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What's your most memorable hunt

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[/font]Hi all, after many years of hunting I was reflecting with a couple friends about previous hunts. We started asking eachother "Which hunt stands out above the rest for you?" Some had memories of their first deer, others their largest deer,some were waterfowling with friends who since passed,etc. Many memories went through my mind from years passed, but one when I close my eyes comes back so vividly with such detail I guess I consider it one above all. It was my first really nice buck with the recurve, I've taken larger deer with the gun,compound and crossbow but shooting the buck instinctive with the recurve burned this memory so vividly into my mind I believe at this point was my most memorable hunt. How about yourself?

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My first deer that I killed,I remember it like it was yesterday.I remember thinking.."there's a deer,IT'S GOT HORNS"

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My early childhood days were spent dong ALOT of rabbit hunting with my dad. There might not be a single farm in Bradford County PA that we didnt rabbit hunt on . as all you had to do was knock on the farm doors and ask.

we would only hunt each farm 1 or 2 times each season , and we had ALOT of fun.

 

Then came my teen years and the extended bowseasons, everytime dad wanted to bunny hunt, I was chasing a big buck somewhere.

 

Wish now I had hunted alot more rabbits with him, as he is now too old to walk alot, and he always liked hearing the hounds better than deer hunting.

 

Yet this year he actually hunted a TARGET buck , something he had not done in his 80 years.

 

And he shot it opening day here in NJ.

 

Its everyone of those hunts I spent with him are the BEST, as It has just been 1 long never ending hunt for me since I was 6, and now going on 51

 

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Maine moose last year. Took my dad with me.


I love this post from a phone stuff. Matt you are a king among kings

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I would say every hunt with my father, success or not. But also I could include my first deer, or bear, or my first big buck, my first NJ bear, or my Illinois hunts

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That's awesome you were able to share a moment like that with your Dad Hammer. It brought up a memory of my late father, he didn't shoot a buck until he was 52. A young kid shot at the deer it ran down the cornfield and Dad dropped him in his tracks. When the kid walked up my Dad said Congradulations to him, the kid was startled as I was, at the time I didn't understand why he gave up his first buck...now I do.

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I've shot some nice animals including bear, elk, moose, sheep, etc. everyone of them very memorable.

 

But my most memorable hunt by far was 43 years ago when I was 10 years old. I was walking side by side with my Dad, he just passed away this Past May at 86 . A bunny ran out in front of us and came across us from left to right. We both came up and I shot first and hit him with one shot. I'll never forget the smile on his face when he hugged me and said "great shot, I can't believe you shot him before I did" ..I will always wonder if he let me get that bunny, I think he did.

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My Dad and Grandfather took me hunting at 14. I'd done a lot of hunting and fishing before then, but was never allowed into deer camp.

 

Opening morning my old boy was smoking cigs and I took it personally, (LOL) Told him ten times to put it out between 0400 and 0800. We were in an 8' x 10' box blind in Nicholson, PA.

 

It felt like a useless cause, but out of no where came what I thought was a monster picking clean an old pine shrub. There were three shots....

 

That deer was a monster.... just kidding, it was a mainframe 4 with two small points on it's bases.

 

My Dad is physician, so the anatomy lesson (me doing the gutting) was slow and sweet. I literally vomited twice HAHA

 

So even though the old boys also shot, and no one knows who hit 'em, it was my deer, and that was the last time I hunted with my Gramps.

 

It was my first kill with my grandfather and also my last, he was my best friend, and mentor.

 

We'd done some fun things before then but I'd give my left nut to hang with him again.

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most memorable hunt was back in 94 during 6 day.it was a miserable day. i had a bad ear infection that had the whole left side of my face swollen n ear was completely closed .i was determined to go out.i grabbed a 5gal bucket n sat in an AT&T line 15 min walk from my house. 10 mins after i sat down a deer pops out of the woods 30 yrd away from me,walking towards me.thought it was a doe.got with in 20 yrds n it turned i realised that it was a buck missing his lift side.put the bead on him n dropped it where he stood all in a total of 30mins of going out.it was only a 3 point but just funny how the worse day could turn out that well.

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Hunting with my Dad.,and the things he taught me.The most memorable one

that i remember was just me and him on a snowy doe day on Ft.Dix.

He found a fresh track and told me to start tracking it and bark like a "Dog"

once in awhile so he knew where i was. My father knew FT Dix. like the back of his hand and was almost certain where the deer was headed. I didn't make about 20 yelps before i hear my father shoot,when i got out to him there laid the biggest doe i ever seen..I ask my Dad "how did you know where she was headed"?..He told me "i've hunted these woods long enough boy..i know".

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Bird hunting with my dad, and the day I realized he only went

Deer hunting to take me.

Waterfowl hunting, getting my first band while hunting with a

Great buddy.

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Wow, it seems like even if we all shot some big impressive animals from some far away lands the hunts with our Fathers were simply the best. Good for us.

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I have been fortunate to hunt many places and many different types of game but without a doubt it was sitting with my daughter this year as she harvested her first deer. This was her first time out and her first shot at any animal and she spined the buck and dropped it.

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The first pheasant I killed when I was 10 years old. Even if I live to be 100, I will never forget the feeling of watching that bird fall from the sky after I pulled the trigger.

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I'd have to go with being able to track and recover my dads first buck he killed with a bow. I was 13 or 14 he shot it the previous nite and lost the blood trail when it crossed a creek. Went out with him the next day to look for it. Couldn't find any blood so I looked for the nastiest thickest trail and found him 30 yards down the trail. When I called out to my dad I found him, he was running like a kid in a candy store. I'll never forget that.

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I'd have to go with being able to track and recover my dads first buck he killed with a bow. I was 13 or 14 he shot it the previous nite and lost the blood trail when it crossed a creek. Went out with him the next day to look for it. Couldn't find any blood so I looked for the nastiest thickest trail and found him 30 yards down the trail. When I called out to my dad I found him' date=' he was running like a kid in a candy store. I'll never forget that.

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Good ole milt. Your dad is a great man.

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For me, it wasn't the hunt so much as it was the gift that I was given to actually go hunting. My dad never hunted -- he grew up in the city so there wasn't much need for hunting...unless, you were hunting rats or pigeons. What he did do was to recognize that it was something that I enjoyed doing and since he knew all of the club members through different activities, he has no problems with me hunting with the local gun club. My first year hunting -- 1984 I believe, I borrowed a shotgun from our next door neighbor and had at it. On Christmas Day, 1985, I opened my one and only gift -- a Browning BPS 12ga pump. I took a lot of tree rats and rabbits with that gun, but never took a deer with it while he was alive. Although, he didn't understand the whole hunting thing, he never discouraged my interest in the sport and the gun was a testament to that fact. Still use that gun to this day and even though I have a few more of my own, the Browning is the first one out of the safe when the firearm season comes around.

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For me it was watching my son shoot his first turkey 2 years ago! Followed by seeing him shoot his first deer with the crossbow this season

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It was 6 day opener. My Dad and I were setup on a swamp off of Philhower road in Califon. He was at one end and I was at the other. Back in those days the area was mountain and woods. The McMansions hadn'tbeen built yet and we knew with all the hunters out the Bucks would head right for the safety of the thick swamp when the pressure was on them. 7:10 I hear him yell "Here he comes". I look up and a nice 8pt is heading right at me. I pull up my old JC Higgins pump and the load of oo finds it mark and down he goes. This was my first buck. I was 19 and leaving for Vietnam on Wednsday. To this day I think my Dad let that buck go right past him so I could get it.

 

In this photo it is the horns top left 2nd one in. They mean more to me than any antlers ever will. My Dad has been gone a long time but everytime I look at them I think of him.

 

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The good old days were we would go pheasant in the Am then go for quail and rabbit in the afternoon on my buddies property. There was some wild quail back then. Saw them once and a blue moon

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