deal with this stuff pretty well until the wind starts coming out of the north and the ducks start flocking up and heading south. Dad loved being outside, and loved the fall season. Many have spoken of what good shots their dads' were. I think we've lost a whole generation of guys who could just plain shoot anything, anytime. I've had my moments, but I'll never be half the shooter my dad was. Dad was notorious for getting to camp and realizing that in spite of the fact he starting packing three weeks before deer season, he had once again forgot his ammo. We must have had at least 10 boxes of 300 Savage ammo with one round shot out of them. Dad just didn't miss. Period. Maybe it was a result of the time these guys spent in the Army in a bygone era, but there certainly seems to be a disconnect between the way they shot, and the way I shoot. Hat's off to all those who have gone before us. To those who still have their fathers around, please be sure to take every single opportunity to spend time with them afield. You never know when it may be the last trip.

I'm 28 and I lost my dad in 2002; he was 61. We didn't spend a huge amount of time outdoors but the time we did spend I cherish in my heart. He spent time with me when I was in Boy Scouts, teaching me many things the other boys would never learn. But, I didn't get to have the kind of relationship that most of you had with your fathers.

My dad was terribly injured in a car accident in 1988, losing his right leg and doing massive damage to his entire body. So, I pretty much had to become an adult at the young age of 7 to help take care of him. And that I did, I spent the next 14 years taking care of my dad. There were times during my late teen years that I rebelled (as all teens do) and now I wish I could take that time back to fill it with better memories.

We fished where we could and did some hunting, mainly squirrel. One year, when I was 13/14 and getting started deer hunting, he decided he would go. Being handicapped and mostly wheelchair bound he was able to hunt from the cab of his truck. We parked him up overlooking a drop down into a field area with a few trees and I went off in my own direction. I wasn't in my stand 30 minutes till I heard a shot in his direction. Then I heard another right shortly after that. A couple honks on the horn of the truck told me that he had taken something. We (my scoutmaster and me) get up to him and find out that he shot a buck a pretty good ways out. He had tried to shoot first with an older M1 Garand with a scope (that was WAY off evidently, lol) and missed. The deer never moved and he had time to get the Winchester .30-30 out of the case, load it and fire 1 round at 150 yards, with iron sights, into this buck's neck. An amazing shot for a handicapped fella with failing eyesight shooting from the cab of a truck! It was my dad's first and only buck. We went several times over a few years after that, but he was never able to take another deer. Then he got to the point with his health that going and sitting in the cold woods just wasn't an option anymore.

I miss all the shooting we did as I was growing up; as most of the other guys have said my dad, too, was one helluva shot!

After dad passed, I had to sell some of our guns to help pay for the funeral; but I kept the ones that meant the most to me, the ones that we hunted with, the ones that held the most memories. The winter after dad died my house was broken into and all of those guns stolen; now I have very little in the way of things like that for memories. What I do have, I keep locked away. I have a CVA Mountain rifle that was given to me by my Scoutmaster that my dad and I refinished when I was 14/15; that I am now refinishing. I also kept his old gun cabinet and just recently completed refinishing it. I browse the local pawn shops from time to time in case those guns ever show up, but I doubt they will. I would like to track down those guns and purchase replacements in the future.

Anyway, before this gets way too long (and its getting hard to type with tears in my eyes)...my hat's off to you Dad, I love you and miss you!

---This is dad with the deer he killed, the next picture is the Scoutmaster that was pretty much a 2nd father to me during my years in Boy Scouts.



*The boy on the 2nd pic is not me, he was another boy scout that was hunting with us*

I count myself very lucky to still get to see every opening morning of deer season for the last 20+ years with my father by my side. His health has been in question a few times but never his devotion to me or my brother or helping us with our fishing, shooting, hunting or anything else us kids wanted to do. Hes alwasy been there and i cannot fathom what it will be like to one day see the sun come up on opening morning with him not on the hill with me.

Lost my dad over 30 years ago to cigarettes and lung cancer. He was my mentor, fishing/hunting buddy and hero. there have been many times over the years that I have wished he was here to share his wisdom durting the tough times. But I am truly blessed to have had that kind of father while he was here.

One of my favorite things is to carry one of his rifles to the woods and take a deer with it.

Dad went to better HuntingJan. of 2007. Here is his last hunting trip with us when he found an ice patch under the snow. One of the last great laffs my Dad,brother and I got to share

Lost my Dad in August of 2007. I grew up in the Ozarks of Northern Arkansas hunting with my Dad and Grandpa. Dad and Grandpa started making an annual hunting trip to Colorado in the 40�s and when I turned 16 they brought me to Colorado for my first mule deer hunt. Liked it so much that I moved here over 30 years ago.

I�ll never forget that first hunt �out west� with the two of them�.one of my best experiences ever. Dad shot an old Savage Model 1899 30-30. It became my gun on that first hunt to Colorado. I took my first two mulies that trip�one a 31 incher. Dad had not even seen a buck the entire week. So on the morning that we were leaving to head back home, Dad took the old gun�..�lucky, as he called it��..up the hill from our camp while Grandpa and I packed up the truck. About an hour later he came back down the hill dragging a respectable 3X4 buck!

Grandpa killed 8 deer with the gun, Dad killed 22 with it and I killed my first ten with the gun. Now my son and grandson are making memories with it. I think about him every day and how lucky I was to have him as my Dad.

We were at a fund-raising banquet one time and the question was asked about how successful hunters had been in reference to elk hunting. When they asked who had been fortunate to shoot a bull elk, quite a few hands were raised. The next question was 2 bull elk, and fewer hands were raised. Then the question about who was lucky enough to have shot 3 or more bull elk, my father leaned over and asked.."Does he mean at one time?"

ya know I passed on this thread a few times. Glad I read it though. Dad has been gone since 2005, but I always feel that he is with me hunting regardless. He was mostly a bird hunter and I'm not, or at least wasnt as I was a competitive rifle shooter mostly... but as I age(at 44...) I am more and more loving ducks that he never got to do, and trying to do more dove that he did. Unfortunately he shot a lot of quail when younger and we don't have any of those... but I'm giving it my best and I often take out his old shotguns when I hunt. Seems he must be driving them as I dont shoot shotguns that well....

Thanks, Jeff

1st hunting season with out my dad! very diffrent up at camp, this year. he took a nice whitetail Doe the last two seasons with his cross bow, but nothing with the rifle, I think the colder weather, was mostly the cause, hope I can still do the same when Im 80! Just have to think of the good times, life gos on!
John

I lost my Dad in May of this year. As deer season and elk season come it is getting harder to get ready to go with out him. But if I did't he would be pissed so here we go, I am going to carry his one and only rifle during elk season he never got an elk so I will give it a crack.

The fire is still there. Try and figure out a way to go with him even if it's for one day. Nothing more special than spending time with your Dad out in the woods.

If he needs any encouragement have him read this thread and what it means to the people that post.

Good luck .

Shrapnel,

One of my hunting mentors was just like that! He told me how to sneak up on onto an eastern Montana farm pond one November many years ago, while he stayed in the truck with the dogs, because he was 75 and didn't much like the cold. There were at least 200 mallards on the pond and I killed three big greenheads with my pump-gun, when they flushed. He got a little mad, and asked me "What did you do, let 'em fly?" he then told me a grandson of his had gotten 30-something off the same pond a couple of years before.

My dad died when I was 16, about the same time Ingwe's did. He wasn't a hard-core hunter but did like to go if other people did, and since I did he went along. I was there when he killed the last deer of his life, and was lucky to have one guy he mentored take me under his wing afterward.

It seems like our older hunting partners (and hunting dogs) never do live long enough, unless we are really, really lucky.

Good thread. I lost my Dad in 1989 and still miss spending time in the pheasant fields and deer woods together. Working hard to provide my sons and daughter the same kind of memories that he gave me.