Memories on Fathers Day

Dakota Swede

Dakota Swede

New member
I put some of this on a different post, but thought is was appropriate on Fathers Day. I would be interested in seeing some other people respond with their memories.

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Not enough time and effort is put into getting the next generation interested in the outdoors.

And that may come back to haunt all of us in the next couple decades.

When I was was a young boy, 7, 8, 9 (nearly 5 decades ago) my family kept out of state pheasant hunters on our South Dakota farm.

It was my favorite season of the year. I walked with the hunters, listened to their banter, carried birds, watched the birds dogs work, and couldn't wait for the day dad would let me carry a gun.

When I was 12, I got to carry an old 20 gauge single-shot. The limit was 3 roosters a day. And I got 3 shells for the day.

The message was - be very careful with this gun. Be careful when you shoot, and that when you shoot you have a good chance of success.

No "put as much lead in the air as you can". No sky-busting. The message was - this is a tool, respect it and I will teach you how to use it properly.

My dad took the time to teach a boy how to hunt. He is in his 80's now. What sweet memories he has blessed me with! Happy Fathers Day Dad.
 
For about as long as I can remember friends and relatives have been coming here on opening weekend to hunt. I would tag along as a walker with my Daisy BB gun. We did not go on any big hunts but Dad would find time for us to go walk through the trees or a slough. We still have friends and family come for opening weekend. It is a great excuse to have a reunion.
 
I to remember those early days when even before I could carry a gun myself and my cousins would help block at the end of corn rows,play bird dog and chase down wounded birds and just had a grand old time. We were happy to be included in the hunt and over time we all finally got that chance to be part of the group as a hunter. Boy those were the times.

I wonder Swede if we did not cross paths back then as I see you list your location as Unityville and that is where I did most of my early hunting on uncle Ken Larson's farm in Unityville SD.
 
Father's Count

Your dad did a great job rearing you and introducing you to the world of hunting and the outdoors generally. I particularly like the three shell limit -- son, shotgun shells don't grow on trees, a variation on an adage.
 
I have lots of fond memories of hunting with my father. He took the time to properly teach me how to handle a firearm. Started me out early (6-8 years old) on an old single shot .22 rifle. We'd go out and shoot gophers or else head to the city dump (now called a "landfill") at about sundown and shoot rats. I tagged along on pheasant hunts from the time I was old enough to walk. My father did mostly road hunting as he lost a leg in a farming accident when he was 23, got caught in a binder. The old artificial limbs they had back in the 40's and 50's were not good for walking but he still tried. I remember the nights he spend nursing blisters on his stump after a day in the field. But I know he did it for me and I've been hooked ever since. I never had a son myself, 2 daughters that never had any interest in hunting, so I didn't get to pass on what my father gave me. But I have a 5 year old grandson that I'm hoping to introduce to the sport. :)
 
My dad had the same idea that many of your's seemed to have. I was given my first shotgun at around the age of 8 maybe. It was a small single shot 20 gauge and I was allowed a very limited number of shells. Before that I had my grandpa's old .22 and my dad would take me target shooting or squirrel hunting with that. But the earliest memory I have of being in the woods with my dad was when I was about 3 or 4 years old. He had shot a deer the evening before with his bow and was unable to find it before it got too dark. He got me up early and carried me through the woods all day long on his shoulders teaching me how to track game and search for a blood trail. My dad passed away early in his life, about 10 years ago, so it is nice to think back on everything he taught me and all the things I can pass on to my kids now.
 
I taught both of my son's upland and big game hunting. My eldest son hunts upland but prefers the big game stuff and rifles. My young son he is just the opposite. He prefer upland like me. I now have a grandson that will be hunting this fall. Only his father won't be here, he is in Afghanistan and will not be home until after the first of January.......Bob
 
My father started me with hunting when i was about ten. I hunted with him alone untill i was 12. Then i was allowed to go with the group of his buddies out to Phillupsburg in the mid 70's. What a great day it was on the friday before opening day. Unfortunately my dad died when i was 17. I hunted for some years after, but then because of work, I stopped for a few years. I have just started back the last 6 or 7, and am getting my boys involved. It has been good for both them and me. That is one of the best things to pass on to your kids.
 
Pheasantaddict - yes, that is a Vizsla on my avator. Had lots of different breeds of hunting dogs in my life, but I must admit I really love my Vizslas.

SDJIM - it is a small world. I grew up 3 miles north of Unityville. We still keep hunters on our farm (my brother still farms the homeplace) each fall. My sister lives in California and bought 80 eighty acres with a farmstead on it. I stay there when I'm back at the farm. It is the Kenneth Larson farmstead, within sight of Unityville and the former Old Round Barn. As I said, it really is a small world!
 
Swede uncle Kens farm was north of unityville, it sat on the west side of a north/south road at the southern end of a slew, had the barn blown down by a tornado once. The slew is no longer there nor are any of the buildings;)
 
SDJIM - The farmstead that we now call the "Homestead House" is 1/2 mile north of the Unityville tar on a North/South road.

The quarter has been tiled so there wasn't much water (until the big rains last year).

There are no out-buildings left, just an old concrete silo. The white square farmhouse is on the east side of the road, about 50 yards back, with the porch set to watch some really great sunsets.

Just across the road and to the south a bit is the Stark house, only used in the summer or fall nowdays.
 
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