Caribou Gear Tarp

The Good 'Ol Days

Hey Breaks Runner, I use to work with Bob Savage from Bozeman, do you know him? I saw your trapping picture and know he was big into that in that area.

John

Sorry for the late reply.....Bob is a very good friend of mine. Proud to say he mentored me in my younger days. One of the finest outdoorsman I've ever known.
 
Bob is also a friend of mine, visited with him in Jan. he is a wealth of knowledge for sure, I jsut wished I hadn't sold the bow he gave me back in the 70's
 
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My grandma sent me this picture a few months ago. Those of you that hunt or live in the Verde Valley Area (Arizona) should enjoy it.
 
This is my grand dad in SE Oklahoma in the 50's. He was a lineman and managed this ice house he is pictured in as well. This would of been very early in Oklahoma modern era deer season.

The other picture is me with his Savage 1899 in 303 savage on a doe management hunt a few years back in Kansas.

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This one is of my dad on the right and my cousin on the left during an annual pronghorn hunt in Wyoming in the very early sixties.

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Well, not from the 60's or 70's but here is a hunt from the late 80's. Back when you still actually had the meat pole instead of the hero shots we have now. It is from a MN Rifle hunt in Pine County. Back before the wolves ran the deer off the property. My best buck with a rifle and also one of the biggest ever shot on this property.
 

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A few more of my hunting excursions from my early years.
 

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My one and only chance of hunting the mountains, OYOA on public land.
 

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I love looking at old photos of hunting in the past. I have been comig to this site for quite some time and finaly decided to post something.

Here is a picture of me at 3 months with may dad.
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This one is me at 2 years old with my dad. You can see my little yellow arrow, for my first bow, by my feet.
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This last one is of me with my first rabbit. I hunted it on a DIY solo hunt at my grandparents farm. I was given a hard time for shooting a rabbit the day before Easter.

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The family lived in Kenya from '67-'70 when hunting was still legal. Dad was a veterinarian and joined the vet school faculty teaching large animal surgery. We went on a number of short to medium long hunting and/or photographic trips. I'm the one sitting on the eland, my dad is the one in the middle.
 

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Also from Kenya, c1970. Yellow necked francolin sniped with a.22/410 combo. Probably my first bird. My father is the adult on the left. He had the largest forearms of any man his size..... wrestling hay bales as a kid, and then wrestling large animals as a veterinarian. My sister is on the right. Happy day for a little kid taking his first wild game.
 

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Kansasdad,
Those are some sweet pics, do you have any more? Did you tag along on any of the big 5?

Dad did not take a rhino or lion while in Kenya, although we did get a "scratch" on a rear quarter panel of the VW microbus when the rhino decided he had had enough pictures taken while in Nairobi National Park. He did take a leopard over bait and also an elephant. The tusk I inherited is the "fighting" tusk. My brother has the "working" tusk that is missing a chunk of ivory from the PH shooting right after dad's perfect brain shot upended the elephant, throwing his head up into the air.

During our time in Kenya, DIY hunting was fairly easy. A block "rental" system was in place, so there was a controlled number of sportsmen out at any one time. Purchasing a hunting license had a list of plains game allowed, and then other animals could be added as special additions. Hunting any of the "Big 5" required the accompaniment of a professional hunter, until you had "proved-up" or shown proficiency on a certain animal. Dad proved up on Cape Buffalo and thus he hunted without a PH along. He went many times on animal control hunts for buffalo,taking me along a couple of times. When I went with him, it was with "buffalo dogs" used to follow a herd, bringing several of the "old boys" to bay, Once at bay, the dogs would rush in to nip at the heels of the bull, he would spin to try to hook the dog with his horn, or crush with his boss, and then a dog on the other side of the circle would lunge in, and eventually the bull would be spinning like a top. The thicker the cover the better for these bulls, so shooting would often consist of holding aim on a small opening, and when the black of the bull's hide crossed the opening, let fly. Dad had a .458 win mag for big game like buffalo. Farm raised and marine trained, he could easily get off 4 shots for every 2 of the PH's double barrel.

On one of these hunts, cutting the herds' trail across a firebreak line, letting the dogs out, and following along behind, we came close to where the buffalo was at bay. Not wanting to get his kid in harms way, Dad had me stop and climb partially up a termite mound, saying he would be back after the bull was down. From where I was sitting, I could easily hear the dogs barking, the buffalo bellowing, trees crashing and every so often, shots fired.


Imagination started working overtime as I imagined hearing a different buffalo just 30 feet away from where I sat on the termite mound...turns out happily that the "buffalo" noises in the adjacent thicket were really my heart pounding and heavy breathing from being on the herds trail, and the excitement of the hunt. After the bull was dead, dad came back to get me, and found that I had nearly scaled to the top of the termite chimney, afraid of the non-existent buffalo in the nearby thicket.

On this hunt, the buffalo did get one of the dogs, dis-embowling it with his horn. Another dog was the victim of a pass-through bullet. When we got back to the ranchers house, Dad went into vet-mode, and performed successful surgery. We were rather shocked to see that dog wanting to get into the truck the next morning for another round of buffalo hunting.
 
WOW! That is a very interesting childhood and one very few kids would get. Very cool. Keep the stories coming, it's pretty cool reading about these things happening through the eyes of a kid.
 
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