Re: trophy/man rooms?
Posted: Mon May 10, 2010 10:05 am
I have never looked at this post until today, I must say I have been missing out. Mr. Pat you are a wealth of good stories, and a true outdoorsman. I agree with alot you have said, I will share my favorite hunting story, not that it is comparable to Mr. Pats. It is however just as important to me.
My father went on his first Duck hunt ever this past year. I have spent many years trying to convence him to go with me, but to no availe. He has spent most of his life training Hog, and coon hounds and loves those two sports dearly. When I took up duck hunting when I was 12, hunting with friends he said he would go with us next season. This has gone on for 14 years now. I bought a lab when I was 16 and my dad helped train her and due mostly to him she matured into a true hunting dog. She is no MH or HRC but to me she is one of the best meat dogs a guy could have. My father has been saying he wanted to go hunting just to watch the dog work, didn't care to do any shooting. So finally this past season on one of my trips to hunt in Cleveland he called me on my way down and said he had scouted my Brake and it had ducks in it, that had been there for the last two weeks. This was not at all abnormal for he always has found joy in seeing me in having a good hunt.
The words out of his mouth that followed the report left me surprised. "How many pairs of waders you got in your truck?" I answered after a short pause, not knowing who he had told I would take, I told him I just so happened to have two pairs. He said good cause I am going with you. I was in shock. I pulled in the drive and he was in the kitchen cleaning his shotgun smiling and inquired about all th detailes of what we would do as he had no clue as to what to prepare for. We had a drink and he went to sleep so he would be ready to hunt.
We set up in a small hole in the timber I usually have good luck hunting. We had one Woody fly by at daylight , it was a quiet morning. I never looked at a watch since I was enjoying my fathers company and cared less about how much time we had spent there. We had decided to pick up and head home, just as the words left my mouth a pair of Mallards flew over and one quick hit on the call and they dropped in on a string. I never fired a shot as I was caught up in watching the look on my dads face, he was fascinated by the beauty and movment of the ducks coming through the trees. He never picked his gun up either.
We never fired a shot that morning. On the 4-wheeler ride to the house he said " so thats why you are so caught up in duck hunting?". I said what do you mean, his answer " wathing those ducks come in like that was amazing". I smiled and said yes. After we got back to the house he admitted to me that he had seen no ducks the afternoon before he only wanted to go hunting with me to spend time doing something with me. Doing somethin I love. It brought tears to my eyes and with a lump in my throat I could only say I enjoyed it more than anything.
We never fired a shot and I would say this was my favorite hunting memory ever, from the look on my dads face seeing the ducks come in, to his reason for wanting to go. It will live in my mind forever.
My father went on his first Duck hunt ever this past year. I have spent many years trying to convence him to go with me, but to no availe. He has spent most of his life training Hog, and coon hounds and loves those two sports dearly. When I took up duck hunting when I was 12, hunting with friends he said he would go with us next season. This has gone on for 14 years now. I bought a lab when I was 16 and my dad helped train her and due mostly to him she matured into a true hunting dog. She is no MH or HRC but to me she is one of the best meat dogs a guy could have. My father has been saying he wanted to go hunting just to watch the dog work, didn't care to do any shooting. So finally this past season on one of my trips to hunt in Cleveland he called me on my way down and said he had scouted my Brake and it had ducks in it, that had been there for the last two weeks. This was not at all abnormal for he always has found joy in seeing me in having a good hunt.
The words out of his mouth that followed the report left me surprised. "How many pairs of waders you got in your truck?" I answered after a short pause, not knowing who he had told I would take, I told him I just so happened to have two pairs. He said good cause I am going with you. I was in shock. I pulled in the drive and he was in the kitchen cleaning his shotgun smiling and inquired about all th detailes of what we would do as he had no clue as to what to prepare for. We had a drink and he went to sleep so he would be ready to hunt.
We set up in a small hole in the timber I usually have good luck hunting. We had one Woody fly by at daylight , it was a quiet morning. I never looked at a watch since I was enjoying my fathers company and cared less about how much time we had spent there. We had decided to pick up and head home, just as the words left my mouth a pair of Mallards flew over and one quick hit on the call and they dropped in on a string. I never fired a shot as I was caught up in watching the look on my dads face, he was fascinated by the beauty and movment of the ducks coming through the trees. He never picked his gun up either.
We never fired a shot that morning. On the 4-wheeler ride to the house he said " so thats why you are so caught up in duck hunting?". I said what do you mean, his answer " wathing those ducks come in like that was amazing". I smiled and said yes. After we got back to the house he admitted to me that he had seen no ducks the afternoon before he only wanted to go hunting with me to spend time doing something with me. Doing somethin I love. It brought tears to my eyes and with a lump in my throat I could only say I enjoyed it more than anything.
We never fired a shot and I would say this was my favorite hunting memory ever, from the look on my dads face seeing the ducks come in, to his reason for wanting to go. It will live in my mind forever.
