my best hunting memory is my dad wakeing me up before day light, on those cool frosty mornings in oct in w.va the first day of hunting season in the early 1960,s. was in my teens then. we would walk around that old trail on the side of the mountain, holding on to that old 12 ga shotgun like it was a 5,000$ custom deer rifle. he would set me down under a big old hickory tree & said he would be back later to check on me. sitting there & watching the sun come up over the mountains & looking at the colors of fall & waiting for a hickory limb to shake, my dad would come back every now & then to check on me & we would talk for a while. after the viet-nam war i came back home and my dad had heart problems, but i would take him hunting with me to a place where he could get to with out much walking. i would set him down in a good spot & told him i would be back to check on him. little did he know i was only 50 Or 60 yds away watching to make sure he was ok, after a while i would come back & we would talk & have a chew of beech nut chewing tobacco. he would tell me how proud of me he was for serving my country & tell me a little bit about the beaches of normandy & i told him he was the real hero in my eyes. my dad died in my arms in 1992 in the hospital bed in beckley w.va. every time i go in the woods now on those cool frosty mornings i stop & think of my father & thank him for being a dad & spending time with me & learning me that the best things in life are free. he was & is still my best friend.

368741
ac 3004x4

 

368741, your post makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up!
My favorite hunting memory is when I had my 7 year old daughter sitting on my lap in a turkey blind and we could see a big Gobbler entering the field about 300 yards down from us. He didnt come our way at first and we were both disapointed but I continued to call. He went away into the timber but about 20 minutes later he pop out about 100 yards away and saw our decoy and was coming in fast. It was all I could do not to get to shook and whisper to her to get down on the gun. When it got to 20 yards she nailed it and we both jumped up and I about came unglued! We spent the next few hours driving around showing people her bird. It was a great day. Memorys last for ever!![img]i/expressions/face-icon-small-happy.gif[/img]

 

The first time I saw a bull elk with a royal rack standing at the top of a mountainside meadow bugling down to the valley. I was with my father and favorite uncle, both now deceased, on horseback downwind at the bottom of the meadow in the tree edge, about 200-yards away from the bull. That one will always stick in my mind.

 

This past year being my first, I only have a few memories stored up for now. My favorite is just being in the woods with all the guys, driving for eachother and just having a good old time. It's awesome having them all there when you finally get something too, they're all great. Can't wait for this year, there's getting to be some monsters around here lately, hopefully I'll have a better story than forgetting my gun in my stand. lol

 

Well my best memory came this past spring. This year will be my 6th year out deer hunting, and next spring will be my 4th year turkey hunting. I do not have an overabundance of experience, but with the little I have had, one tops the list by far. THis past spring I had the privlage of calling in and taking a longbeard. That is probably my proudest accomplishment by far. Even over the 11 point I shot 3 seasons ago.

 

That absolutely brings tears to my eyes.

 

I have many fond, funny, and grand memories over my 30-some years of hunting, so I'll just pick one out that comes to mind.

Opening morning upland bird season, about 1977. My dad, me, and his brother and my cousin Scott always met in Wilbur Wa to chase roosters. We pick this draw out, and the wheatfield goes up over a hill where there is more brush on the backside. Scott and I, ever full of youthful **** and vinegar, decide to take the backside, hunt it out around to the front and meet the Dads there. We always tell them we are kicking their butts and they are buying steaks.

We get over the hill and are working this large draw, and hear boom-ba-boom-boom off in the distance, buncha shots. We work this whole draw and kick up one rooster and knock him down. Pay dirt baby we're already ahead. We get back around the hill and Dad and Ike are back at the truck relaxin'. We ask what all the shots were, they said aw some guys over there in that field shootin things up, not hitting nothing. We hold up our prize rooster and tell them they are gonna end up buying steaks by the end of the day.

Well Dad says oh, by the way, and opens the door to the truck and they start throwin' birds out on the ground. We stand there slack jawed and they just about have a limit of birds, laughing like hell at us young runners who cover miles at a time while the old wise codgers pick a good piece of brush and get lucky.

I sure miss hunting with the Dads, they're still around but done in the field, and my cousin Scott and I continue the upland opening tradition every year that we started in 1974.

 

Great stories guys.[img]i/expressions/face-icon-small-smile.gif[/img]

 

I have many and hope to have many more to come.The best of course include my 11 year old. It is amazing the small details "after the hunt" he remembers!!! If he see's a deer, he will remember the time and what the weather was like! I think he is so into "it" that he absorbs every detail. I also have a 7yr old son who goes with us to scout and put up stands. He does come some to sit in the stand, but the 11 yr old has shot 3 bucks so far! I have had my fun with hunting so I really turn the "moment" over to them. I hope the tradition continues with their kids.

I can remember him trembling(which we ALL do) when he was about to shoot his first deer! I can remember the excitement that he had to run into town to check it in! He want everyone to see it!!! Its hard to type these kind of responses w/o stopping to think of all the good times and not tear up!

Cant imagine hunting without my sons!

 

Great memories guys.
Mine start like many of you. I could not ait to be old enough to get to go on the hunting trips with dad and the guys. He would leave early in the morning and come home late at night. Hunting season was the time of the year he was happiest. We were very poor and he worked 2 or 3 jobs year round just to put food on the table. Any deer we got was "meat on the table" for the winter. In NY you have to be 16 to hunt deer and my first year I had no luck. Not even a sighting (commen in NY back then). My second season was much better though. My dad and I got a little late start on Friday the day after Thanksgiving. We were at our spot at sunrise and had to walk in. We walked the ridge back and split up to go to our watches. I was in some thick pines where I could only see 40 yards at most. We were in a shotgun only area. Around 8 I saw a deer coming towards me and it put it's head down for a bite. It was a BUCK! It continued to feed away from me and it was the moment of truth. Either shoot or it would vanish. I pulled up my 12 gauge single shot and put the bead behind the shoulder and BOOM! The deer jumped and took off out of sight. I stood there staring at where I had last seen him. My dad came over and asked what happened. I told him the story and he asked which way he ran. I pointed to where I had last seen the deer. He went over to the spot and looked at the blood in the snow. He looked around and said, "Today you are going to learn how to recover a deer." He called me over and said, "This is going to be a tough tracking job." He said make sure you find the next drop of blood before you leave the one you're at, or we could just walk 30 yards over there to your deer[img]i/expressions/face-icon-small-smile.gif[/img] It hadn't gone 30 yards but I couldn't see it from the pines. I don't think I ever in my entire life saw my dad smile any bigger or wider than when we put our hands on my first buck. That was 22 years ago. He passed away Feb 4, 2005. He had turned 61 in January. I miss him dearly every day and wish I could hug him. My youngest brother hunts and never got a buck while my dad was alive. Last season was our first without dad. I watched a bear walk into my brother's stand and saw him make his first bow kill on Oct 4, 2005. On Nov 21,2005 I watched him shoot his first buck. A very nice 8 point buck. Later that season on Dec 1 I shot an 8 point buck. I knw dad was sitting right there with us and my brother and I jumped ofr joy and then both cried our eyes out with each animal. I miss my dad and I loved him.