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How did you take up hunting?

Grew up craving hunting. Always bought magazines and read about it but nobody in my family was interested in it. Loved the idea of archery hunting.

At 32 years old and newly married we were driving through our new town and passed an archery shop. I went in out of curiosity. After I came out I was telling my wife about longbows, and how I’ve always wanted to do it.

She said “you should go in there and buy a bow and go hunting”.

That’s how I started hunting deer with a wooden longbow in San Diego. I don’t think I could have set myself more of a challenge, ha!
 
My dad was a hunter and his dad before him. He had to juggle four boys and shift work so it was tough getting out together. Dad bought me a great hunting dog and pretty much let me run with it on my own from age 12 (which was not entirely legal). I have been hunting alone with dogs ever since.
 
At the age of seven, while visiting our grandfater at his lake cabin my dad took his dad's 20 ga single shot and me out back and I shot a squirrel. No license, no knowledge of seasons, lol.
I was hooked. I had a single shot Ithaca .22 lever action my dad had bought me and would shoot it on occasions also.
By the age of eight, I was hunting squirrels and rabbits on my own and got my two little brothers into hunting. Dad would find an old beater shotgun or .22 at a sale on occasion and bring it home for us to use. Duck hunted a couple times with dad and his buddies, and then I started taking lil. brothers duck hunting.
By the time I was ten, I decided I wanted to kill a deer, even though they were pretty rare in the early seventies. Missouri had a nine-day bucks only season. I remembered seeing deer tracks about three miles from the house where we used to pick blackberries and dad secured permission for me to hunt deer there.
I would have my mother run me down there and drop me off after school every day and I would walk in, climb a tree and sit on a limb until dark, then she would pick me up at dark. On the last day of the deer season, right before dark I was crying and asking God why he would not reward me for all the work I had put in. I had not seen a deer in the whole nine days. At last light a beautiful eight point basket-racked buck went walking to a creek crossing about two hundred yards away.
I had an open-sight model 94 30-30 and emptied all seven rounds at that deer! Hit him in the ear, the neck, the gut and the chest as he ran... but I got him. I ran over and gutted him (just like a squirrel, right?).
Mom pulled up at our preplanned pick up point at dark like she had done for nine day prior. Another hunter from across the road had heard all the shooting and had come to check things out. He helped drag the deer the three-hundred yards to the road.
That buck was big news back then. Hardly anybody had seen deer, much less, killed one.
I still have the rack somewhere.
Have been hunting hogs, deer, rabbit, squirrel, frogs, quail, partridge, pheasant, grouse, turkey, whitetail, mule deer, elk, and antelope since. In a couple of weeks I will go for my first bear.
It has been a great ride with many, many awesome sights and memories.
 
I was born 20 miles East of Oakland California. I cannot change that as much as I advocate for, and admire Montana and the GYE. I was one of maybe a dozen white kids in elementary, and one of 4 in middle school. Although I spent those years looking up to bad people and doing bad things, my Dad raised me in my mothers absence, taking me fishing; sometimes super early when I wasn’t prepared. In California all we would see is does, and can’t shoot them, but he’d let me shoot my Lil Sioux kids recurve at the rabbits and I’d have fun. Since I was single digits my dad taught me the proper vocab for firearm components on revolvers semi auto handguns, rifle musket and traditional archery.. the importance of safety and supervision. When I was 14 I got expelled from the second school (for a lock-back knife). BILLION Dodge paid for my family to move here including travel expense and first/last months rent, as he is masters certified in hella fields something like 1:12 in the nation with cert. My first day at school in MT, not only do these kids all have knives clipped on their pockets, they GOT RIFLES IN THE BACK WINDOW!? The Irony.. So my dad met a dude at work that told him he’d get us our first elk, and sure as the sun is hot, he did. I remember I was so cold from the blood and the wind and snow, the guy kept making me crawl into the elk thawing my 4 layers of sleeves only for the time they were inside the body cavity.. I think it was the same year, my dad got his first buck, and I quit hunting entirely.. it wasn’t until about 5 years ago, shortly after the birth of my oldest son, did I get back into it.. This will be only my 3rd year with a bow hunting license. I’m thankful to say that both of my kids were born here and I’m proud to say I will never leave. My kids know more now about harvesting their own food, building and breaking camps, fire, water and preservation than I would have ever learned if not for moving here. I got kind of emotional writing this, thank you for helping me to relive these memories. Thank you, Dad. God Bless Montana lol
 
My grandpa was an avid hunter, my dad was always a hunter and I was just obsessed with it from a young age. Elementary school days me and my best friend would take our pellet guns out and squirrel hunt all the time. We skinned them and stretched and salted the hides ha ha. Weird kids. It’s just been a part of my life forever. At 55 I am kinda slowing down but still hunt something most months of the year. My son is now 19 and hunts and fishes just as much or more than I did at that age. Sometimes I wonder if it’s not just a genetic thing. My 2 daughters haven’t
got into hunting much ,however, but they were always barrel racing and doing horse stuff with there mom. It was so easy just to take my son along as he was the oldest and manic about hunting like his dad. I wish I would have been more intentional on introducing my girls to it. They just don’t have the same level of interest and are teenagers now. It’s just been a way of life and part of life forever for me.
 
I grew up 30 miles in the middle of nowhere on a natural gas plant where my dad worked. My parents were not hunters Or even had a gun to their name. My mom would take me fishing just so I’d quit asking to go and she liked eating fish. I had to do everything though as she wouldn’t touch worms or fish

I spent every minute outside and playing down at the creek. We had a couple other families that lived out there that always hunted. I always like going over to their garage when they got home from hunting. Always watched hunting on Saturday morning when it would come on tv before I headed outside.

After lots of begging I got a BB gun for Christmas one year. Probably the only kid to toast the barrel on a BB gun. When I was 8 my grandpa gave me a browning 12 gauge. He did lots of trap shooting and a little bird hunting but that was it. I shot so many clay pigeons with that thing

By 11 years old my parents knew there was no convincing me otherwise so they took me in to hunters safety. One of my uncles took me my first year out and let me borrow his 30-30.

My second year my grandpa gave me a New England firearms 7mm-08 and I bought a Lee reloading kit and started taking our 4wheeler out hunting. I’m still not sure how at 13 years old I managed to drag deer and antelope but I did it. That winter I killed enough coyotes with that 7mm-08 to buy a New England firearm 223 and some traps.

I used that 7mm-08 and 223 for a couple year’s until I got a drivers license and could get a job on a local ranch. That’s when my rifle loonism really took off. I bought a savage 30-06 that year.

The following year I started buying the ershaw rebarreling kits for the savage. I had a 338-06,25-06, and a 22.250 barrel for it. It has been a downhill run since then.

My parents always supported my hunting addiction and I was lucky to grow up where I did as I don’t if I would be into it as much as I am if I had grew up in town. Mom use to make me only cook my deer and antelope on the bbq grill or on a hot plate in the garage because she wasn’t letting it in her house. I even had my own freezer I bought with my fur money for my hides and deer and antelope meat.

There are lots a people that wonder if I was adopted
 
My dad only went deer hunting a couple times when I was small. I like listening to my great uncle Wally WW1 vet talk of his hunting trips as a kid. I ended up getting his red/black plade hunting jacked and paints. I grew into somewhat .
Dad bought me a 22mag over under 20 ga. Savage. I got really good with One Shot One Kill. In JHS my best friend and I went hunting rabbit with Phil's 12years oldest brother . We still hunt together. He shot his 3rd bird last week. Hard to imagine we're almost 70 and still enjoying hunting life
 

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It was 1957 and I was 12, growing up in the farm country of Lancaster County, Pennsylvania around all the Amish farms which were only a short bicycle ride from my house. In those days, in Pennsylvania, there were a lot of native pheasants and I used to see them when I worked on the farm. The one farmer had an old bolt action shotgun hanging in the barn and I kept looking at it thinking that one day I might like to go into the corn fields to hunt pheasants. So, I convinced my father and he went to a local hardware store and bought us two Remington model 870 Wingmaster .12 gauge shotguns. That fall we went pheasant and rabbit hunting and I shot my first pheasant.
In 1964, with a Winchester .32 Winchester Special, I started deer hunting in the mountains of Pa. and since then only missed the four years that I was in the Navy. Nowadays, I am pretty much back to only hunting stocked pheasants on state game lands where the Pennsylvania Game Commission stocks them. The days of native pheasants here are long gone.
 
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No family history. I read the book American Rifle - A Biography, and The MeatEater by Steven Rinella, and the rest is history. I moved from NJ to a much more hunting and firearms friendly state within months of finishing those reads, specifically for this purpose.
 
No family history. I read the book American Rifle - A Biography, and The MeatEater by Steven Rinella, and the rest is history. I moved from NJ to a much more hunting and firearms friendly state within months of finishing those reads, specifically for this purpose.
Yes, I know all about New Jersey’s gun laws. Less than desirable.
 
My dad was a Jersery boy who went hunting a couple times.
My best friend oldest brother took us out with 22s to shoot rabbits when we were 9. Dad encouraged me to hunt, at 11 yo heboughtme a 22mag / 20 ga. Savage. Rest is history. I tought myself deer hunting and was very good at it. I've taught my 3 boys.
My granddaughter wants to go turkey hunting next year she's 7. I'll have my grand son out by the time he's 5.
 
It was mid 60's and I would always admire the guns in the local gun shop in Castro Valley CA. One day I asked the counter guy to see one. He was a young guy in early 20s . We struck up a conversation about things in general. He was a medical student, working part time jobs paying for school and helping support his wife and young daughter. Somehow we got to where he invited me to go hunting ducks with him. It sort of snowballed from there. Many thanks to Tim. Unfortunately we lost touch 30 years ago.
 
It was the 90s and my great aunt had just died leaving me a small fortune, along with the secret family recipe for doughnuts. I opened an eponymously named doughnut shop to help support my large Irish-French family. Soon I found my self embroiled in costly trademark disputes with Dunkin Donuts, Hostess, and most hurtfully, famed 90s one-hit-wonder Duncan Sheik. Now unable to afford even a tube of Great Value ground chuck, I was forced to take up subsistence hunting.
 
It was the 90s and my great aunt had just died leaving me a small fortune, along with the secret family recipe for doughnuts. I opened an eponymously named doughnut shop to help support my large Irish-French family. Soon I found my self embroiled in costly trademark disputes with Dunkin Donuts, Hostess, and most hurtfully, famed 90s one-hit-wonder Duncan Sheik. Now unable to afford even a tube of Great Value ground chuck, I was forced to take up subsistence hunting.
:(No one has ever left me anything......but I DO like donuts :):)
 
No one really STARTED hunting when I was a kid. It's just what you did.
I was out "Hunting" in diapers and could hardly walk yet. Stayed by the car with mom or grandma waiting to see what everyone came back with, Birds, ducks, deer, whatever. I remember the smell of fresh shot-shotshell hulls.
It still takes me back whenever I pick one up and smell it.
That was well over 65 years ago. My kids, grandkids are the same.
I remember that first year after receiving a Benjamin Pump for Christmas. Started out sitting under fig trees shooting birds that came in to eat the figs then graduated to stalking rabbits in the pastures.
 
Grandparents had a 350 plus acre farm in the midwest growing up. Fondest memories of my life were sitting on a bucket in a homemade tree stand waiting for a big ol white tail to come cruising through pushing some does out of a thicket. I didnt realize how fortunate I was at the time, was just kinda how it was.. until it wasnt anymore. Then I took to hunting public land, and just got deeper and deeper into it and eventually was drawn to the western skies. That is the jist of it anyhow.
 
Brought up ''old school'' by my GRANDAD...in quebec canada....on an island,. no running water except the pump outside....no electricity.....outhouse was, well, OUT BACK !! grandad was a vet of ww1. Black Watch.......6 yrs old,shot rats by his peigon coup with a .22.at 8,I wandered the ''bush'' popping an occasional grouse / snowshoe rabbit.........at 12,I had an IVER JOHNSON 12GA. ....back then, most neighbors were vets,some hunted ,more did not.......76 now,Still hunt grouse.....figured I have done in my share of big critters........
local game wardens just posted up a notice by our winter cabin.......a salmon river behind the cabin and the ocean,5 minute walk away. life is good IMG_0654.JPGIMG_0681.JPG
 
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