I still like to deer hunt. Getting out in the clean fresh air and slowly moving through the woods. Watching fields and sitting in the deer blind. As I get older, I find myself looking down the trails and access road expecting to see my father and other family members heading back to the old farm house. We would talk about the day's hunt and what we saw and didn't see. We would eat a nice supper and talk about the past. My father and some other family members are gone now. I swear I see them coming out of the fields but they aren't there.

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That's gonna leave a mark.

They are there. They never leave us.

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Possum—The other white meat!

I wish I had your memories. My father and I shared no interests and spent little time just the two of us.

Enjoy your memories!

I'm with you Doug. My Dad started taking me hunting when I was around 4. He had LOTS of patience! In his latter years I took him. He's Gone. But not the memories. Sometimes when I do good in the field I'll turn my face skyward. And say. " Hey Dad. Did you see that?"

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S&W Accumulator

If you don't bother to load your rifle, you can enjoy old age and hunting, without the bother of having to drag the deer out of the woods.

Unfortunately still (which does not mean just standing in one spot) hunting has largely been supplanted by tree stand ambushing, and I'm afraid one of those guys will shoot me, so now I stay out of the woods during hunting season.

As I have aged, I've found that my killing blood doesn't run as hot as it used to. However, I still like getting out. As a result, I'll pack into the elk or deer camp with sons and grandsons and set up the big wall tent with the wood stove.

I bring along my skillets and Dutch ovens, and while the hunters are out, I make sure to have a hot dinner waiting when they come back to camp cold and hungry.

It's mostly stick-to-your-ribs kind of fare. Nothing canned. All homemade. There will often be a hearty stew with hot biscuits, or maybe some homemade chili with cornbread, or perhaps meatballs in gravy with red potatoes and green beans.

Dessert is usually a Dutch oven cobbler, baked apples or sometimes pound cake with hot peach sauce.

During the day, while the hunters are gone, I usually take a short hike with my border collie Suzy. When I return to camp, I'll catch up on my reading, then Suzy and I will have our obligatory afternoon nap, getting up in plenty of time to get dinner going.

After the hunters arrive back in camp and dinner is over, the dishes washed and put away, we sit around the campfire as the hunters recount the day's activities. If they happened to score, we hear the play-by-play story of how it all went. It really doesn't get much better than that.

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Pack light and cinch tight.

If I leave before nightfall and push the old truck really hard and drive straight through, I might could be there in forty-eight hours or so. Think you could keep the stuff warm for me that long?

We never used tree stands, just lean up against a tree if you wanted to cover an open area. Walking, driving, stalking. Very rough country mostly. My buddy had a farm, 160 acres near a refuge, that was mostly easier. I gave it up after the 2000 season. Too crippled up. I've killed enough critters. But I do cherish all those times.

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No baby we aint

I don't hunt like I used to, but when I get out there, it isn't about the shot as much as it is the experience these days (and hence, memories).

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Some Might Say.

I gave up hunting almost 40 years ago, and took to competitive trap shooting. I have some great memories though. A couple days ago I was standing in a spot ( motionless) at about 8 AM looking out over the salt water, and a doe came about 4 feet from me, and walked right by like I was not there. She walked by me, down a path, and out to the saltwater

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Pete
I ain't no fortunate son

I’m getting like you all. I still go, still carry my rifle and still say I’m going hunting but I’ve passed on the last 10 seasons of actually pulling the trigger. Plenty of shots to take but I just didn’t want to.
I just watched and spun yarns when I got back to camp.
I hope I never lose the desire to go. Goals may change but not the game.

Going tomorrow, matter of fact!

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“Look life in its iron face”

I still have the strong desire to hunt and fish, but it is tempered by age and physical ability. I have learned you don't need to walk in 5 miles, or have to go thru a lot of effort and expense towing and launching a boat, to have a successful day afield, or on the water. Nowadays, I try to shoot game of any size within a short distance to a trail or dirt road. Cant drag a deer for miles like I used to.

All my hunting and fishing buddies are about the same age as me. One friend, has a 25 year old son in law who is a big guy, and has expressed interest to my friend to go deer hunting. Guy is truly as dumb as a box of rocks, and my buddy don't trust him with a gun. But I tell Pat, "look, we need someone to drag out our deer, the real reason I started taking you hunting with me years ago". He thought about it, and said "Yea, I have dragged out a lot of deer for you".... I offered to load some blanks for his SIL's rifle, if it makes him feel better. We will see...

Larry

I no longer deer hunt as I've mentioned earlier. Arthritis in hands and shoulders, inability to tolerate loss of sleep and extremes of weather played a big part of my demise. But I let myself down easily. Even after I stopped hunting I still continued to go along and serve as photographer and camp cook. I had to give up shooting due to the arthritis.

But I still loved the atmosphere of deer camp and being out in the woods even though I no longer cared to hunt. It was a fun time and I just wasn't ready to give it up all at one time.

I have a lot of wonderful memories but I am okay that this part of my life is over.

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Real men love cats!

Jim, don't worry. I'll have something hot waiting. The tent is 12'x14', so we have plenty of room and an extra cot. Suzy, however, commands a bed by the wood stove, so if you want to sleep closer to the stove, you'll have to take it up with her.

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Pack light and cinch tight.

A friend wanted to bring his son over for a youth hunt. Any sex using a gun while in bow season only.....as long as the youth is the shooter. I questioned who was gonna take the shot....his dad replied, “he’ll pull the trigger?”

Brought back fond memories of Dad and myself at that age.
They were in the woods a total of one hour....dad said young son was a wiggles wart.

Yeah.... at that age I was too....wasn’t you?
Said his dad never took him hunting...... makes me feel lucky to come from hunting/fishing roots..... and good on him starting his son off right(youngster pictured was also at the dove shoot this year)((He and his younger brother ate all my Viennas’ at the hunt....they called them baby hotdogs))!

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triggers dog-pile egomaniacs

I didn't grow up in a hunting family. It was something I took up with the guiding hand of some of my friends and their families in my teen after my parents moved to Utah.

Due to a divorce I really didn't get to take my kids hunting all that much. Sure we got the occasional hunting and fishing trip in but not near as much as I wanted. Ex-wives can be that way. Now I'm older I've tried to make up for it by getting my grandkids out in the field as often as possible.

I've put enough meat in the freezer and it much more enjoyable seeing them be successful. There is nothing better than passing up a shot and letting a youngster fill their tag.

Last night we had all the grandkids and their parents over for dinner. One grandson was wondering when we can the pronghorn he shot last September officially scored. I was suprisedwhen a couple of the kids ask about Spring turkey hunting. Best of all one my 15 year old grand daughter said she wanted to go go hunt deer or something next Fall. It is the first time she has shown any interest in hunting so maybe I'm doing things right.

Hopefully after I'm gone those kids will still get out into the field and think of me the way Doug feels about family and hunting buddies passed.

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Bill Bates

Not many things can compare with a day spent hunting or fishing,even better when you take a young person. Hoping I last long enough to take my granddaughters.

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Hue 68 noli me tangere

I must agree about taking a young person with you being great. On one of our Fly-out fishing trips to Canada I happened to be partnered that day with my 18 year old nephew.

The weather there is always unpredictable that time of year (1st week of June) We were having a fine morning. Catching a few nice walleye and northern pike. About 60 deg.F and no wind. Sunny skies.

in the blink of an eye the sky darkened and a cold wind came up. Thunder and LOTS of lightening hitting near us on the land.

I thought my nephew was going to jump out of the boat. "Uncle Jack! What will we do if lightening hit the boat!?!"

I said that we wouldn't do anything...we'd be dead. He busted out laughing and realized that I meant there was no point in worrying about it.

I told him to keep his rod tip down and we headed for a rocky wall near us. We road out the brief storm and in just a few minutes everything was as it had been before.....except that that little storm shut the bite down big time. We didn't catch any more fish.

Nephew spent the rest of the week worrying about the weather.

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Real men love cats!

That's the key. There is a time for everything, but at some point you ease yourself out, at your own pace.

There is deer and elk to be had less than 20 minutes drive out of my town, and some of the most rugged hunting country of the Oregon coast range in less than an hour. So we never bothered with camp, and even ran home for lunch and a nap in the middle of the day, or hopped in the truck after work during the week for a few hours hunting before dusk fell.

Sometimes I went out with friends, but often alone to get away from people for a bit. With all the strength in the world, dragging a deer a few miles was a PITB, but perfectly doable.

My first decent Blacktail buck (1992):



Late-season Roosevelt 6x6 (early 1990s). I'm not the guy who tagged this one; great memories of an exciting hunt, though:



But in later years, as my health forced me to slow down, I figured out some nice spots to park on a landing and sit on a stump near the truck:



And finally, when I couldn't safely go out into the wild anymore, some friends with a farm let me sit at the back door of their barn and snipe at deer in the creek bottom below, so I got my supply of ground venison and summer sausage that way for a few more years:



When they sold the farm a few years back, I was content to be done.

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You have no idea how much I wish I could be there. And Suzy? No problem. I sleep with two big dogs, and sometimes they tend to dictate just where in the bed I sleep and how much space I have.

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Great stories friends......Keep "em" coming.

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S&W Accumulator

So far I'm a no show in the woods this deer season.
We got a lot of rain, snow and cold during grouse season so I
didn't hunt enough to get in shape for deer hunting.

It's warmer now but I discovered while looking through my wallet
yesterday that I didn't buy a deer license this year. Also, because
of the weather mentioned above, didn't sight in a deer rifle yet.
Still might make my way out but I have doubts.

Some guys I used to hunt with are gone, and those who are still alive
have mostly moved out of state. Maybe I'll figure out a new way to
get out next year. Bowhunting with a crossbow maybe. Early October
weather is usually better than the stuff we have now.

YouTube

sun comes up...

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triggers dog-pile egomaniacs

At first rear your post reminded me of one of my favorite grouse hunting stories Corey Ford's "The Road to Tinkhamtown,"

here is a shortened version with video

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Bill Bates

Age and the demise of my granddad, dad and my Uncle Richard have ended my days of hunting and the Canadian fishing trips. It wasn't just the hunting and fishing, but also things like showing off our cooking and my adventures with the local language in Quebec province. And the fun we had hunting behind my late uncle's wonderful beagle.

I don't have any children or grandchildren, but I have a little cousin who borrowed my deer rifle and bagged a deer with it at 225 yards. I think he deserves the rifle after I'm gone.

I am still hunting and find it more enjoying every year. My patience in the field has evolved and my field of vision has become more refined.

I don't keep my face in my phone but, instead keep my eyes and binoculars searching and enjoying every aspect of nature. The experience exceeds the shot and the company is always appreciated.

Attached is a photo of last year's opening day of deer season bag. With only six tubes of ground venison left, I was able to connect last weekend on opening day of muzzle loader season here in the Great State of Tennessee!

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..........nope....

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triggers dog-pile egomaniacs

I don't know if I have ever before "Liked" so many posts in a single thread. Thanks for the memories. And thank you Dad for letting me tag along on so many hunting and fishing trips!

I never had the opportunity to hunt when I was young and took it up at age 50 (long story). I'm a tree sniper so can't match your stories, but I love to sit in a stand. I rely on the kindness of friends for opportunities to go out and savor each one. My kids are not interested in hunting and the grand kids are too young. Hope to keep hunting for as long as possible!

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Support Israel!

Used to hunt, but after I got back from Vietnam and out of the Army, the idea of going out in the bush, humping a rifle didn't appeal to me any more. I've got nothing against it, it's a good skill to know, but I'm out.

At a few months shy of 88 years old and unsure of foot I do not venture into the woods any more. I do not like falling down with a rifle in my hand. Too old to climb tree stands and too old to walk in the woods so I only have memories of the good times in camp or traveling out west to hunt elk and mule deer. Have had my share of game and now have my share of memories to smile about and relive.The camp is gone younger people and what hunting I do is from the seat of my 4X4 pick-up. .

I too am aging and like the OP, almost all of my original hunting partners are gone now including my father and his brother. We were not fortunate enough to be able to hunt from the back door of our home. We lived in the suburbs and hunting meant either hotel accommodations or food shopping if we were loaned a cabin in the woods. Driving to huntable land was a minimum of three hours and the additional hassle of avoiding posted lands.

I stopped hunting ten years ago and frankly, I don't miss it as much as I thought I would. I'm resigned to the fact that I've entered a new stage in my life where health issues and joint replacements would make it difficult to climb hills and drag deer. But I do have my fond memories.

I think I have a few more hunts left in me, but I have slowed down a lot with back and knee issues. I can't stalk like I used to, so I sit in a ladder stand and wait for a deer to walk by. I almost never shoot one, I enjoy just watching and enjoying the day. It is quiet in the woods.My youngest son likes to go when he isn't busy, which is hardly ever. I'll just enjoy every time I get to go.

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Recycled Bricklayer

Wednesday morning. 22 degrees. I'm dressed with almost everything I own. Had "hot hands" warmers between the stocking caps on my head and one big one in each pocket. Sitting in my tower with coffee and honey bun waiting on daylight. Sat till 945am and got down and started for the truck saw this buck staring at me as I walked out. He was about 80 yards away in the weed field and all I could see was his face and white throat patch. I put the cross hair on his throat patch and touched the trigger. At the shot he vanished and I thought I had missed. I walked that way and found him DOA. Not bad for an old guy shooting offhand dressed like the Michilen Man.
Point is I'll keep going to the woods as long as I can stand and put one foot in front of the other

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S&W Accumulator

Like many others here I don't hunt as much anymore as I used to when younger. I have always loved to hunt ducks, deer, doves and squirrels and anxiously anticipated the seasons opening every year. As I have grown older, like others have said, I don't really have the urge to kill like in the past. I suspect it may be connected to the fact that as we proceed into the waning years of life in this world the reality of our mortality starts to kick in and we tend to appreciate the the the things that really matter to a greater degree.

I am thankful that my 73 years still allow me to enjoy the outdoors with only a few physical limitations. Just being out in the woods away from the problems of the world for a little while is till as pleasurable as it has always been. Sitting quietly watching a red-tail hawk glide across a clearing, an occasional bobcat silently appearing at the edge of a game trail and in a moment disappearing again, even the thrashing around through the brush of Mr. armadillo are pleasures that we would never get to experience sitting home on the sofa. At such times I also feel very close to the Lord while enjoying the natural wonders he has so generously placed before us in his creation.

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S&W Armorer
Lost in the 50s

I was born into a hunting and fishing family. It seemed a necessity as the folks raised 12 of us with a single income. We Weren’t rich, but we had everything we needed.
Soon as I moved away from home I was hunting and fishing on my own. Married a girl from a hunting family and raised two daughters as hunters.
During those years I hunted anything and everything that was legal.
Big game was the main push and birds were hunted when there were no deer or elk seasons open or tags were filled.
Dad told me I would become a bird hunter and all but forget the big game. He did not follow that path, but must have seen something.
These days I do an annual archery elk hunt with my closest brother. We go for a week maybe a few days more and his sons in law go with us. The two youngsters hit it hard. My brother and I not so much. Shorter hunts, easier terrain. We call to the bulls mostly just to hear them answer us. Occasionally we call one in. Have not shot one in years.
I am now a bird hunter. Rather a man who runs pointers.. I am out there to enjoy the dogs. I love to watch them work the wind, course a cover and pin birds down. I used to direct the dogs where to hunt. Now I trail the older two as they know more about where to find the birds than I do. The youngster still get directed, but in a year or two She will be followed as well,
Of the two girls I raised, only the youngest hunts now. She has pretty much given up the big game.
My favorite days afield are spent with her and the dogs. I hope she learns to fully appreciate the wonder of a good bird dog and the feel of a quality gun in her hands.
Mostly I want her to learn that the sagebrush, bunch grass and creek bottoms are more important than the shot or retrieve.
As I get older, it is passing on what I have learned to appreciate that is the most important.

Main reason I go hunting is so my one brother and I can rfide around in our old stomping grounds and remember. Last year both girls and the wife got their deer. This year they have their deer. I have drug, dressed and boned out 3 deer. Will I shot one, If the buck of my dreams comes around close enough. Yes, If somebody who can't hunt wants one I probably will shot one towards the end of seas2on like I did last year. It isn't about the killing. Good excuse to co camping and wandering around in the hills.

My old Buddy and great friend of 50+ years just finished Our 51st Elk hunt together. At 75 years of age It was Our last. Unfortunately unsuccessful but still fulfilling and worthwhile. We still plan to hunt muzzle loading deer as the deer are a whole lot lighter and easier to handle. After 35 Elk and 10 deer during that time for Me I don't have a problem cutting back. My old buddy said " He walks through the woods, gets lost, kills an Elk, finds His way back to camp and We spend the next two days finding and packing out His elk. And My response to Him for 50 Years was " HXXX I got one didn't I?

At 76 yrs of age I have slowed down considerably. Last year was the first that I didn't hunt deer, and I really miss seeing and hearing the woods wake up in the morning. Grouse and pheasant hunts have been nonexistent for 5 years. Had to put my 16 yr old English Setter, Sam, down last year and I'm still missing him dearly.
On that note, while browsing the new books at the library, I almost passed on the book titled JENNY WILLOW by Mike Maddis.
The picture of an English Setter locked on point caught my eye.
The main character, Ben, could be any one of us aging hunters. Maddis is a hunter himself and beautifully describes that special kinship between man and dog as they both grow older.
It caused me to have a few weepy eyed moments.
Dave

I agree it is harder to hunt once the grey hair and good friends have moved away or passed away. I have a cousin that owns property 150 miles away that we hunt on. We always hunt together so neither of us gets in trouble alone. This past weekend he had something to do and could not go. I must of called 5 people asking they wanted to go hunting and all had some reason not to go. My wife was shocked when I said I was staying home and hand me the "Honey Do" list so I could accomplish something.

I haven't hunted for many years now, but about this time of year I always get a hankering to fill my pipe, scrape the leaves away from my feet, maybe pour a cup of coffee from a thermos, and listen for the tailgate to drop, and the dogs to strike.

I do miss the sound of the chase.

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John 3:16 .

That's the way my Dad started me. He was a dog hunter and had a pack of Blueticks and Redbones. He didn't like Walkers as they ran too far. There is NOTHING I REPEAT NOTHING more exciting than shooting at a running buck with his "after burners" on ahead of a pack of hounds.

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S&W Accumulator

My father is gone, I still miss him, especially during hunting season. Tomorrow my brother flies in and we'll take off on our annual prairie walk (aka bird hunting) and I have a deer tag and a cow elk permit. I'm of an age that if I get a shot at the cow, I'll take her, if I don't see a buck of my dreams, I'll probably pass. My last deer was 2 years ago, after passing for about 6 years. If he doesn't give me the shakes, I'll pass. My knees ache, my wrist kills me from arthritis and I don't know how much longer, I can go, but it's mainly about being with my brother these days. Who knows, maybe a pheasant will commit suicide also!

For us it used to be 3 generations, plus my oldest buddy. We all fit in a little 14' camper. We hunted every weekend during the season.

My son now has a very important job and he only gets to hunt the first weekend.

My buddy just turned 70 (as am I) and his heart disease limits him as well.

When Dad was with us, he always smoked a cigar after he ate lunch out in his stand. He continued to hunt into his 80s when his health declined. The first opening day after he passed I smelled cigar smoke. My first thought was "who was this trespasser on my property". When I walked over a small rise to investigate, there was nobody there.

I guess Dad never did stop hunting after all...

I haven’t hunted big game for a number of years: it’s seemed more like work than fun as I’ve gotten older.

I’m still bird hunting, although my pace is less intense than when I was in my 20’s, 30’s, 40’s and 50’s.

This year’s pheasant opener found the dogs and I out in the field again. The dogs are Field Bred Springers: one 12 years old, the other is 2. We’ll be out a lot in the coming months.

I must confess that the 12 year old Springer has aged better than I have: she can still wear me out long before she’s done for the day!

These are GREAT stories. Some get a little blurry at times.

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S&W Accumulator

Opening day last year I was up at 4:00, out the door at 5:00 and in pre-op at 6:00.
Rotator cuff repair on my right shoulder. While it was the first time for my rotator cuff it was my third operation for that shoulder.

May 21 2019 I had my third back operation.
Opening day this year I sat in my pop-up blind for 2 1/2 hours and had to leave, got home and had to take a extra norco and my back was still swollen up and hurt to much to go out in the afternoon. Second morning I lasted 1 1/2 hours and said that's it I'm done for this year.

Hopefully next year I can go again, but I'm not going to unless I see a big improvement in my back.

I didn't get to do any serious hunting until I was in my mid-40s and married to my third wife (she's now an ex, also, and so it goes). Her dad and brother used to hunt every Thanksgiving so they invited me along and that became a tradition for us, plus plenty of other weekends as well. I would just load up my truck and meet them at one place or another and then off to the deer woods. Even after the divorce we kept it up!

Sadly, they sold their little farm and that was the end of that.

Then I met some new friends into feral hog hunting so I got to do that quite a few times.

My favorite moments included sitting in a chair surrounded by brush as the sun came up and everything that was wet glistened like diamonds, you could hear squirrels running up and down tree trunks and branches, and you sometimes heard turkeys, sometimes lots of turkeys, and you might hear deer. Sometimes really close. Sometimes you actually took one but the overall experience was what I really loved.

Feral hog hunting at night, hard by the Rio Grande, was similar except that the sun was going down, the night critters began their chirping, zillions of stars were visible because there was no ambient light and, if you focused well, you might see a satellite zoom by or, even more fun, we once watched the space shuttle fly by. Maybe you used your gun, maybe you did not. No matter........

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Come and take it!!

Never trust a doctor that will operate on opening day of deer season!

I hope your back gets better. There is nothing more miserable.

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Possum—The other white meat!

My buddy's F-I-L was a real hunter. When he retired he built a house on his camping land, so he wouldn't have to drive far.

When his granddaughter was born the day before opening day, he had a fit and called his daughter in the hospital and yelled at her because her timing was off.

A few years later he had a heart attack and a quad bypass in September. We stopped in after he got home from the hospital. We stopped in every year just to talk about hunting and make sure we were still welcome on his property. We found him in the family room polishing his rifle. His wife came in and saw the gun and said no way I'll let you hunt this year...

Opening day I was in my stand early and I could barely hear the light rumble of a 4-wheeler. I saw his son driving it, and to my amazement he was pulling a trailer with a rocking chair on it. There was his dad, gun across his lap. Seconds after sunup......BOOM. I heard voices, and then I saw the 4-wheeler going back to the house, a big buck draped across the trailer, and Dad with the biggest smile you could imagine.

He passed away later that year. It was his best hunt ever...