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Favorite Hunting memory


TreeGuy
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I have to manyto list,We were out of school for Thanksgiving and my dad and family/friends went out for a day of hunting,I was 10 at the time and my mom also hunted she stayed back to prep/cook dinner she got every thing cooking baking and said lets take a walk and see if the deer are eating apples today Mom gets me allset in my clothes and puts her jacket and boots on we go over the road to the apple orchard and not even 20 feet from the road she says stop shouldered her 20 singleshot Bang is all I herd Mom shot an alfa doe fun times 

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I have hard enough time killing 1 every 5 years. 
Oh you and me both. That one shot many years ago was the only time I killed a male Turkey, in that case two jakes. This past season I almost arrowed a 9-10 inch bearded Tom but when the time came I couldn't draw my bow, my muscles froze and hopefully this year he will fall to my bow

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1 hour ago, Steuben Jerry said:
4 hours ago, moog5050 said:

Memories with family are awesome.  I just don't come from a hunting family so no memories with dad.

That's my exact situation as well.

Same here it does not matter, it's in our genes.  I think it is why we can get "into" hunting so easily, some primitive instinct that kicks in when we go back to our roots.  Funny how kids simply get it and that shows in the pictures!   Some epic stories!  Very cool!  More More!  Thanks for sharing! 

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Probably hunting with my Father in law who in his prime hunted and fished everywhere. He had a stroke at 50 so he needed help all around but still managed to hunt and fish with me up until the age of 75. Another one was watching a kid I mentoered get his firts deer the first day with bow in the woods. That was amazing and what an amazing kid he grew up to be. 

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Lots of good memories have accumulated over 39 years of hunting.   My favorite one occurred on opening day of NY southern zone deer season, in 2012.  That morning hunt was especially good for my wife.   She had a big smile on her face when I brought up a fat button buck that I shot about 15 minutes after sunrise.   I gutted it quick, then got back up in my stand until lunch time.   I heard about 30 other shots nearby that morning, on our side of the road, but did not see any more deer.

 As she was preparing lunch, the phone rang.   It was an older friend in the adjacent town, asking if she wanted a deer that she had shot.   I wanted to get back out hunting, but I gave in to my wife's request, and drove over to pick up that deer.  It turned out to be another fat button buck, nearly identical to the one already hanging in our garage.   Seldom have I seen her happier than she was at the sight of those two hanging in the garage.   She loves button bucks more than any other, because they are so tender and tasty and do not require giving up any wall space.    After lunch, she and our equally happy girls (they also love button bucks), got in the mini-van and headed over to her parents house, not knowing yet that they would be giving up some wall-space later that afternoon.    

Having only seen one deer all morning and hearing all those close by shots, I thought an afternoon hunt on our side of the road would be pointless.  I did not hear any shots across the road however, so I decided to head over there for the afternoon.  I had a tree-stand deep in the woods over there that I mainly just used during archery season.  It was warm and peaceful up in that tree, and I passed the time reading.   The hours passed and all I saw was another hunter sneaking slowly across the far side of the woods.  Towards evening, I looked at my watch and noted there was 5 minutes of legal daylight left.  At that moment, the book dislodged from my hand and fell to the ground.  

I decided to pack it in a touch early, and carefully climbed down with my loaded shotgun (shame on me, but it paid off this time).  There was some thick cover below my stand and as soon as I got to the ground, I heard crashing all around me.   A flock of turkeys had just landed, some just 10 feet away.   Suddenly, the big head, neck, and antlers of a mature buck appeared, at point blank range.   I raised my gun quick, centered the cross-hairs at the base of his neck, and dropped him there in his tracks, with just two minutes of legal daylight to go.   I had just enough fading light to get his guts out and drag his heavy carcass to the edge of the woods.

That was my favorite hunting memory for two reasons.  The lesser, is that I am a meat hunter first, and never had a single day produce more venison in terms of quality (in the morning) and quantity (in the afternoon).  The biggest reason, is that the afternoon hunt was the one that removed any doubt of what it takes for a hunt to be successful, and of Who determines if it will be.   Had the book I dropped been any other, I would still be wondering.  It happened to be the World's number one all-time best seller. Had I not dropped that book when I did, those turkeys would have spotted my blaze orange camo from a mile away, and that buck they were protecting would have met a different fate.          

         

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Probably my favorite hunting memory was that first pigeon hunt in the hay mow of the barn, using a hand-carved longbow that I carved from a hickory stave cut off the hill. Some un-fletched willow arrows and a whole bunch of time on my hands, and a new lifetime of hunting was born. I was age 11 at the time. My Mom cooked up the two pigeons that I got, and as I recall, they were pretty darn good tasting.

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