Nobody in my family hunted or owned guns.
In grade school, I leaned to read like everybody else, but I picked up on outdoor books.
I read books to the point that my parents had to tell me to put the books down and go outside and play.
Loved the mountain man, and survival books from the days when the country was explored and settled.
I've related this story before, but around 12 years old, I was so ate up with mountain men that my folks let me stay at my uncles farm that had 90 acres of timber with nothing but a .410 and some basic food.
From reading I knew how to build my own shelter, make dead fall traps with nothing but what the woods provided, and catch fish with natural bait. They let me stay out there for two weeks at a time. Little did I know, my uncle would slip in there at night to check on me and replenish my basic supplies. We didn't have cell phones. That was good times.
Later on I took my kids to Colorado for a week of survival living in Natural shelters, at timber line altitudes. They got bored after a couple of days, but it was a lesson to them so we went back to civilization.
The lack of money during the first military days, and the years after when it was a struggle to put food on the table drove me to hunting for food. We lived on fishing for drum in the river for months after getting stationed at Ft Leavenworth Ks. We could hunt small game on post, so my .410 was what I took rabbits and squirrel with.
Getting out of the Army, my uncles place provided food for us again, but then the jobs got better, and hunting became a pleasure vs a way to survive.
Branched out into hunting rabbits with beagles, quail/pheasant with Britts, bullshitting with folks in diners and restaurants about hunting, and finally getting to now.
Obsessed with food plots, prep, stands, hunting, and finally the kill and putting the food on the table.
Its been a long road in the hunting history. I love it.
I also shoot competitively. Some of the guys that shoot a thousand round a month have never killed anything but paper.
I applaud their obsession, and they have never had a bad word to say about mine, although I do take Saturday's off to shoot with them.
In grade school, I leaned to read like everybody else, but I picked up on outdoor books.
I read books to the point that my parents had to tell me to put the books down and go outside and play.
Loved the mountain man, and survival books from the days when the country was explored and settled.
I've related this story before, but around 12 years old, I was so ate up with mountain men that my folks let me stay at my uncles farm that had 90 acres of timber with nothing but a .410 and some basic food.
From reading I knew how to build my own shelter, make dead fall traps with nothing but what the woods provided, and catch fish with natural bait. They let me stay out there for two weeks at a time. Little did I know, my uncle would slip in there at night to check on me and replenish my basic supplies. We didn't have cell phones. That was good times.
Later on I took my kids to Colorado for a week of survival living in Natural shelters, at timber line altitudes. They got bored after a couple of days, but it was a lesson to them so we went back to civilization.
The lack of money during the first military days, and the years after when it was a struggle to put food on the table drove me to hunting for food. We lived on fishing for drum in the river for months after getting stationed at Ft Leavenworth Ks. We could hunt small game on post, so my .410 was what I took rabbits and squirrel with.
Getting out of the Army, my uncles place provided food for us again, but then the jobs got better, and hunting became a pleasure vs a way to survive.
Branched out into hunting rabbits with beagles, quail/pheasant with Britts, bullshitting with folks in diners and restaurants about hunting, and finally getting to now.
Obsessed with food plots, prep, stands, hunting, and finally the kill and putting the food on the table.
Its been a long road in the hunting history. I love it.
I also shoot competitively. Some of the guys that shoot a thousand round a month have never killed anything but paper.
I applaud their obsession, and they have never had a bad word to say about mine, although I do take Saturday's off to shoot with them.