Happy Dad's Day

noharleyyet

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...or as I try to coax it at my house...Happy Father's Week.

Enjoy the pampering.
 
These threads are always cool. If you have pics, post something of your Father/Dad. Can be hunting related, or not.

Cameras were a luxury in our family. A friend too this on Father's Day in 1977. One of the few pics I have of me and my Dad together.

Randy Delbert 1976.jpg

I suspect I speak for most of us who have lost our Fathers, when I suggest that all of you who still have you Father around, make sure you let him know he is, and has been, important to you. Do something with him, no matter what it is; just something. Some day will come when that opportunity is no longer there and you would give all the money in your pocket for one more day on the dock fishing bluegills and solving the world's problems.
 
I've hunted with my Dad 9 out of the last 9 years. Going for 10 this year. Yes, his shot hit the mark.
 

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Happy Father's Day to all of you out there!


My son and I enjoying the company of my father on a deer hunt last year.

 
No pictures!

But my heart went thru the roof when my sweet girl called from Denver. Does a body good!
 
Big Finn, I hope the Finn Power t-shirt is still around. If not you should have a clone made. I've got an old tank top of my Dad's I wouldn't sell for anything. Great stuff.
 
Canyon creek, his favorite stream. Bighorn range, wyoming.
 

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These threads are always cool. If you have pics, post something of your Father/Dad. Can be hunting related, or not.

Cameras were a luxury in our family. A friend too this on Father's Day in 1977. One of the few pics I have of me and my Dad together.

View attachment 47789

I suspect I speak for most of us who have lost our Fathers, when I suggest that all of you who still have you Father around, make sure you let him know he is, and has been, important to you. Do something with him, no matter what it is; just something. Some day will come when that opportunity is no longer there and you would give all the money in your pocket for one more day on the dock fishing bluegills and solving the world's problems.

This....exactly. My dad has been gone 17 years now......I miss him every day. Also, one thing I am mindful of is letting my kids take my picture as much as they want as I have very few photos of my dad.
 
Still miss pop's, he's been gone for 43 years, but he's not forgotten...

MY MENTOR

I would guess most of us had a mentor of some sorts who took our hand and walked us through the door leading to the wonderful world of hunting. Mine was my dad. Over the years I have often wondered if he did it to purposefully introduce me to that magical lifestyle or simply to have someone to accompany him, as I know he mostly hunted alone until I could follow along. It really doesn’t matter I guess, the outcome was still the same for me.

My earliest memories are of tromping through the fields chasing doves. I must have been a tender 5 or 6, but I still remember insisting to hold a double he took one morning. I cradled both birds in my small hands, the soft warm feathers filling my fingers with awe and wonder while etching the day and the Hunt deep inside my memory. It was but a hint of a lifestyle to come spanning several decades. I will be forever grateful to Pops for letting me tag along that particular path in life…

We, as hunters, often express our thoughts of what hunting means to us in many ways: To be in the woods with family and friends sharing the bounties and beauty of nature: The telling of stories long passed by others who touched our hunting lives over a crackling campfire the night before the hunt: Witnessing things in the forests and mountains that others couldn’t begin to dream of. Some who don’t hunt would say we could experience the same things with a camera instead of a gun or bow and arrow and not have to kill to do the same thing. I can understand where they might be coming from, but the thing is I don’t believe those folks really comprehend the “entire experience” we as hunters truly do.

Pops taught me at a very early age it would be up to ME to make sure I could continue to enjoy and even come to love the world of hunting. He instilled in me the truth that I must be the steward of my hunting realm, and do all those things necessary to take care of my quarry and their habitat in such a way as to respect and insure their existence. He taught me I HAD to do my part and not simply leave it in the hands of others and hope they would treat this great heritage as I would. Though I only had a few short years with him, I continue to live by his teachings, even though it has been nearly 5 decades.

I have watched the sun rise more times than I can remember, and so many of them have taken my breath away with their utter beauty. But none have been so wondrous as those I have witnessed while hunting. While hunting, dawn is not simply the herald of the morn: it is the herald that pumps the blood, quickens the nerves, and sharpens the eyes of the hunter! It brings with it anticipation of the days hunt, of what will or will not be. Whether there will be life or death by our own hand. Sure, that sounds a bit dramatic, but I think it’s true for the most part. It’s something the bird watcher or photographer simply can’t comprehend. I see the same beauty and animals that they do, but with different eyes…

One of my favorite times in the woods while hunting is what I call the “magic hour of silence”. First time I remember it was on a deer hunt with Pops, I must have been about 13 or 14. It always happens late morning, and always when I have stopped to rest, or to just simply take in my surroundings. I don’t know whether I am the cause, or if this magical time causes me to stop and take notice. The air becomes still and full, not so much as a leaf moves. One by one, the birds are silenced; the chipmunks and squirrels freeze like statues. The light seems to float on the air, misting through the trees like an apparition. My ears prick for the slightest sound but none comes. The silence is almost overwhelming. My eyes scan all around me but nothing moves. I can hear the soft rhythm of my heartbeat, and I too become as the forest, frozen and unyielding.

As quickly as it came, it departs with the first rustle of leaves; a soft breeze against my face; the chirp of a bird. The light becomes focused and true. I always smile when I stand and continue my hunt, knowing I have witnessed something special once again.

Thanks Pops, for showing me the way of the hunter…
 
from the first deer I remember him shooting while I was there..(sister was too) to his biggest Florida buck...to the Colorado high country last year...We don't always see eye to eye but hunting always seems to bring us back
 

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Last hunt I took with my dad in 2007. He died in Nov. 2008.


Miss him everyday, but especially during hunting season and baseball season. He lived a bit vicariously through me, I think, with some of the hunts I've done and I used to love to share the stories and pics with him. He was very much a baseball fan and was quite a player in his day. I would give most anything for him to see his two grandsons play one game...
 
I'm late to this thread. These are some of the more enjoyable threads.

Personally, I can't ask for a better example of what makes a man. I sure hope I am lucky enough to create a lot more memories like this one. Hope to see a lot more posts on this thread. Hope all of you had a memorable weekend.
 

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