Post by Ron on Oct 6, 2008 20:11:21 GMT -6
As a kid growing up on the farm, My Dad was far to busy to find time to do much hunting. He only took me bowhunting two times but they were some of the most exciting and memorable hunts I ever had. No game was taken but we had a hell of a time. I did however have and Uncle named Stanley That was my Dad's older brother by 10 years. Uncle Stan was my hunting mentor.
Stanley lived in on the home farm most of his life but later moved to Milwaukee but each fall, Uncle Stan would live at my Parents house for about a month. It was Uncle Stan that took me on the majority of my outdoor adventures. He was a hunting mentor that taught me a lot of what I know today. We spent a lot of time picking mushrooms which is where he showed me a lot about reading deer sign. We spent a lot of time hunting and since we hunted the home farm where he grew up, He already knew the spots to take me.
My first weekend bowhunt this year was in a spot Stand showed me about 30 years ago. Stan was a guy would could tell a tale as well and my 4 Brothers and I would listen to his stories that sounded like something you would read in field and stream or Outdoor Life. Each day when we got home from school, there was some sort of story and some mushrooms and small game or fish since Stan had the whole day to just do as he pleased.
One day in November, when I got home, Stan told me that he seen a bunch of deer down by the lake near a cedar swamp and that we should go check them out. I grabbed the Ben Pearson Super Jet and we headed out. When we got to the edge of the swamp he pointed out a spot of blood on a leaf and said that one of those deer must have been injured and that we should try and track it.
Stan told me to tell him every time I saw blood because he said my eyes were better than his. As we moved along, I would point out the blood. It took us deeper into the cedar swamp. We tracked that blood for about 100 yards until I could find no more. I started looking over the whole area as Stan watched me search for more sign. When I could find no more, I looked to Stan who was standing next to a large doe that was hanging from a rope thrown over a high branch. I was so focused on the ground that I never looked up and saw the gutted out deer hanging there.
Stand said that I did such a good job tracking that I could help him drag it back to the farm house. We had trucks and tractors that would have made the job easier but I never suggested it. stan and I went on many a hunt. As he got older, he would spend less and less time at our farm each fall and then finally, only came up for the gun deer season. He hunted until 1998 when he was 74 years old. A few medical conditions and his age kept him out of the woods after that. This is a picture from the last year Stan hunted with us.
My Sons were not of hunting age yet so they never got a chance to hunt with stan but much of what I pass onto them, came from him so without them knowing it, stan had a big impact on their lives as well.
Stan died today at the age of 84 at St. Luke's in Milwaukee. I was doing pretty good until I typed that line.
Stanley lived in on the home farm most of his life but later moved to Milwaukee but each fall, Uncle Stan would live at my Parents house for about a month. It was Uncle Stan that took me on the majority of my outdoor adventures. He was a hunting mentor that taught me a lot of what I know today. We spent a lot of time picking mushrooms which is where he showed me a lot about reading deer sign. We spent a lot of time hunting and since we hunted the home farm where he grew up, He already knew the spots to take me.
My first weekend bowhunt this year was in a spot Stand showed me about 30 years ago. Stan was a guy would could tell a tale as well and my 4 Brothers and I would listen to his stories that sounded like something you would read in field and stream or Outdoor Life. Each day when we got home from school, there was some sort of story and some mushrooms and small game or fish since Stan had the whole day to just do as he pleased.
One day in November, when I got home, Stan told me that he seen a bunch of deer down by the lake near a cedar swamp and that we should go check them out. I grabbed the Ben Pearson Super Jet and we headed out. When we got to the edge of the swamp he pointed out a spot of blood on a leaf and said that one of those deer must have been injured and that we should try and track it.
Stan told me to tell him every time I saw blood because he said my eyes were better than his. As we moved along, I would point out the blood. It took us deeper into the cedar swamp. We tracked that blood for about 100 yards until I could find no more. I started looking over the whole area as Stan watched me search for more sign. When I could find no more, I looked to Stan who was standing next to a large doe that was hanging from a rope thrown over a high branch. I was so focused on the ground that I never looked up and saw the gutted out deer hanging there.
Stand said that I did such a good job tracking that I could help him drag it back to the farm house. We had trucks and tractors that would have made the job easier but I never suggested it. stan and I went on many a hunt. As he got older, he would spend less and less time at our farm each fall and then finally, only came up for the gun deer season. He hunted until 1998 when he was 74 years old. A few medical conditions and his age kept him out of the woods after that. This is a picture from the last year Stan hunted with us.
My Sons were not of hunting age yet so they never got a chance to hunt with stan but much of what I pass onto them, came from him so without them knowing it, stan had a big impact on their lives as well.
Stan died today at the age of 84 at St. Luke's in Milwaukee. I was doing pretty good until I typed that line.
