I've been wanting to post in this thread, but was too lazy to type! I love these types of threads. The reason why I hunt the area I hunt is because I grew up bowhunting in these woods in the early 90s with my dad. The woods I hunt hold so much sentimental value to me. When I was 7 (1983)my dad got into archery, and of course I wanted to do everything he did. Anytime he shot his bow I was there. I remember him being up on the roof shooting down at the target. I remember him making treestands at work (He worked in a sheet metal shop), I remember the treebark camo, the face paint. I wanted to do the same thing so bad. That year for christmas I got my first bow, it was red and a recurve. He used electrical tape to hold a nail on the riser for a sight. I shot that thing every day! The following summer, when I was 8, He brought me scouting with him, or stand errecting day. I got to carry two boards deep into the woods and get yelled at every step of the way for making noise. I remember being under a hemlock tree and him climbing up it and hammering in boards. He then had me walk to the other side of a line of mountain laurel and told me to crawl through it to the small hill on the other side. He then told me to walk up the hill a bit and look for what would look like a bike path running along the hill. I found it and he had me walk back and forth for what seemed like an eternity. Later that fall he came home with a buck that was the biggest thing I'd ever seen. That lit a fire in me that can never be extinguished. After having to wait several years, at the age of 12 my dad gave me my first real bow, his back up bow, a Bear "Black Bear". He also took me to the hunter safety course. After practicing for 2 more years, at the age of 14, my dad felt I was ready to hunt! He took me scouting, and we came to a seemingly familiar spot. he pointed up in the hemlock and the boards were still there. He said, "This is where I shot my big buck from". My eyes lit up and he asked me if I wanted to hunt this spot. I jumped at the opportunity and walked up to the tree. "He laughed and said, No, no trees till you're 16." He pointed to a blowdown a few yards away and we set up a natural ground blind. He paced off distances, and said, "Remember, no shots over 20 yards, the line of mountain laurel is 20 yards from your spot." He then brought me a little bit further and showed me his new spot. It was an odd looking tree that went up at a 30 degree angle, and had a large branch/trunk shooting straight up from the middle of it. His work made steel beast of a stand was already setup there from the previous season. He taught me how to find his spot, by looking for the three massive white pine trees that would lead me to his tree. Opening day 1990. My mom had made a camo jump suit for me as well as a matching face mask. My excitement was at christmas day level. He woke me up a 430am and I can remember pulling up to the spot and there being a few cars there already. My dad introduced me to the guys. There was Ben and Henry, both old as can be but master woodsman my dad told me, a guy a few years younger than my dad named Kenny, and a wierd bearded guy whose name I cant remember. My dad said to Henry, "You going down to couch rock? Me and Joe will be in my usual spot, and the afternoon Joe will be near Cowletts stand." Henry nodded and said "Have fun Joe, stay awake!" It was just about grey light when we started walking in. My dad led the way like a ninja avoiding every stick. I was like a bull in a china closet stepping on every twig snd stick. He would turn around and just give me a look. everything looked different in the woods. He asked me if I knew where we were. I was scared to death as I though we were lost. I shook my head no, and he said, "Jesus Joe, your blind is right THERE!" I was literally a few feet from it. Watching the woods come alive for the first time was an experience that stayed with me, and it never gets old no matter how many times I experience it. A few hours into the hunt, I heard some leaves rustling and a few twigs snapping coming from where my dad stand was. I look to the left and keep looking. I hear more twigs snapping and leaves rustling but I see nothing. I hear a louder snap that came from my right. I turn my head and there were 4 doe standing less than 5 yards away from me staring at me! I lift my bow up and they blew outta there faster than the speed of light. I remember I was shaking uncontrolaby. A few minutes later I could hear foot steps clear as day. It was my dad making noise sounding like a human so I knew it was him and not a deer. As soon as he saw my face, he knew that I had seen something! I told him the story 3 or 4 times on the walk back to the truck. He told me that if I'm asked by the guys to say, "I didn't see anything." Upon reaching the truck, Ben and Henry said, "Oh look at his smile, he saw something!" My dad just turned around and hit the bill of my hat smiling. I saw nothing else that season, and only one deer the next. It would take three seasons of hunting before I connected on my first deer. The memory wasn't as sweet due to girls, work and cars. My last season hunting the woods was 1997. In 2011, I finally returned back to hunting after the Army, Iraq, and getting remarried. I had a dream I was in the same woods with my dad, and that is all it took to relight the fire. I called my dad that morning and said, "Wanna get back into hunting with me?" That season on opening day I led the way as my dad had aged considerably in 14 years. It was a total role reversal, he actually sat in the spot I sat in on my very first hunt. I went past his stand, which was still in the tree with the tree growing around it, to a spot I picked out. 20 minutes after legal shooting light I had a group of does come in range and I let the air out of one at 30 yards. Fun side note, I was using my dads bow that he had shot his big buck with. The doe took off right towards my dad, and piled up 30 yards away from him. That kill and sharing it with my dad provided a fuel for the fire that will last a lifetime. To be honest, I'm no big deer killer. I can count my kills on two hands. I'm in it for the experience that only a woodsman/outdoorsman could understand. I remember all of my kills and they are all very special to me. Example; The butt shot buck from a few years ago was shot 30 yards from the stand where my dad shot his big buck from. The buck was using the same run, 30 some odd years later. I would have never hunted there if an odd 400am cold fog rolled in that was thick as pea soup hadn't stopped me. I couldn't see more than 10 yards in front of me, but knew right where I was. I walked over to a blow down and setup on the ground. A few hours later, the infamous but shot happened. My dad came to help me track, but he was so excited he did all of the tracking! He was amazed at where I was, and all the memories it brought back. Once we found the buck, I had him stay there while I walked back a mile to the truck to get the deer cart. When I came back, I knew I had relit the fire for him! That's enough rambling for now! Like I said, it's all about memorable experiences for me, the kills will come, and when they do, they are special to me. What started it all.. The spot of my first ever hunt how it looks as of last year: "The Tree" from when I was 8 and where my dad shot his buck from, take last year: Dad's treestand from the 90s. Taken last summer. I can't wait to learn how to use the single rope technique of saddle hunting so I can hunt that tree!!!! Ben and Henry's couch rock, taken last year. Massive buck sign all around it, and yes I did hunt near it a few times!! My dad leading the way into the woods last year when he finally returned to hunt!!!
My Dad was never interested in hunting. My mentor was, and still is, my Grampa. I have 100 stories, most with some kind of humor, the time he scared the cows, and they surrounded me, the looks id get when i stepped on an unseen twig, the imaginary hunter... and how he always seemed to set off his truck alarm while he was making his way to the stand. My first deer came out of a stand he put up, I was thirteen and using his crossbow. I remember every second of that hunt.
