Everywhere you looked their were deer. My dad and cousin were grilling supper one time and they came in the house for a few minutes and when they looked outside their was 3 deer in his backyard. So we were all pretty excited to go hunting the next day because their were so many deer around the area. The first day if hunting we went into the Black Hills and did a lot if walking to find some deer. When we finally found some my brother was the first to shoot, since he picked the bigger straw out of three, which was how we decided who gets to shoot first, he missed.
Some people think spending a day in the woods is relaxing and peaceful. I used to think that as well, until I went turkey hunting. Spending a day in the woods hunting with my brothers was frustrating, hard, and aggravating all at the same time because of the mistakes I made. It was a life changing experience. Hunting will get your blood pumping and your heart racing you’ll end up wanting to go turkey hunting more than you ever thought you would.
Of course we had to take a picture so I grabbed the deer's antlers and held them with pride. My dad was so proud of me, I was about the same age he was when he killed his first deer too. After see the deer and seeing where I shot it, it was time to get dirty. We walked back up to the tree to get the knife kit. On our way back to the deer we found the arrow it was so bloody and gross and smelled horrible.
I was taught to cast a fishing line and how to handle a 12 gauge shotgun by my father and my Uncle Joe. We’d spend countless hours fishing for trout, but most of our time went towards duck hunting and it is still the best way for me to relax and clear my mind. Duck hunting is a very social kind of hunt and that means it calms my spirit. Hunters experience nature in such a way that they become part of it, and when that experience is shared with another human, it forms a bond like no other. Some of the best conversations I’ve ever had took place sitting in a duck blind, waiting for the ducks to fly overhead.
Most people drive away deer scouting for food in their backyard. But for hunters, wildlife photographers, and outdoor enthusiasts (like me), a deer is a gem. Just like a woman, a deer is extremely hard to get. Trust me. Hunting started out as a hobby but quickly became my passion since I was young, and I would beg my dad to take me with him whenever he goes hunting.
I remember the days when it still got cold in October in those Tennessee hollows. Remember , those less than groomed fence rows and steep hillsides, perfect hideouts for coveys of bobwhite quail. Remember nearly jumping out of your boots walking those same hillside and hollows to your deer stand and a covey of 30 or more birds exploding all around you. Remember those days? I was fortunate to be raised by my cousin Tommy in Lynchburg Tennessee.
While playing with her cow, Sylvia “only laughed when she came upon Mistress Moolly at the swampside, and urged her affectionately homeward with a twig of birch leaves” (196). As Mrs. Tilley and the hunter discuss about birds, the hunter replies, “Oh no, they’re stuffed and preserved, dozens and dozens of them...and I have shot or snared every one myself” (199). Then the hunter makes a deal that he “ would give ten dollars to anybody as to find that heron’s nest...and [he means] to spend my whole vacation hunting for it if need be” (199). While wandering in the woods with the hunter, Sylvia “ could not understand why [the hunter] killed the very birds he seemed to like so much” (199). Sylvia’s relationship with her cow demonstrates her love of nature since her isolation taught her to appreciate it.
The most famous story of Hart 's escapades as a frontier patriot commenced when a group of six Tories came to her cabin and authoritatively mandated information concerning the location of a certain Whig bellwether. Only minutes earlier, the Whig, sultrily pursued by the Tories, had ceased by the Hart cabin and enlisted Hart 's avail as he made his elusion. Hart insisted that no one had passed through her neck of the woods for days. Convinced that she was being mendacious, one of the Tories shot and killed Hart 's prized gobbler. After authoritatively mandating her to cook the turkey, the Tories entered the cabin, stacked their weapons in the corner, and inductively authorized something to imbibe.
I am a mid 20’s man that lives in the country. I love to duck hunt; If there was anything that I could do all day everyday it would be duck hunting. When I was a young boy I started to duck hunt and it just stayed with me after that and now that is my life and I love to duck hunt with a passion. To me there isn’t anything better to do than duck hunt. If I could have a job duck hunting I would do it in a heartbeat.
As Game Bird Hunts once said, ”You might have a particular gun you prefer for bird hunting, but we all agree that having a gun that we love is something we can treasure for a lifetime.” To some people there is nothing like going out into the woods or grassland and knocking that awesome bird. Cleaning of a shotgun is extremely easy, there are three steps, those three steps are Gathering the supplies, the second step is to start cleaning the gun, and the final step is to clean up after you are done. The thing is that in order to get that perfect shot every time there is some maintenance to be done. Like anything else a shotgun can become worn over time without proper cleaning and maintenance. Now a days it is easy to come home from a hunt and be to excited to clean your kill or to do other things and forget to clean your weapon.
In order to provide for the year-round demand, Johnnie hired trusted friends to hunt pheasants, a majority of the time out-of-season. After a successful hunt, they hid the birds at predetermined locations inside of haystacks, the seemingly definitive South Dakota concealment. Subsequently, Johnnie made regular rounds to the haystacks to collect the pheasants, after which he drove the over one thousand mile round trip to buyers in Illinois. Sheriff Edward Maxwell couldn’t ignore the birds hidden in haystacks, as he did when wayward smoke drifted skyward disclosing the presence of a still. If a farmer occasionally shot a pheasant off his own property to feed his family, Maxwell could forgive the transgression.
as we race to the woods at 5 in the morning to shoot a deer, this was my very first time going hunting I was very excited be cause I had just go my 243 and was ready to shoot a deer. We went to the woods next to my cabin and we took out the guns and loade. When we got to a place where there were lots of beaten down runs we found a log that was next to a dead tree I placed the rifle on my lap and watches for and little movement, then an hour later we heard some sticks breaking. I pulled the sicht next to my eye and was looking all over with the scope and there was a giant squirrel. The next day we went to the woods next to my cabin and sat there until breakfast was ready and we had some bacon and eggs.
It was a spring night for Chubbers the chipmunk. It was an extremely challenging night for Chubbers. He was going to steal food that he desperately needed for winter, a twinkie. Chubbers was a very fat chipmunk, although that did not affect his ninja instincts. He spent five years developing his ninja instinct.
Rural Ohio, where one wakes up to only the sound of birds and can look out their window to witness a herd of deer gracefully walking into the woodline or tom-turkeys strutting in the fields. I would never choose a different place to live because not only is it beautiful and untouched but it is also the place where one can discover something new each day and feel connected to the world around them. However, what multitudes of people do not realize is that there is a contract and tradition that makes our relationship with nature complete. This contract is known as the sport of hunting and is crucial to the people living in the United States. For some, they see hunting as cruel; nonetheless, I was lucky to grow-up in a house where my family let
We did pretty much everything together: he taught me how to do everything that I know how to do. The first time I ever went hunting was with my dad when I was three years old. I have two older sisters that are twins; they just turned twenty-two in july. As a little kid I was good but also very ornery at the same time. With my sisters being older I would always be wanting to go do stuff with them and they would get annoyed by me a lot.