Hey guys...thanks for some awesome pics and great stories...I envy a lot of you guys and gals who have stories of family hunting trips...sorry I cannot contribute cause the good old days start with me. No one in my family ever hunted, grandfather, dad , uncles , cousins....no one. Hopefully 25 years from now this site is still going strong and my son has something to post....thanks again guys
Memorial Day and missing my dad. Fought in Korea as a marine. After vet school and teaching vet medicine at CSU for several years he took a position teaching large animal medicine in Kenya. The attached photos are of him in uniform, his elephant tusks (that's me on the left of the photo) and the end of the flag ceremony at Arlington when the gunnery sergeant said to my mom, "On behalf of the President, the Corps, and a grateful nation, thank you for his and your service".
35 years and 35 pounds ago. I dont have any deer pics or simlilar , I did manage to scan a few old prints I found a while back...
back in the day you could make a few bucks running a line...this is the largest beaver I ever caught...60 lbs...w/ a 330 conibear...that old packbasket is still around...a prized possesion...
a nice lodge that held a few nice beavers...these critters managed to flood 30 acres of land...they had to go...
a good red fox male was worth up to 70 dollars back then...a really good days wage for sure! here is a pleasant surprise at a dirt set with a #2 oneida ...
Time to poke this thread back to life........Kenya, circa 1968/69
My dad hanging an African antelope (I think it's a big impala) from an acacia tree. I'm on the left holding the sweater and the goofy look in the face.
My sister and I, along with a couple of Maasai on a "hunt day". A runner would drag a lure over hill and over dale, and then the hounds and the mounted hunters would have a quite proper fox hunt.
Here's one from the early 80's. I guess some of the younger guys might think of that as the "old days". This was in the Ruby Mtns of NV. We took a lot of bucks from that same canyon over the years.
I found my buck in a snow storm late in the day on the Custer. The next day my brother and I went in to get him out. The plan was to walk out to a great vantage point in the morning, I would point out where my buck was and my brother would hunt his way down to him. I would drive around to the bottom of the canyon and walk up. We would meet at the buck and drag him out the bottom.
We got out on the point just after shooting light. It was cold, clear and few inches of fresh snow. Deer were everywhere. I think we spotted close to 50 from that point. There was a good buck up in the head of the canyon and another on a ridge in the middle. Both were 170+. We then spotted a great buck across the canyon. Hard to tell how big as it was a long ways off but he was a dandy. We decided that my buck could wait so we started to go back to the truck It was easier drive to the other side of the canyon and then walk out a ridge to see if we could get a better look and the buck. On the walk back we ran into good buck chasing a doe through a saddle two hundred yards away. I put up my binoculars and my brother asks " How good is he? I replied "he has real big cheaters" Boom. My buck is thirty one outside but very light antlers. My brothers is heavy with two nine inch hooking cheaters. The year was 1988. My brother and I still talk about that morning. It was an great morning even for back in the 80's. Hard for me to take how much it has changed. A friend and I were out on that same point two years ago, Same conditions, maybe a little colder. We saw less than ten deer. One was a 20 inch three point.
While on safari (literally translated as "journey") sometimes we would pull over and do lunch on the hood of the International Harverster Scout that dad would use if "going up country". Rough roads and an even rougher ride on leaf springs.
On most safaris my dad would pack a fairly extensive first aid/surgery kit, and once word got out that he was in the area, all sorts of people with lots of medical problems would appear almost as if out of thin air, wanting medical care. As a veterinarian, he did quite a bit of surgery and wound care of the local folks, and sometimes on their (nearly revered) cattle. Sometimes this humanitarian effort got in the way of hunting and adventuring.
I think this woman posing with my mom and me is from the Samburu tribe. They would maintain that they were the real deal pastoralists, while the Maasai were pretenders.
Kansasdad, don't you wish you still had that IH Scout? I keep saying I'm going to buy one of those old 4x4s and fix it up ..........
I love coming back to this thread and seeing what's new in the old department.
The top photos are two of my dads bow kill bucks from the 90s. The bottom pictures of two of mine also from the 90s
some more deer, my brothers best buck on the upper right
Upper left is dad and friend Rudy in either Pennsylvania or Kentucky
Upper right is dad and friend Steve in Ontario
Lower left is dads first P&Y buck with a bow from the early 70s
Lower right is dad and my late uncle Carl who was a Sheriffs deputy