That is a cool story and a awesome photo.This is a pic of my Dad shortly after he followed my Mom and her family to OR. He was from OK, but had met my Mom in AZ while working loading train cars and trucks with produce (mostly lettuce) as a migrant worker. This photo was taken in the 50's at the home property we still own in OR. Dad and Grandpa cleared the property for farming.
This is a big old blacktail that was taken near the same area I killed a big non-typical blacktail a few years back.
I might post this in the favorite pic thread also. Besides pics of my kids with their animals, this is probably one of my all time favorite hunting pics. My sister still has his 30.30 model 94 Winchester that is in the pic also.
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Wow! What a great Story, I was so glad I came across this. Like you, I share hunting as a passion with my fathe and I would never trade him nor our shared passion for anything else. Thank you for your story1974.....I was 10 years old at the time. I still remember my dad going to the local gun shop in Riverside California and buying a Winchester Model 70 in .243. We would often go shooting out in "Pigeon Pass" near where we lived and I got to shoot the new rifle a few times which I thought was pretty cool.
That fall my dad had booked a hunt in the Wrangel Mountains in Alaska with Doug Vaden. My dad would be hunting moose, Dall sheep for my oldest brother (15 years older than I), and caribou for my brother in law. I was along as my dad's moose hunting sidekick. I had fun in base camp exploring, throwing road apples at the girl my age in camp, finding moose sheds, fishing for grayling and listening to stories around the dinner table. I still remember the outfitter telling us how when he first discovered the lodge building it was full of hair from hibernating grizzlies.
One afternoon we went for a horseback ride along the White River. After we had turned back towards camp we came across a lone caribou bull. My brother-in-law was asked if he wanted to take him and he decided to wait (later he killed a B&C bull!). My dad then asked me if I wanted to shoot it. Up to that point I had absolutely NO idea I was hunting. I took a "rest" prone over my dad and with his breathing the crosshairs were all over the place. A couple shots later I had my first big game animal ever. I later learned the outfitter had told my dad he enjoyed having kids along on the hunts and if my dad bought me a tag, the he would let me take a caribou for free. That was my first an only big game animal until I moved to Oregon at 18 years of age.
My dad cultivated my love for hunting and fishing. I've since lost my dad and mom in an auto accident in 1999. But I know that one day we will see each other again.