Family Stories/Old time stories

[UpstateNomad90]

I always love going over to my grandparents or when hunting season rolls around to hear some stories that other hunters have to tell. I was thinking I haven't seen a post that people just reminisce with stories from themselves, Fathers or grandfathers, family friend ect you get the Idea. I will share one from my grandfather who told me one tonight about when he was 16 and shot his first deer. 

 

The location of this story I am unsure but I believe it takes place in Bakers Mills, NY. My grandfather and his father and friends use to have horses bring in a draft tent for a week and hunt the deep woods back in the day. This was my Grandfathers first hunt where we was allowed to hunt alone and turned out to be a story he still tells today (Happened in 1946) The story goes that my Grandfather was sitting at the top of a mountain and the  crew decided to drive towards him. As he was sitting a buck ran in front of him about 50 yards away. He was nervous as could be and took a shot with his open sights 32-40. After he shot the buck took off but soon ran right towards him getting to be about 15 yards away, My grandfather tried to rack another round but his gun jammed and the lever was stuck open. This was all within a matter of seconds, but after the deer ran he dropped about 20 yards away. Since he had time to wait for everyone to get up to him on his drive he tried unjamming his gun to see he somehow grabbed someones 30-30 round and that was why it jammed! Lucky as he was for being able to kill the buck with one shot and have it drop 20 yards away the day was far from over. The first sitter right below him made it up the hill and looked at him and said Jesus you had to shoot that monster all the way up here and this far away from camp. (He doesn't remember how far from camp he was but it took them from the morning till afternoon he knows) Well to sum this story up it ended up being a dressed out 252 pound 12 pointer that scores 147.5 inches. This is one story that I love hearing any time he tells it, but he is full of stories from when he use to be able to hunt. The following season in almost the same spot he shot an 11 pointer that scored in the 130s and wasn't as heavy. (I will try my hardest to find the pictures and scan them onto my laptop but it will take some time sorting through pictures at my grandparents house, Also he was a firm believer in never wanting the score put on the list for big bucks taken in NY while he is alive, but he said when he is gone if it helps us remember the story then do as we please! 

 

Anyone else have stories they just love to hear no matter how many times someone has told it to you? 

Edited December 24, 2013 by UpstateNomad90

[BUCKANDAQUARTER]

Great topic! I had one story in particular that I wished to share a few months ago and never did. It was told to me by my neighbor, Sylvester Novak, growing up who very much served as a grandfather to me. I made my first dollar off of him, he taught me how to swim, garden, etc. This story was told to me the better part of 15 years ago, and unfortunatly he passed on several years ago, but it is one I will never forget. It was just after WW2 ended and he just got done serving as an engineer on a sub. He and some buddies went up to Maine for a whitetail hunt. The area they were in was pretty much all clear cuts. They set up camp and everyone promptly got deathly ill. The weather was warm and rainy and not the best for hunting. One guy struggled to get out hunting and ended up shooting a monster 10pt. They all managed to get this deer back to camp and there was only one small tree around to attempt to hang it from. They got a rope around the tree and tried to hoist it up. The tree bent right over barely getting the deer halfway raised up. That night it cooled down to well below freezing. The next morning they looked out and the deer was completely off the ground, to the point where they had to cut the tree down to get the deer. The frost had removed so much "water weight" from the deer it allowed the tree to spring back up over night. The buck ended up well over 200#. The details of the rack and exact weight have been forgotten. I tried to look up the Maine 200# club records but I can't seem to find any records online. I know the guy ended up getting a patch and things like that. Whenever I feel like crap and don't want to get up to get out in the woods I think of that story. It worked this year as I had a horrible backache and pushed myself to get out, I ended up getting my buck during archery that day.

[bkln]

Nice story Nomad,

My Grandpa who was a butcher used to tell me the same story every damn year when he shot two hogs with one bullet and made a carpet out of them. I do remember that carpet and every time I stepped on it I heard my grandpa story in my head. When he was around I was kinda sick of it (imagine to hear the same story for 15 years) but now when he is gone I wouldn't mind to hear it again... :-)

[UpstateNomad90]

Awesome stories guys. But Bkln, I must ask what did a hog skin carpet feel like? 

[greybeard]

This is a great topic and enjoyed the stories, It's great that you and others have them to pass down. It keeps the memories alive. PRICELESS, as they say..

I hope a lot of guys post stories.I look forward to reading them

[First-light]

This is about stories but about when my Father in law would tell them. He hunted all his life with his 4 brothers. Adirondacks was the place to be Indian lake to be exact. He had a stroke at 50 and at 80 the good Lord called him home. For most of those years after the stroke our 6 hr trip to camp in the finger lakes was filled with stories about past hunts. Breaking the ice so they could run their boat up the lake, putting down the guns to fight a forest fire, tent collapsed with a few feet of snow and how it was the first day after he got back from Korea he told his wife he and his brothers were going hunting! (she almost killed him but let him go) He would tell those stories on that 6 hour trip over and over again. He never fell asleep and I never got bored. I miss you Gus you were a great guy and a wonderful hunting companion. 

[UpstateNomad90]

I love the deep wood Adirondack stories of people roughing it just having a true hunting experience. I keep telling myself one of these seasons I am going to hike deep into the woods during muzzleloader season and try and get myself a deep woods deer.  

[turkeyfeathers]

Dad who is now a spry 89 and blessed to have him around . He's told me about pumpkin balls and paper shells that used to swell up in the side by side when grouse hunting. "find a nice long straight strong stick to push back out" he'd say. Also when living in PA shot a nice buck with his 30-40 krag. It was atop the hill , rolled down and he had to drag it back up the steep hill. One season he went 21/42 shots on grouse. I know the few in my life scare the crud out of me and most likely couldn't even get off a shot. He hunted with a 410 and 20 gauge too. 

[breethwithme]

Its a fishing story of when me and my brother where kids. My dad took us bullhead fishing in the swamps of Savannah at night in the early spring. We hammered them two 5 gallon buckets full. But on the way out we got lost in the woods it was dark and we only had a lantern, and we where tromping threw the swamp for hours soak and wet and tired. My dad knew we weren't gonna make it out that night so we found a sorta dry spot, we where freezing by that time. He got some wood but it was all wet so he burned his hat to get the fire going lol. I remember watching my clothes steaming from the fire when it got going. When daylight came we managed to find the road and where 10 feet from the old woodie station wagon. My mom cooked a huge breakfast for us that morning and said she was just about to call the police to come find us.

when the people fear the government there is tyranny. when the government fears the people there is liberty. Thomas Jefferson

[bkln]

Awesome stories guys. But Bkln, I must ask what did a hog skin carpet feel like?

A bit stiff, they were just rugs of not completely tanned hides with hair on, he got a lot of them all over the house mostly used as doormats....

[greybeard]

bkln. He sounds like my kind of guy..

[bubba]

Nice stories guys. My fondest memories are of going to our small one room usually over crowded camp in the daks when I was morphing into a young man.  Aunts Uncles cousins parents and inlaws.  There sure was no modesty for sure.  I just loved sitting around hearing the stories as well as the banter and  all in fun.  My uncle would tell the same jokes every time we were there and we would laugh.  My dad was pretty much the leader of the pack.  Sitting around the table strategizing for the next days hunt always seemed to be up to him.  There was no checking the wind or trail cams or food plots or worrying about scent on your clothes. Just good old fashioned walk and stalk or drives.  The food,  fun,  laughs and all around fellowship was awesome. I fondly remember getting there Friday evenings and be able to see your breath in the camp.  Get the fire going and sleep in your clothes to try to stay warm. My family seemed to be the first ones there. It was about a half mile off the main road and I always looked forward to seeing the headlights pulling in as others arrived. Now a days it seems we are all way too busy to even barely get together. This year a cousin of mine from those good ol days started hunting with me at my camp.  We spent a lot of evenings this past fall talking about those great times.  His 16 year old nephew would play on his ipad and ear buds and ignore us as we were "boring".  That is the part that saddens me is I am afraid this type if thing will fall to the wayside.  All of the older ones from that camp have passed on.  Hell I am about the oldest now.  I wish I had someone to listen to the stories I have been told and the ones I have of my own.  The price we pay for technology I guess.  I know I am a dying breed, but I do not plan to go quietly lol.  My dad and my uncle got the 40 acre piece for the camp on a 99 year lease as the person who inherited it was under age. My uncle was a carpenter. He and my dad and other uncles tore down a house for the lumber and built the camp evenings and weekends. There was an old school bus there for a camp when they got it.  It was surrounded by public access land, so there was tons to hunt  The promise was that when she became of age, she would sign it over.  Well long story short she refused, and the family lost it.  She saw dollar bills in logging.  The past time I snuck in to look at it, it had collapsed in and was ruined.  I wonder how may people stumble upon it and wonder about its history.  Probably not many.  Anyway I would give anything I have for one last weekend with all of them present at the old camp.  But since that is not possible, I will keep visiting in my mind.  Not a ton of deer were killed there, but we did alright.  I guess that is why I think there is much more to deer hunting than getting a deer. Sorry no monster deer stories, I will keep them to myself.  Ok one.  We had snow on Saturday night while we were there. Not a ton maybe 3 inches but good tracking.  My uncle was part native american Mohawk.  He went out to do so still hunting.  I swear that man could walk in a pile of leaves and never make a sound.  He got on a track that took him around the edge of a small swamp.  He went around the swamp tracking and when he got back to the original spot, the deer was walking in his tracks.  He went about 100 yards further hid up and waited.  About 20 minutes later a decent 6 point appeared looking where he went.  That deer sure tasted good.   Please keep them coming guys.  I love reading them.

Edited December 25, 2013 by bubba

[NFA-ADK]

Long Eddy NY.  Many, many years ago...  A few family friends had gone up hunting.  They where out the first day on the land and 2 of them where going to hunt this mountain top together.  One on one side of the mountain the other took the back side.  After a few hours of sitting uncle Joe fell asleep.  Suddenly awoken from his slumber he could hear a noise that woke him, it was my other uncle snoring on the other side of the mountain!  After a unsuccessful hunt they headed back to the cabin.  After 3 hours in the woods they came to the conclusion that they where lost.  Seeing a light in a cabin they made their way over to it and knocked on the door hoping someone was home and could direct them back or possible give a ride.  After a few knocks on the door my other uncle John opened the door and let them in, it was the cabin they where staying in!!!  To say they where not woods wise would be an understatement, but it makes for funny stories that's for sure!

[turkeyfeathers]

Years ago my brother and his friend went up into the hills of the ADK's to spring turkey hunt. Well as you know turkey vests have many a pockets. Every day my brother would add a rock or two to his friends vest. After a week his friend says "dang, I'm not cut out for this, I'm dragging a$$ walking these hills"

[UpstateNomad90]

My own favorite personal story that I will tell for generations is when I asked a guy I went to college with who is heavily invested into photography (and a city guy) to join my buddy and I out to my hunting camp for a fishing trip. We left late Thursday night and made it to my camp without any problems. The next morning we decided we were going to the honey hole right off the bat so we made it down to the stream to start the 1.5 mile walk upstream. Well it is the middle of summer so we just used those fashionable Croc's and swimsuits to wade up the stream. The only problem was my friend from college was roughly 5 foot 7 on a lucky day and My high school friend and I are easily over 6, so we had to change our route completely because of the camera equipment and not being able to just wade through the river. After making it to the spot (A natural Brook Trout honey hole, no huge fish but enough to keep you busy all day) After a few beers and catching two nice ones to eat, we decided we would head back. I went across the stream without a problem but then I heard a kerplump, my friend from highschool slipped and went under. In between laughs we decided to blaze a trail to roughly where the parking lot is. We were about 10 minutes from the truck and out of no where there is this small pond in front us  and swampy edges all the way around it. My high school friend tossed a lure in and let it hit bottom  just over 2 feet deep, not a problem we can walk across, He made it about 5 steps and the mud sucked him down to his stomach. So my short friend and I decided we would risk the swamp and try and walk on the roots of trees. We were about 20 feet from the river this time and bam my college buddy and I stepped right in mud and our shoes were buried about 1.5 feet down in the mud, I reached down and grabbed my shoe and my buddy said screw it and did a dash towards the river leaving his shoe behind. After we all made it out to the river, and looking like we have crap all over us, we push down the brush and walked right into a fly fishermans set. The first thing the guy said was, are you lost and after apologizing for ruining his set we told him our story and showed him our spoils after a couple laughs we were on our way and decided next time we will be buying a waterproof bag.  

[phade]

My grandfather hunted a bit as a kid but never got into it. He never told me why until only a few years ago. He had one heck of a good dog though. Problem was, he was a bad shot. He said one day after missing the same pheasant three times jumped each time, the dog looked at him and ran home. He said he quit hunting right then and there as a teen.

[UpstateNomad90]

Ha Phade that is a funny story, Everyone has a breaking point at some point in their life, his was just a little earlier than others. 

[greybeard]

Phade,, great story..

 

I'll admit this here, because no one really knows me...I quit bow hunting after I grunted in a huge buck to within 15 feet of me and missed him as he stood there broadside. I was calm, I raised the bow and put the wrong pin on his shoulder., and the arrow went right over his back. He ran maybe 30 yards and again stood broadside, and offered a clear shot. I decided that I didn't deserve that deer  because I was a failure. So I stood up and  yelled at him, and scared him off..  M y friend heard me yell, then saw the deer , but had no shot. When I told him that I didn't take the 2nd shot, he just stared at me.We never spoke of it again... I quit bow hunting  that day !!.. True Confession

[nyantler]

My favorite hunting stories to tell are about how as a young kid hunting with my dad... the clothing we had back then was nothing anyone could call warm... my father use to make me sit for hours and for many years I spent more time freezing to death than doing any real hunting... yet for some reason I never lost that feeling of being excited about going hunting with my father... I always tell these stories to the young fellas that come to camp complaining that they were really cold that day hunting... as they take off their Under Armor, fleece outfit, 1200 gram Thinsulate Gortex boots, and heated socks while pulling hand warmers out of their pocket.. I respond with a laugh and a " You don't even know what cold is! Let me tell you a story about cold." LOL