Like grandpa does

[40caljustice]

I remember being younger and taking road trips with my grandpa back to where he grew up and just listen to his stories from the old days. His stories captivated me of how hunting used to be back in the old days. I've heard all his stories about a dozen times and still bring them up and ask him to tell it from time to time.

What about you guys? Do y'all have any stories you wouldn't mind sharing with the rest of us. I enjoy hearing them. It passes the time and is very intriguing. It can be your story or one you heard from someone like your grandpa or father. Thanks guys.

[fatwhiteboy]

I take the 5th....

[40caljustice]

Haha. Yea bud. I got a few like that too. Seems like most everyone is. Haha. Must be a slow night.

[Scorch]

The main problem with nostalgia is that the "good old days" really weren't that good, you just remember the glossy photos at the end of the trip and embellish it from there. I remember sitting in on a reunion where the menfolk were waxing nostalgic and listening to one of the great stories of hunts long gone. Suddenly one of the other men there asked the teller if that was the time they got stuck in the snow and ended up getting sprayed by a skunk.

Some folks just remember things a little different.

[ZeroJunk]

My grandpa told me that they were out hunting and a hoop snake got after Homer, a rare venomous snake that would take his tail in his mouth and roll through the woods like a wheel. The snake missed Homer and hit a little sappling with it's poisonous barb. The sappling started growing and in a few weeks the tree was 30 feet in diameter. They cut the tree and built a 12 room house out of it. Unfortunately after a few months time the poison started to evaporate out of the wood and it began to shrink. In a few weeks time all they were left with was a little doll house.

[aarondhgraham]

My grandmother was first generation German/American,,,
She had all of the folk remedies.

If the kids got colds she would make my grandfather shoot a skunk,,,
Then the kids would all have to sit in a circle around it,,,
The stink was supposed to cure the sniffles.

Papa told me this and I didn't believe him,,,
Mom said, "Oh yeah, it cleared your sinuses right out."

Yuck!

Aarond

[Microgunner]

My Dad used to pay me 50 cents for every crow or blue jay I killed with my little Winchester .22short single shot. I loved laying as still as I could near the garden to get a shot on one. You learn a lot about what lives in the grass when you do that.

[40caljustice]

That snake story is a trip. Haha. I can remember a story my grandpa told me when I was a kid. I was too young and gullable too not believe it and I'm not too sure I don't believe it now.

He used to have permits to hunt at our local airport. The deer would stand on the runway and cause accidents with landing airplanes. He and another fella would go to a corner and sit on their tool boxes and drink coffee and shoot deer. This airport is very small. Only a few planes leave and come back a week. They would shoot the deer that broke into the fence. There's this one story he told me that sticks into my mind just about everytime I think about big bucks.

His partner shot a deer that was quite a distance away. They drove to the deer and were getting out of their truck when the stood up. Grandpa said he bout pooped himself because he thought his partner had shot a pony. The biggest deer he had ever saw. The deer rose on its hind legs and slammed his front feet on the truck bed that was already open. Pops said shot it with his little .38 he keeps in his back pocket fro about 6 foot away. The deers momentum forced into the truck bed where it kicked until he put another in his ear. He was so happy he didn't have to load it up. Haha. They took the deer to the skinning shed and strung it up. They started skinning the Buck and he said it was the toughest deer he has ever used a blade on. Now here in central VA the deer average about #130-150 lbs. There are a few exception to the rule. Big big deer come in just over 200lbs. That's halfway believable. Anything more I would have to see it. Pops said this deer was estimated 240 field dressed. That's almost unheard of around here. I believe he said this was back in the late 60's early 70's.

I'm torn with this one. I'm wanna believe pops but id have to think he stretched it a bit. Anything is possible and weirder things have happened. His story.

[JWT]

Sad part is now I'm grandpa.

[bamaranger]

My Grand Dad bought an early Win M88.308 in 1956, Montgomery Wards shipped it to his house. He was understandably proud of it. Some of my earliest and only memories are of Pap taking that rifle out of the box and showing it to me.

Pap would move all the chairs out from the dining room table and cover the table with a blanket. That was our "tent". He'd prop the M88 in a corner. Sometimes he would light a kerosene lantern and set it out in the room. We were at "deer camp."

I have the rifle, factory box with 1956 ship date,and the handwritten note he wrote, leaving the rifle to me. Killed my first whitetail with it, though now I hunt it very sparingly.

[sc928porsche]

I can remember a lot of tales told around the campfire by granddad and relatives. Most of them were usually of a humorous nature........you know.........to imbarrase the the one sitting next to them. Great times and great stories with added embelishments. Our extended family does this every year during deer season. We call it our family reunion. I am now one of those grandpas. The good old days are still here for some.

[PawPaw]

Originally Posted by JWT

Sad part is now I'm grandpa.

Sad? Heck, I revel in it. I like being a grandfather. The best part is teaching the grandkids to shoot, like I taught their parents. Plus, you get to buy rifles. A couple of years ago, my lady was sitting with me in the evening. "You know", she says, "those grandboys are going to want to hunt with you. You'd best start picking up a rifle or two, if you find a good deal."

I've never been a 4-wheeler rider, preferring to walk the woods like any self-respecting hunter. As I approach age 60, the walks up the pipelines were getting a little longer, the hills a little steeper. So, my lady and I stopped by a motorcycle store to look at 4-wheelers. She walked directly over to the largest side-by-side in the place. A big ole 4-seater. "This is the one you need" she says. "Plenty of room for the grandkids."

I've got to build a couple more deer stands this year. I love being a grandpa.

[hooligan1]

My grandfather on my dad's side passed when he was just 38 from pnuemonia. My mothers dad was a hog farmer in Lamoni Iowa, that had alot of land, a few ponds, and a big garden every season. He would ALWAYS show up at the pond with an empty pan and a fillet knife, and when you got done filleting all of your catch he would take it and leave! He always like to see me and my brother and my cousins kill deer and turkeys off that ole farm. This is to you Pappy I will always love you and Grandma, and will always cherish those moments when everything was so simple and cool!!

[buck460XVR]

Early in life I loved to hear my grandpa's tall tales of his hunting adventures. I took them as Gospel and they instilled a love of hunting that has lasted my whole life. Later on in life I learned grandpa was a much better storyteller than hunter. Still loved to hear him tell his tales tho........

[Mayor Al]

My Grandparents and my Mother (as an infant) came to the USA in 1912. He was an educated mechanical engineer who did well over the years in the automotive industry.
All of his family (4 brothers and 2 sisters) remained in what is now the Czech Republic. They endured the Nazi and Soviet Occupations and the other difficulties that cn be linked to those periods in history. Grandpa kept in close contact with the family in Europe thru-out his life. As a kid in the 1950's and up to his passing in the early 70's, he would tell me of the harsh treatment of his family by the Germans and later by the Russians. At times he would get very emotional as he spoke, reading letters from his brothers to me. I grew up during the Cold War and always remember the tales he passed on to me. Over the past decade I have built a relationship with one of my Czech (2nd) cousins who lives in the CzRep. His Grandfather was killed by the Nazi in 1944 as a retaliation for some resistance action . I shared with him the letters I now hold, that werre passed down to me by my grandpa that related the story of this action. It is a real 'good' feeling to build those bridges of communication with distant family... and makes me think even more about how hard my grandpa worked to make the 'family' links stronger.

[JWT]

I meant sad part is I'm grandpa now because mine isn't around.

I've had a great time teaching my grandson to shoot. Started him out when he was 8 with a .22 single shot bolt action. He took to that like a duck to water.

This spring I bought him a .20 ga. pump and let him start working on trap shooting. He had never shot a scatter gun before and the recoil was a surprise. Still, he shot at about 75 targets before deciding his shoulder had enough. He can't wait to get out again. Unfortunately he lives in a different state and will have to wait a few months.

He enjoys the shooting tremendously and his mother was very supportive when I said I thought it was time for me to get him into shooting and buy a few guns that are 'his'.

Yup, I agree being a grandpa ain't bad at all.

[jimbob86]

What about you guys?

I love telling stories!

Grandpa stories.....

My Grandpa worked for the County Roads Dept. in a ....... very rural area. In the early summer, when we got to stay at "Granpa and Gramma's", he was mostly running a road grader ("Maintainer" was what he called it). If you went "Ridin the Maintainer", that meant getting up before the sun, packing a lunchbox, and cruising throuh the countryside for 8 hours on an enormous (to a 6-10 y.o. kid!) piece of heavy equipment, stopping for only for 2 coffee breaks and a 1/2 hour lunch ...... funny how these breaks always happened when we saw a coyote, "sport model crow" or a prairie dog town...... Granpa kept his .22 rifle in one of my Uncle Mike's (Not that "Uncle Mike's" company- my uncle, Mike Russell, invented and manufactured these things) "Outa-Site" gun racks in the cab of the road grader.... what better way to spend a day when you were a kid?

I learned many important things on those rides, including how not to pee into the wind......

[603Country]

My Grandpa taught me to shoot. He was a machine gun and rifle instructer in WWI. He could shoot anything with a trigger and he was amazing to watch. He had such patience with me. Then, as time passed my Dad became the Grandpa and now that title has passed to me (though my Dad is still alive at 85 and still hunts a little). But...the story...many years ago when I was a teenager, I shot a buck that was maybe 3/4 of a Louisiana muddy mile from any road I could reach to be able to pick the deer up with Dad's truck - after I walked another mile to get that truck. We're talking pre-ATV existence, for those of you that don't remember having to drag deer. I was a sturdy football player, but dragging that deer through the mud forever was taking its toll on me. I stopped for the 143rd time to suck some air and cool off a bit, and I heard a voice from the dark woods. It was my Dad, and he said "Boy, I thought you'd never get here". He was sitting on a log, smoking a cigarette, and waiting for me as he watched me trudge through the endless mud. All I could do was grunt at him. Besides...back then he was still bigger than me, I had another 1/4 mile to go and he had the truck keys. He still laughs about that hunt.

[Mayor Al]

One of the high points of the planning of our upcoming Hog Hunt is me and the other Grandpa taking our 13 yr old Grandson with us on the Hunt. He's never been to Texas, so a long string of BBQ stops and visits to the Alamo etc are part of the weekend before we go into the ranch for the three day hunt. He is really psyched up for this, as are his two Granpas. A real family history event is going to take place shortly !

[603Country]

Mayor Al, that sounds like a great trip for the grandkid. If you're going south down I35 to get to San Antonio, let me suggest a stop at the Snake Farm (either at San Marcos or New Braunfels, I forget). You don't see many old fashioned Snake Farms anymore. It's right on the service road on the right. My grandkids just loved that place, and they loved Natural Bridge Caverns too. And ya gotta go to the TX Ranger Museum/Western Museum in San Antonio. It's great and it's real close to the Alamo.

Forgive me for getting off topic, but I just had to interject that...

[Art Eatman]

I'm aware of the Texas Ranger museum at Waco, but another at SanTone?

The snake farm thing is near New Braunfels. Disremember is it north or south, though.

The Breckenridge Zoo in San Antonio is a Neat Thing.

Mayor Al, do some Googling.

[603Country]

That TX Ranger Museum that I mentioned in San Antonio is smaller than the one in Waco (at least the Ranger section is smaller), but it has several museum areas other than that on the Rangers. They have a zillion stuffed animals and fish, and several display areas about people (Ad Topperwein, for one) and cultures that are really interesting. They even had two stuffed Passenger Pigeons, which I didn't know anybody had. And...best of all there's a bar in the middle of all of that. I had a Bloody Mary or two while I walked through the museum. The wife and grandkids loved it also. It was much more than we had ever expected. I just can't remember the name of it, but I know it's on Google.

The snake farm is on the right service road, going south.

[aarondhgraham]

We moved onto Drummond Island off of the tip of the Upper Peninsula,,,
There was a bar/restaurant, trading post, general store,,,
In the bar were several fine mountings of Jackalopes.

My grandfather (and my dad) told me that they only lived on the island,,,
They could be called with a small whistle but you needed to be on something tall,,,
They were vicious little critters and would charge you with those sharp horns and gore your legs,,,
The islanders said they were so mean and terrible that even the wolverines wouldn't mess with an adult jackalope.

So imagine a 4-year old boy,,,
Sitting on a picnic table late at night,,,
Wrapped in a blanket, with a whistle, and his trusty Daisy BB rifle.

Dad still tells the story to this day,,,
He and my grandfather left me out there most of the night.

Everything Grandfathers did wasn't all that happy & carefree.

Aarond

[PawPaw]

My grandad was a duck hunter, he started as a young man market hunting on a place called Black Lake near Natchitoches, LA. It's still a duck haven with lots of mallards and pintails taken there ever year.

He shot everything with a 20 gauge Model 12 pump shotgun. Everything. Ducks, squirrels, geese, it didn't matter, he and that pump shotgun were inseparable. When he was a young man, before my time, he sent the gun back to Winchester and had it regulated for the Winchester-Western #5 High Brass load. Back in those days a craftsman would take your shotgun and your preferred ammo and make it shoot just exactly to the point of aim with the best possible pattern. His gun would shoot those old paper shells and put all the shot in a 20" circle at 40 yards.

I never could shoot that shotgun, it shot too closely and I'd miss.

The old man complained in his later years that the new-fangled steel shot never killed as well as his old #5 shot. I think that he slipped a couple of those old shells in his pockets to use when we were hunting the Grand Chenier for geese.

[30-30remchester]

I recall them clearly wheather they really happened or not.