Old Warrior
I was one of the lucky ones. My dad was a hunter and started taking me hunting at the ripe young age of five. I killed my first deer at the age of seven. My dad worked two jobs for as long as I can remember. Working 14–16-hour days was the norm. My mom stayed home with us kids. We didn’t know it, but we were barely scraping by. He didn’t have the money for a deer lease most years, so my hunting was sparse and intermittent until he saved up enough money to buy a nice tract of land when I was in college. When we did go hunting, it was always a meat hunt. You shot the first buck that walked by your homemade ladder stand. We didn’t have corn feeders, protein feeders, or cottonseed. That cost too much money back then.
I always loved opening morning in…



A 150 with grandpa's old .41 would be amazing happy hunting!