My dad passed away 5 years ago. Hunting seasons are especially hard. Here are a couple of pictures of one of his first hunts.
His name was Frank Lindquist and he lived in Salem Oregon. His 6X4 mulie was his 1st buck ever. Take in Ea. Ore. He took it to the taxidermist but shortly after got drafted into the army. When he got home the shop had closed and his head was gone. The second picture is of his buck, his brothers buck, and a 15X13 winterkill they found(which later burned up in garage fire). I believe the year was 1940 or 41.

Thanks for the pics....good stuff!

My Dad died in 1982 and let me tell you, it doesn't get any easier. My brother died in 1996 and then my father in law in 2001. My wonderful son, a licensed guide, has moved far enough away that we only hunt together on occasion. I have a brother in law that THINKS he is a hunter but in reality, PURE yuppie!!!!!!!!!!!!! LOST cause. I make sure that on EVERY hunt I go on, whether it is bird hunting or deer huning that I carry something that belonged to each of them. Now, very luckily, my wife has turned into my best hunting partner. She braves whatever the conditions or temperatures. Always there, and always ready to squeeze the trigger. I only hope that those that have left me are watching.

I've written here many times about my dad. I'm pushing 50 now, and he died when I was 21. It doesn't get any easier. I still miss his guidance and woods savvy at deer camp. He was a great mentor, and every fall is a tough time for me. Thanks for posting the pics. I'm sure your dad was a strong influence and great hunter too.

wonderful post lazy.......... Thanks

Pop died in 1991. He was my guide, my mentor, my friend. He was with me at 7 years old, when I took my first deer.
Pop never talked down, talked loud or was too busy for me.

Not a day goes by that I don't spend time thinking of him.

I'm 57 and my dad has been gone thirty years now....it doesn't get any easier...

The man that kinda stepped in and was known to all as my "Surrogate Father" has now been gone 7 years....

For an aging man myself, sometimes I still feel like a lost little boy...

Ingwe

Here's to your dad...

I still have mine, and don't know what I'd do without him.

Mine's been gone for 26 years now. My brother Tom died a year ago next week. Miss both of them.

I'm 61. My father who was the most gifted wing shot I have ever seen and so good with a rifle I never saw him shoot more than once in all our years together has been gone some twelve years now. This year, for the first time I will pick up his knife and carry it with me hunting. I still remember him letting me shoot his rifle the first time when I wasn't even big enough to hold it myself. I am glad that he got to see me turn into a decent wing shot, and long before he died after I had just shot a monster buck on the last hour of the last day of the season when neither of us had so much as gotten a shot he came up to me and said I was pretty sure that if we we going to eat venison this year either you or I was going to have to shoot it.

My dad is still with us. My wife's dad died three years ago this month and she still has her moments although she is not one to talk about it much. I became a father for the first time this summer and being one makes me appreciate mine more. He's not perfect but whose dad is? Saturday morning is residents only day in Maine for whitetail. Along with some family we'll journey to the same old country church we've been going to for years and enjoy the hunter's breakfast before heading out.

Here's to all of your dads who've passed on already and to the dads still with us!

Cheers!

Here's to mine ! Thanks for the tribute.

Great pics and story, Lazydrifter!

My poppa passed on before he saw 36, I was only ten... it left a hole in my heart so big you could have drove a truck through. I envy all of you who had a father during the formative years.

Here's to my uncle/ mentor who took me under his wing and taught me to hunt and fish! A knifemaker...



And here's to the sons we are blessed to mentor!

Here, here. I'll drink to that. This IS a FANTASTIC thread.

It has been a while now since Dad passed into an eternity with the Lord. When I leave the house and hear the crunch of fresh snow under foot, I am transported back to the mid to late sixties and our walking, during hunting. I can still smell the "diesel and dust" odour of his parka in the truck when we first got in. We hunted, talked, warmed sandwhiches over a fire, and he showed me how a man can respect and love another man, without tarnish or impropriety. He raised a couple of honest, good hearted, respectful boys, who both still love to hunt together.

Randy

It has to hurt not having your mentor around. Montanaborn and myself are SOOO.... lucky dad is still kicking and able to go to camp to dispense his 91 years of knowledge to anybody who figures it worth hearing and watching. Here he is in his favorite Pendleton dispensing knowledge to yours truly.

Lucky Man!

Enjoy it to the fullest...I know I did...

Ingwe

My dad bought me a 12ga JC Higgins pump when I was 12 and we hunted quail. We did our first 400mi pheasant hunt when I was 16. We only missed one season pheasant hunting in 22 yrs. My grandmother was sick. We hunted deer in later years and he died peacefully at 86. Youse guys make me cry. Life is good.

Great thread guys, makes me feel very fortunate to still have my dad. He doesnt hunt any more as he is to busy for it. But even as I near my 33rd birthday he takes the time to hear "How I did?" every evening when he gets home.

And i thought it was just me.

At 41 I'm 10 years past my father's passing.

Still hard.

What's to do but pray that I can be half the father to my children as he was to me?

My dad will be gone now 4 years December 10th. I was 18 when he died, and there's not a day that goes by that I don't think of him in some way. He and I shared a lot of great times together, and my last memory of he and I together was a day we spent deer hunting together. I don't think we even saw a deer that day, but it was beautiful out, with a couple inches of snow, and we hunted sun up til sun down. Easily my favorite hunting memory of all, by a long shot.

It sucks big time that he is gone but, he died doing what he loved. He spent his last day alive hunting with two of his best friends, and I can't really imagine him wanting much of anything different. I've got a lot of cool old photos on slides that I need to get scanned in someday, but haven't had the time to get a scanner.

His passing caused me to take a greater love and appreciation of the outdoors, and has consequently got me to hunt and fish as much as I possibly can. Being in the woods we used to hunt, or on his favorite trout stream makes me feel "closer" to him, as if he's kinda looking over my shoulder. For those of you that still have your dads, you're very lucky, and I'd say cherish the moments you have to the fullest while you still can.

Here's a picture of a picture, of I believe the last turkey he killed.

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.

To have one tiny little morsel of memory of one trip afield with one of these dads counts as very, very lucky. Mine was handicapped as well...but even after a hunting accident with major leg damage he still killed a deer from a wheelchair.

He gutted it too. lol

I agree it's hard to hunt afterwards....and the first time I took an animal after he passed away I just stood there and wondered who I would call to tell. Then I cried.

My dad doesn't hunt. But he still comes to camp just to hang out with me...that is better than any hunt I've been on yet, and probably ever will.

Sharpnel, is that a Shilo Sharps in the picture of the buffalo? What caliber?

GB

Mule Deer,

Dad was a bad example. I wouldn't have traded him for anyone else, but he taught me plenty of bad habits. I taught Hunter Ed for several years before I learned how many of the methods I had learned were incorrect.

My first buck deer was shot on a road in the headlights of a car. We hurried up and threw him in the trunk of my cousin's 1962 Ford Fairlane and sped off down the dirt road, right past my Aunt's turnoff. I asked him why we didn't turn in to my Aunt's lane and he told me he didn't want anyone seeing the headlights go to my Aunt's house.

I didn't understand until some years later that it wasn't legal to shoot deer in the dark. I always thought if my dad did it, it was right.

Another time we were shooting deer from a road and a pickup came speeding our way and the guy got out, yelling and screaming at us. I looked at dad in wonderment as he told the guy he would shoot wherever he felt like shooting. I couldn't believe what a jerk that guy was.

Dad always smoked and when he got older, he burned holes in the seat of my truck from his cherry off the cigarette. I hated that, but I also knew that someday I would miss him and forget how much I hated the smoke.

All to soon that time has come, he died in 2004 at 94 years old. I sure do wish we could head over to the Musselshell again and chase mule deer around. Those were captivating experiences I will never forget.

It is a Shiloh, one of the first 49 built here in Montana. Last year I put a vintage scope on it and chased this antelope over a mile and shot somewhere near a box of ammo before bagging the critter. It is a 45-70 and as with all guns, you need to know the distance and what adjustment you need to make accordingly.



I keep an original "Cooper" 1874 Sharps with barrel sights on it for my buffalo hunts now.

My dad was killed in 1986 while we were logging. It sucked then and still sucks now.We did a lot of hunting and fishing together. I miss him every day.
Fortunately I was blessed with a fantastic grandfather and an uncle who has been my second father. We manage to hunt every year together, though we live 650 miles apart. We talk on the phone every other day or so. My favorite guns are an old 16ga side by side Ward's Western Field that was my dad's first shotgun and a 1903 Springfield in .280 Rem that my uncle built for shooting Nationals in the early 70's.
I lost my grandfather in 1998. I have the rack from the last buck he shot hanging in my house. It is a little forked horn that was kind enough to stand broadside at 30 yds until Grandpa could get ready and shoot it. His eyes weren't too sharp towards the end. I still remember the grin on his face from that last buck.
It's amazing the impact that a good father has on a son. I always try to keep that in mind myself.

Wow, I can't even imagine my dad (or mom) not being here. He's 62 and in great shape. Hopefully I don't have to worry about this for a long...long...long time.

To you guys and gals that have lost parents, I feel for you from the bottom of my heart!

I don't want to even think about losing my mom...I've been so close to her over the years, especially after dad died. I don't know how I'm going to be able to handle it when its her time.

Lost mine in 86 when he was 71 years of age. I was the youngest but not the favorite (I never played those games with my kids), he gave the favored son many nice guns and took him hunting all the time in the early years which crushed me but I never told a single person. When he got old he and I finally became somewhat casual friends and hunted together a little after the other brothers found new interests. He taught me many lessons, lots of bad ones and a few good ones. After all that, I still miss him every day.

To all,

I have enjoyed reading each of your stories so much and I hope more of you write theirs.

My dad passed away in 1993 at the age of 83. I have mentioned before how he was a 'gun' mentor to myself and my friends. He took us places when other parents did not.

Another memorable part of my dad's long life was his work. We lived fairly well because he worked all of the time. I never saw him sitting in front of the TV for more than a moment even though he was crippled later from arthritis.

When I stopped over my mom and dads house he would be in the basement working on something. Even after he could not drive that well in his late 70's his employer sent someone to the house every day to take him to work. He worked full time until he was 79 and part time until he died.

He would be up til about 10:30 PM each night in his workshop in the basement where he had his lathe and other machine tools. I would come down the stairs and ask him what he was doing and he would be there by the vise with some metal part in his hand.

He would turn to greet me with that eye loupe clamped to his glasses and his face and eyes would light up with joy as he described how he had worked out how to make that part even better. His hands were so strong that ........

If you say your prayers and are very lucky, by the time your father can't help you with your questions anymore, you can start going to your son. Life is good.

My dad passed in June this year. October 13 was the first first day of duck season we were not hunting together since 1967, man was it hard. Our deer season opens in 14 days and i don't expect it to be any easier. I am lucky to have a son, a daughter, and a step son who hunt with me as much as they can. I sure do love the time with them, but i miss my dad more than words can tell. Love ya dad. Great thread Guy