Happy Father's Day

Big Fin

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Since I will be out of town on Sunday, I figured I would start this thread today. I suspect many of us were influenced by our fathers, when we think of who brought us to the world of hunting and fishing.

My Dad loved to hunt. Fishing, interested him a little bit, but chasing whitetails in the thick woods of Northern Minnesota is what he lived for. Those two weeks were always a special time for him.

He fought the demons of the bottle for most of his life, eventually losing that battle. But, when deer season came around, the demons had no control over him; he was a different man. He would go around town scrounging up every spare rifle he could find, trying to match some ammunition, sighting them in for the the kids who would be using them, and making sure every kid who wanted to go deer hunting knew to get in touch with him the week before season opened.

Opening morning at his house looked like a scene out of "John Wayne and the Cowboys;" a bunch of kids from 12 to 16, different sizes and maturity, some with their own rifles and some waiting to see which loaner my Dad would give them, all dressed in some hand-me-downs from a brother or uncle, each carrying a sack lunch, all with eyes big in anticipation of what stand my Dad was going to drop them off at.

One by one, he would load us in his van and make sure everyone had a license, their hunter saftey card, a compass, and something to eat. Then, he would drive a loop around a big piece of ground he knew very well, stopping every half mile to grab one kid, and by the light of his Ray-O-Vac, lead them to the deer stand he had built, get them situated, and leave them to sit until daylight came, warning them not to leave until he came to get them sometime later that day. He would then park his van, and about daylight, start beating the bush, walking many miles in a path that took him by each stand, checking on each kid throughout the day, hoping to push a deer to one of them.

I cannot image doing that in today's world. First of all, I think few people would trust anyone enough to send their kids hunting with the neighbor, especially if they know he has a half-dozen of these tenderfoots in his group. I am not sure any adult today would want the liability that comes with hauling a bunch of kids out to the woods, knowing if Johnny got so much as a sliver in his hand, the hovering parent might have the police over to visit you.

But, that is how it was in Big Falls in the 1970s, and probably in many other places of the country. And I, and some other kids who got to go hunting, thank God for that.

It was frustrating as a kid to have to share your dad with a half dozen, or more, neighborhood kids during hunting season. He and I were not that close to start with, but hunting season was a time when all was well, when I learned how much fun he could be, and what a great mentor he was when he was sober. We enjoyed our hunting time together immensely.

Now, when I go back home to the little town of Big Falls, many guys my age stop me and tell me how important it was that my Dad worked so hard to see that they got to go hunting, either with him, or with some guy he talked into taking a kid out hunting. To this day, they are all hunters, who might otherwise not have been. Even after I moved away, he was always looking for some kid who might need some help to get out in the woods.

So, I can say without any doubt, if my Dad was not such a passionate hunter, so committed to getting kids out in the woods, I would not be a hunter. At the time I did not understand what he was up to. Now, years later, I wish I had understood and could have helped him more in that effort. And it was through hunting, that I came to see what my Dad was like when he was at his best, giving me great appreciation for him, providing me better insight to his struggles, and learning a lot along the way.

A pic from Father's day, 1977. One of the few pics I have of us together. Cameras were never a high priority in our family. Thanks, Dad.

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I hope many of you still have your Dad around, allowing you to hunt together, albeit maybe not as vigorously as you once did. Do not take it for granted. As some of us can attest, when he is gone, hunting season is different without him.

Happy Father's Day to all the Dads out there.
 
Great piece Randy! My dad and I go on a big hunt either where I'm stationed or back to Montana for Wapiti every other year or so. Neither of us ever fill a tag when together, but we're not really concerned so much about that anyway. I pray I can be the example my dad was for our two kids.
 
Happy Father's Day to Big Skip...miss him every day.



Late brother Jimmy didn't really care for hunting but he'd go with me and pretend to. Gone too soon.

 
I hope many of you still have your Dad around, allowing you to hunt together, albeit maybe not as vigorously as you once did. Do not take it for granted. As some of us can attest, when he is gone, hunting season is different without him.
Folks please take that sentence to heart. I passed on too many trips with my Dad 'cause he couldn't do it how I wanted to do it at the time. He was only 58 when he passed. Not a moment goes by when I don't wish I'd have taken more time and made more of an effort to go hunting/fishing with him.

Thanks for the tribute to your father Randy. Sounds like quite a Man.
 
I am lucky enough to still have my dad around and we do a annual antelope hunting trip every year. We only shoot does but i can say i have more fun on this trip than any other.

Happy Fathers Day to all you dads out there.
 

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Good story! Let me take a swing at this.
I was adopted by my dad in the early summer of 1978(pretty sure of the date). Later that fall we went on our first elk hunt in Northern Idaho's North Fork area. For the first time in my life my parents were not beating my ass for missing school, but rather, encouraging it. And they gave me a gun.

We drug an old trailer to his spot he had shared with friends on previous trips-now he had me so things would have to be different for him. Reduced beer consumption, increased effort and less success.

We built a fire and he let me boil some freshwater muscles for dinner.I learned a boy could probably eat a turd with butter and salt, but not a muscle.

We hunted hard and never saw an elk. We smelled them, We heard them. We pursued them. We dreamed of them. In a week we saw 1 bear and no elk of deer.

Back in school the next week I told dozens of lies. Monster bulls that bugled so close to me in tight quarters that my ears hurt, Missed shots that lesser men might not have attempted, etc.

I learned on that first hunt that kippered snacks are great treats in the cool Autumn timber. I learned that ice cold water from a crisp running stream does not always give you the squirts.

We drove some old logging roads listening to an old Willie Nelson 8 track and when that got boring we put in Roger Whittaker. Even now, almost 40 years later, simply hearing one of these old songs will instantly transport me back to a country road with an old man in a K-5 blazer.

Every father influences his children in mundane and profound ways. Fathers who teach their children to hunt and fish-as my father did-carry that responsibility a few extra steps. Those extra paces have defined the type of man I am today.

Thanks Dad, Happy Fathers' Day.


And thanks to Randy for providing an open forum for us to express our gratitude.
 
Fathers Day

I know a lot of you have seen this, but please indulge. Dad at 90 still helping out. Has been gone three years now and not a day goes by that we don't wish he was still here. Love them while you have them.

 
Love you and miss you Pops...

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My main motivation for “elk camp” is so that I get to continue to hunt with my Dad. Between college, moving to the east coast, moving back to the west coast we didn’t get to hunt together for several years. He’s 69, a fused back and a fake hip and for sure his hunting days are numbered. This has fueled me more than the potential of sitting behind the rack of a 350” bull. When my son was born in 2010 I planned a pig hunt while my Dad was here, and I got to help him get his first pig. In 2011 I won a trip through the RMEF to hunt Northern BC and my first question was whether or not I could bring a guest and our outfitter let him have my moose tag so he got his first moose. Finally last year, after a couple awesome reasons not to have elk camp we headed to MT. To boot, I finally convinced my brother to come and bring his son….for the first time we had three generations hunting together and wouldn’t you know it but the old man was the first to notch his tag.





 
I have posted it here before, but I will post it again. My father is the best partner a guy could ask for. I sure hope he and I get to have many more adventures. And I hope my kids will look forward to hunting with me the way I look forward to it with my father. First photo is me and my pops from last year. The second is me and my youngest from last year as well on his first hunt. Happy Fathers day to all of you.
 

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Greatest hunting moment I've ever been a part of was calling this Montana moose in for my Dad in
2010. Was an unbelievable experience to be able to return the favor he did for me by teaching me to hunt. If it hadn't been for his patience and the well deserved ass kickings I recieved, I wouldn't have been half the man I am today. Thankfully my Father is young at 65, considering I am 46 and soon to be 47, so I plan to take advantage of as many more hunting memories as possible. Happy Fathers Day Dad.
 

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Good stuff!

My dad was a rabid elk hunter, we'd spend countless days chasing elk, and countless more packing in and out... we never really hunted anything else. He didn't car to eat deer or antelope, so we didn't hunt them. I know he's enjoyed hunting with me since I moved from MT, and has gone on many out of state hunts that I know he wouldn't have never done if I hadn't prodded and planned them. He taught me more than I can remember about game meat preparation, horse packing, fishing, and more. He's coming up to kill some fish next month. Can't wait to hang with him for a week in gods country!
 

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I would like to thank my dad. Fortunately I can still spend some time hunting with him.

Although he was never a big game hunter, he got me started by hunting cottontails and later, upland birds. Still to this day, hunting is not hunting unless I have the truck radio tuned to some local AM radio station playing some old time country music!

I can still remember the first deer I ever killed. I came back to town to pick him up so he could help me haul her out. Neither of us knew anything about field dressing a deer, but I did it. We then proceeded to lash together the legs of the deer and slide a boat oar through the legs. The oar rested on our shoulders as we hauled her out like some woodsmen! (because we saw pics of this). Let's neglect the fact that this was western ND.

We weren't big on pics either and don't have any of us on those childhood hunts. But I still have them pictured in my head.
 
My father C. Robert Taylor brought six children and all our friends into the world of hunting and conservation. We miss him dearly in our fall hunting camps. His ashes are in the Colorado mountains with the elk he hunted with gusto. We still use his old white pickup to retrieve antelope, deer and elk in Wyoming.

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This will be the first Father's Day without my Dad. He went to his reward this past October, aged 98 yrs, and the hole he is leaving will never be filled for me. At age 8 I got my BB gun which did me for three years, not a migrating songbird was safe for miles around, but he was firm about Cardinals, Mockingbirds and Purple Martins being strictly off limits. At 11 I got my Iver Johnson Champion in 410; squirrels, rabbits and doves were now on the menu, and I wore them out! At 14 I got my 16 gauge autoloader and moved up with the big boys, killing my first whitetail the fall of my freshman year, shooting quail behind a good pointer, and many rabbit chases with uncles, cousins and Grandfathers.
All the while I was being prepared for many joint hunting and fishing experiences, but the times we spent in the Colorado Rockies after elk and muleys were the greatest times for my Dad. In his late 60's and coming from sealevel to 10K feet, Dad couldn't hump those mountains like I did, so we tried to get him to an advantageous spot with minimum effort and hope for the best. He never did get his elk, but the experience was the real mission, elk were secondary.
Those days are gone for me now, experiences are now grist for stories to tell the younger set, but I can replay them in my mind ad infinitum.
 
My Dad was never much of a hunter but he always encouraged my interests in the outdoors. Now as a father myself I realize how hard he worked to take care of 5 kids and Mom. I remeber him working all night and then getting home and going to help many of the widows in our small town. He still does that today. He taught me how to work hard and see the good in people. He is my greatest hero and example. I hope he is around for a long time because I don't know what I would do without him. I hope to be half the Father he is someday. Happy Father's Day to everyone.
 
Happy Fathers Day!
My Dad started my love of the outdoors and it passed down to the next generation as well.
Me, Dad, & Michael with Michaels first elk
 

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Here's my Dad, driving the '52 in '59.

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He wasn't a big game hunter (other than farming under the Rimrocks!), but did hunt pheasants. Always encouraged my big game inclinations, though...
Miss ya, Dad.
 
I was actually blessed with two great dads in my life. My real father has a love for the outdoors and has passed that on to all of us kids. I'm really the only one that got the hunting bug like him but my brothers will occasionally go but I think its more for the gathering then the actual hunting. We grew hunting and fishing with him and to this day that is our bond together. He will be up here in Colorado hunting elk again this archery season and hopefully I will get to help him take his first. Last year was his first time but due to timing of my daughter's back surgery I had to miss it. He saw some elk but passed on a couple shot for fear of getting the elk off the mountain without me there. So this will be the year I hope. When I was around 3 my married a man who has been in my life ever since and has been about the best step dad anyone could ask for. He doesn't hunt but is more of a worker and take nice family getaways type. This different type a living has lead me places I might not have ever seen and He has shown me how important family and connection really is. I love them both and am very thankful to have them both in my life. Hopefully for a long time to come!
 

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