I got my 1st Deer Rifle when I was 11 years old. It was a Model 94 Winchester. When I was 13 years old Dad exchanged the 30:30 for a 30:06. It was a Remington Model 760 Pump. We had a cabin in West Virginia on the South Branch of the Potomac River. I hunted deer with my bow and squirrel with my Remington Model 714 22 LR, but my first deer hunt did not occur until I was 16 years old. We had moved to Utah and big mule deer in the '60s were as thick as flies. I got my first reloading set on Christmas Day 1962 and have been reloading since. I reload for about 55 calibers and cast bullets for each rifle and pistol I own. Utah has many different climes. It has the West Deseret, the high Uintah's, Canyonlands, the Wasatch Mountains, the Henrys, etc. I have hunted Deer, Elk, Antelope and Buffalo. I have wanted to hunt Moose, but my wife thinks they are too cute to shoot, so that hunt is taboo. Utah has more mountains over 10,000 feet than any state in the U.S. (including Alaska). I have been stalked by Mountain Lion and Wolf.
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- Thread starter Bun
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Bo Diddley
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Welcome, sir! America sure sounds like the land of milk & honey. I'm sure you've noticed a few changes in your time though, plenty of space still to find some solitude.
Welcome from Essex UK
Right now, it seems to be the land of sour mild and far right Republicans. Nothing new in the U.S.'s history, or for that matter the U.K.'s history. I am an English, Welch, Scottish, Irish American with a Dutch name given to my Dutch Immigrant great, great, great grandfather who came from the city of Hoorn in Holland. Twigg, Dando, Price, McDonald, McCreary and Hamilton are just some of the U.K. names of my ancestors.
The only hunting I have done with a dog was with my dad. Dad had a male beagle named 'Ol Charger' that he hunted rabbits in Maryland with. I recall heading out into the woods on my grandfather's farm with Dad and 'Ol Charger'. Dad would stop in a small open spot in the woods. 'Ol Charger' would look up and Dad would quietly tell the hound "Go get 'em". 'Ol Charger' would take off to the left and run in a big circle. Soon you would hear 'Ol Charger' howling. You could track 'Ol Charger's' progress by his deep throated howling. The rabbit would enter the small open spot in the woods from the right, with 'Ol Charger' directly behind it. Dad would fire his Remington Model 11 semi-auto shotgun once and 'Ol Charger' would retrieve the rabbit, then look up to
Dad. Dad would then quietly tell 'Ol Charger' ""Go get 'em" and off to the left 'Ol Charger' would take off. When I was a few years older, 'Ol Charger' was hampered and sick from old age. I remember walking up past Pop's (my grandfather) chicken coup with Dad, his 12 Gauge Model 11 in hand, 'Ol Charger' faithfully following us. Dad stopped and 'Ol Charger' looked up at Dad, but this time Dad did not instruct 'Ol Charger' to "Go get 'em". One shotgun blast and 'Ol Charger' was running rabbits in the hereafter. 'Ol Charger' is buried on Pop's farm on Collier's Mountain, Maryland.
My youngest son, who lives in Mesa, AZ and runs a Bio-Chem lab at ASU, drew out for Antelope in Utah. We are heading up to Northeastern Utah by the Green River and the Ute Indian Reservation for the hunt which begins on August 1st. He will use my Remington Model 7 in 7mm-08 Ackley Improved for the hunt. I'll take my 577-450 Martini rifle for a fun backup (no Zulus up there, just ornery Indians). I'll put in for Utah's open bull elk hunt next week. I haven't shot an Elk for about 5 years.
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