Who inspired your interest in hunting?

To this day my Dad is a hunting buddy to me. He’s 79 years old this season. I’m now 52 and can’t wait to go out hunting with my Daddy!!!
I have the exact same story only I'm 57, Dad is 83. He was the best man at my wedding and, like I just mentioned, we hunted together this past Friday, Saturday and Monday and about 800 other times. Other than the usual growing up stuff, we've never had a cross word with one another. He's seen every deer I've ever killed. I thank the Lord often for these blessings and selfishly ask for more.
 
Very interesting to read how people got into hunting!

My story is a bit different to most it seems. Growing up in Belgium in an anti-gun and non-hunting family, I was never exposed to hunting. Not one of my extended family (around 50+) nor any of my friends were in hunting either.

However, with my weekly passage to the library to get a new set of books (between 8 and 18yo), I was reading lot's of adventure type books. Karl May's Winnetou and Old Shatterhand Western stories, Heinlein's short science fiction stories, and myriad others made me dream about independence, exploring, being self sufficient and also hunting.

A few years later, around the age of 26 and working in Paris at the time, I heard of one of my Belgian neighbours who would be taking the hunting exam. My brother and I decided to also go for it. Despite the reservations my father had (he was the most anti-gun). We passed the exam's and then through relations ended up with a man who I now consider a friend of the family, my mentor in a sense in all things related to hunting.

A year and a half after my brother and I did our hunting license, my father also passed his' and since then we have gradually stepped up our game, up to the last culmination. A safari in South Africa for my father and I.
 
I love these threads because it was my wife that started it all for me. See, I was the city kid who married the farmer's daughter that grew up hunting deer with her older brother and dad. I didn't grow up with guns and never held a rifle until my then future father-in-law showed me how to shoot his 1917 Eddystone 30-06 back in the summer of 1982. It was the start of a life long passion for hunting and shooting.

I hunted with my wife, her brother and with her dad until he died. I bought the rifle from his estate and I shoot it occasionally in C&R matches although my eyes can't really handle the open sights anymore; that is one LONG rifle.

I still hunt with my wife to this day.
I was truly blessed with in-laws.
 
Oh, what a difficult topic! It directly concerns the question of what modern man has lost due to long residence in a society with a division of labor.
I don't have any close relatives who are hunters. More precisely, my father was engaged in hunting and fishing 90 years ago, but it was part of the lifestyle, as well as picking berries and mushrooms and logging and rafting it on rivers. But during my lifetime, he was indifferent to hunting, although he did not cast a fishing rod. There were no gun lovers in the family either. And yet - I was probably a hunter from birth. My favorite toy at the age of 4 is a mini shooting gallery with a wolf figurine and a spring gun. I dragged my father to the central hunting store, there were bronze figures in the windows - a bear holding a bear cub on its paw, a cop dog with puppies. There was no hunting literature at home, but I studied the pages in the encyclopedia and the "Home Encyclopedia" - then there were articles about hunting, with diagrams of how to aim at a fleeing hare or duck directly over your head. Already at school I got to the library.
The family did not interfere, they gave me an air rifle for 13 years. When it became possible, I joined the society of hunters.
It's innate, I can tell by the dogs. Among the hunting ones, there are individuals without a hunting instinct (they are, by the way, more socialized), and vice versa, decorative dogs that hunt. At hunting festivals, one guy came with kurtzhaar and papillon. This little dog was looking for quails, brought the dead, just like a real spaniel.
Who did I inherit from? It seems that one grandfather of mine was a hunter, judging by the fact that he had several ramrod guns; but he died 20 years before I was born.
There is another guy I know, he has an amazing story in general: he grew up without a father. And he wrote a letter to the main hunting magazine, asking to take him on a real hunt. He was 12 years old. Offers were sent to him - and by the time he received a hunting ticket, he was already an experienced hunter. Now he is an expert on hunting weapons, and he has a hunting company (I don't know how it is now).
 
I have the exact same story only I'm 57, Dad is 83. He was the best man at my wedding and, like I just mentioned, we hunted together this past Friday, Saturday and Monday and about 800 other times. Other than the usual growing up stuff, we've never had a cross word with one another. He's seen every deer I've ever killed. I thank the Lord often for these blessings and selfishly ask for more.
That’s awesome. Almost identical except I’ve shot many, many animals without him with me however. But I’m with him when he shoots his. Some years he decides he doesn’t need any meat but still likes to sit in the box blind with me or go for a cruise in the truck. And I think now he enjoys fishing more than hunting. Fortunately he is still in great health so I’m hoping to have several more years with him outdoors.
 
I have always loved hunting as far back as I can remember. One of my earliest memories was when I was about 3 or 4, my father asked me to shoot a sparrow with his pellet gun. He rested the barrel on the fence and told me to line up the bird and the front bead in the V of the rear sight. I squeezed the trigger and the bird collapsed. I was hooked. Soon after, my hunting aspirations grew even more when I heard my uncle tell of his elephant hunting exploits in Zambia. From then on I was imagining bringing down elephants in the backyard.
 
This is my old essey, alas, badly translated. Sorry, but look at it:


APOLOGY FOR HUNTING

Three categories of people have the right to condemn hunting from a moral point of view:
vegetarians, hypocrites and fools.
Bernard Shaw

If you, the reader, think that it is cruel to kill poor innocent animals (or that hunters exterminate wildlife, etc.), then first think about which of the three categories mentioned in the epigraph you belong to. Bearing in mind that vegetarians are less common than the other two.
In the 70s, it became a good tone, in the course of a table conversation, to be surprised at the cruelty of hunters, sending an appetizing pink slice of ham into his mouth. By the way, if you, the reader, are young and do not remember those times, then believe me: we loved to eat then and had the opportunity. Grumbling, however, at the same time that 'there is nothing in the shops'.
But back to the ham: this pig also wanted to live! And in her moral and intellectual qualities, and sometimes in appearance, she could surpass the one who eats her! Is it fair? Is it moral? Isn't it cruel to kill a cute, good-natured animal just because of a pernicious passion for meat? But if there were no lovers of ham and carbonate, there would be no slaughterhouses. Fools don't think about it, and hypocrites don't talk about it - but that's the way it is!
A ham lover, in response to such an accusation, usually begins to justify himself by saying that he does not kill himself, others do it for him. Aha, so the murder customer is morally superior to the killer; or maybe the judge is less cruel than the executioner? Is that it? What cynicism! What hypocrisy!
Do you think the author decided to justify himself in the old way - accusing opponents of the same sin, they say, you are as vicious as I am? Wrong, not the same. Yes, the hunter is obsessed with the passion to kill. But he is more honest than you hypocritical meat-eaters, at least in that he is aware of his passion, and does not seek pathetic excuses for it.
Yes, this passion does not need them; there are not many passions more noble or more ancient.
By the way, nobility and antiquity are not completely independent concepts. And a commoner has the same number of generations in his family as a noble man, but there were no famous, outstanding people in them. Well, tell me, which of the human passions is nobler than hunting? Cards? Horse racing? Computer games? Indeed, is the card game more ancient than hunting? And is it a coincidence that it is impossible to consider the first nobler than the second? But even a long time ago, at the dawn of mankind, it was precisely passion, and not just the prosaic extraction of daily bread: on the walls of caves, after all, an ancient artist depicted not the gathering of roots, but hunting.
Then maybe you will say that 'ancient' means 'obsolete'? Of course!
'Now, in our enlightened age: the age of steam and weaving machines: or "the age of radio and electricity": or "the age of technotronic civilization": or "the age of post-industrial society:' - how ridiculous and pathetic are these incantations, these appeals to the moment - in the face of eternity, these appeals to the vagaries of fleeting fashion - against millennial wisdom and meaning! "To erase the hunting passion from the psyche of modern youth"! 'Change the imperfect nature of man'! As if a person's soul should change every year, according to the style of the dress and the shape of the hats. Is it possible? Yes, even if you change your soul - won't you make a mistake? After all, the soul is eternal, but are hats eternal? You improve a person so that he fits perfectly to the design of the car - and then the oil run out, and then what? Improve back?
And who is here 'endangered species'? Is it me, a hunter - an 'endangered species'? Yes, and I am not immortal; and I will die with my gun, just like you with your televisions and cell phones; but new generations will not be born with things, but will be born with souls; and for whom the future - we will see.
It is in vain to think that throughout the history of the development of society, man, as a biological being, is continuously developing. On the contrary, society, alas, is constantly degenerating - after all, every human being is protected by this society from the harsh but merciful nature that quickly relieves the inferior from torment.
Primitive man was no more stupid than modern man; on the contrary, he was smarter; he carried the entire culture of that time not on laser discs, but in his own head, and knew much more about the world around him than you and me. Wouldn't he have mastered a cell phone? driving a car? Yes, even a bear can do it. But is it easy for a modern person to make a Neolithic tool? It is only thanks to the division of labor - a property of society, and not of man - that we now use such refined products and amenities. And not because we are smarter or more agile than our distant ancestor!
Ask molecular biologists - we are all descendants of only a few individuals of the human race who lived several tens of thousands of years ago. They were the ideal people, it was then that the peak of biological evolution was reached. We differ from them only in that we have lost something, who is more, who is less. And we did not acquire anything, because there are very few useful mutations, almost none. And we have lost not only the density of hair, immunity to diseases, physical condition or specialized digestive enzymes, but also mental qualities, those that are not needed now either by a worker on the assembly line or by a manager in a stuffy office. That's what 'modern psychology' is! It is just normal, ordinary, human psyhology, only - alas - minus the lost! And has anyone become richer by losing something?
So did the original, ideal men of that time have a hunting passion? I don't expect your answer, only an inveterate debater can answer negatively, to put it mildly. Where did it go now? For many - almost the majority - it has disappeared, for some it has degenerated into something that a new Freud is needed to investigate... is this a reproach to us hunters? It's not missing from us!
This passion has been preserved by the human race in its pure, pristine form!
It's in our chest! We hunters, we feel it in ourselves, sometimes not understanding what it is and where it came from. It scares some, and then they look for sober explanations. But is it necessary to do this? Will we be like those who seek rational excuses even for love and patriotism?
We hunters carry an ancient fire within us. We are the guarantee of the fullness of the human race; when the time comes to sum up, it will be incomplete without us.
The current civilization will disappear, the civilization of fuel oil and rust, strontium and freon, plastic bags and broken bottles will disappear, noisy highways will crack and grow grass; probably, our reliable comrades - Wins and Merkels - will not be; but the sacred flame will not go out; the hunter, my distant descendant, with a net, a slingshot or a bow, with a cheerful and faithful shaggy friend, will go for a walk in the fields again.
 
I'd say my Dad was my first inspiration. I've only hunted Pennsylvania's birds and whitetails though. My influence for my interest in Safari hunting in Africa stems from watchin the movie Ghost and the Darkness and subsequently reading Patterson's journal. Then I started reading Capstick...
The Ghost and The Darkness certainly got my interest.
I've also read The Man-eaters of Tsavo book.

I watch the movie every couple of years. I just like it. I would like to visit Tsavo, that's covered in another thread.
 
This is my old essey, alas, badly translated. Sorry, but look at it:


APOLOGY FOR HUNTING

Three categories of people have the right to condemn hunting from a moral point of view:
vegetarians, hypocrites and fools.
Bernard Shaw

If you, the reader, think that it is cruel to kill poor innocent animals (or that hunters exterminate wildlife, etc.), then first think about which of the three categories mentioned in the epigraph you belong to. Bearing in mind that vegetarians are less common than the other two.
In the 70s, it became a good tone, in the course of a table conversation, to be surprised at the cruelty of hunters, sending an appetizing pink slice of ham into his mouth. By the way, if you, the reader, are young and do not remember those times, then believe me: we loved to eat then and had the opportunity. Grumbling, however, at the same time that 'there is nothing in the shops'.
But back to the ham: this pig also wanted to live! And in her moral and intellectual qualities, and sometimes in appearance, she could surpass the one who eats her! Is it fair? Is it moral? Isn't it cruel to kill a cute, good-natured animal just because of a pernicious passion for meat? But if there were no lovers of ham and carbonate, there would be no slaughterhouses. Fools don't think about it, and hypocrites don't talk about it - but that's the way it is!
A ham lover, in response to such an accusation, usually begins to justify himself by saying that he does not kill himself, others do it for him. Aha, so the murder customer is morally superior to the killer; or maybe the judge is less cruel than the executioner? Is that it? What cynicism! What hypocrisy!
Do you think the author decided to justify himself in the old way - accusing opponents of the same sin, they say, you are as vicious as I am? Wrong, not the same. Yes, the hunter is obsessed with the passion to kill. But he is more honest than you hypocritical meat-eaters, at least in that he is aware of his passion, and does not seek pathetic excuses for it.
Yes, this passion does not need them; there are not many passions more noble or more ancient.
By the way, nobility and antiquity are not completely independent concepts. And a commoner has the same number of generations in his family as a noble man, but there were no famous, outstanding people in them. Well, tell me, which of the human passions is nobler than hunting? Cards? Horse racing? Computer games? Indeed, is the card game more ancient than hunting? And is it a coincidence that it is impossible to consider the first nobler than the second? But even a long time ago, at the dawn of mankind, it was precisely passion, and not just the prosaic extraction of daily bread: on the walls of caves, after all, an ancient artist depicted not the gathering of roots, but hunting.
Then maybe you will say that 'ancient' means 'obsolete'? Of course!
'Now, in our enlightened age: the age of steam and weaving machines: or "the age of radio and electricity": or "the age of technotronic civilization": or "the age of post-industrial society:' - how ridiculous and pathetic are these incantations, these appeals to the moment - in the face of eternity, these appeals to the vagaries of fleeting fashion - against millennial wisdom and meaning! "To erase the hunting passion from the psyche of modern youth"! 'Change the imperfect nature of man'! As if a person's soul should change every year, according to the style of the dress and the shape of the hats. Is it possible? Yes, even if you change your soul - won't you make a mistake? After all, the soul is eternal, but are hats eternal? You improve a person so that he fits perfectly to the design of the car - and then the oil run out, and then what? Improve back?
And who is here 'endangered species'? Is it me, a hunter - an 'endangered species'? Yes, and I am not immortal; and I will die with my gun, just like you with your televisions and cell phones; but new generations will not be born with things, but will be born with souls; and for whom the future - we will see.
It is in vain to think that throughout the history of the development of society, man, as a biological being, is continuously developing. On the contrary, society, alas, is constantly degenerating - after all, every human being is protected by this society from the harsh but merciful nature that quickly relieves the inferior from torment.
Primitive man was no more stupid than modern man; on the contrary, he was smarter; he carried the entire culture of that time not on laser discs, but in his own head, and knew much more about the world around him than you and me. Wouldn't he have mastered a cell phone? driving a car? Yes, even a bear can do it. But is it easy for a modern person to make a Neolithic tool? It is only thanks to the division of labor - a property of society, and not of man - that we now use such refined products and amenities. And not because we are smarter or more agile than our distant ancestor!
Ask molecular biologists - we are all descendants of only a few individuals of the human race who lived several tens of thousands of years ago. They were the ideal people, it was then that the peak of biological evolution was reached. We differ from them only in that we have lost something, who is more, who is less. And we did not acquire anything, because there are very few useful mutations, almost none. And we have lost not only the density of hair, immunity to diseases, physical condition or specialized digestive enzymes, but also mental qualities, those that are not needed now either by a worker on the assembly line or by a manager in a stuffy office. That's what 'modern psychology' is! It is just normal, ordinary, human psyhology, only - alas - minus the lost! And has anyone become richer by losing something?
So did the original, ideal men of that time have a hunting passion? I don't expect your answer, only an inveterate debater can answer negatively, to put it mildly. Where did it go now? For many - almost the majority - it has disappeared, for some it has degenerated into something that a new Freud is needed to investigate... is this a reproach to us hunters? It's not missing from us!
This passion has been preserved by the human race in its pure, pristine form!
It's in our chest! We hunters, we feel it in ourselves, sometimes not understanding what it is and where it came from. It scares some, and then they look for sober explanations. But is it necessary to do this? Will we be like those who seek rational excuses even for love and patriotism?
We hunters carry an ancient fire within us. We are the guarantee of the fullness of the human race; when the time comes to sum up, it will be incomplete without us.
The current civilization will disappear, the civilization of fuel oil and rust, strontium and freon, plastic bags and broken bottles will disappear, noisy highways will crack and grow grass; probably, our reliable comrades - Wins and Merkels - will not be; but the sacred flame will not go out; the hunter, my distant descendant, with a net, a slingshot or a bow, with a cheerful and faithful shaggy friend, will go for a walk in the fields again.
So very well said. Thank you for sharing this.
 
My Father and Uncle got me started bow hunting with recurves and longbows, I think I always had the desire to hunt, watching Howard Hill and Fred Bear videos, reading about African Safaris, used to read Outdoor Life and Field and Stream when they were good, My Uncle got me started Rifle Hunting, My Dad never Hunted with a firearm after WWII, but he taught me to shoot with a .22 when I was 6 or 7, I miss our old deer camps I remember at days end being privileged to spend time with the older hunters and being given a small glass of Blackberry Brandy (a tradition that I still partake of)
 
I'd say my Dad was my first inspiration. I've only hunted Pennsylvania's birds and whitetails though. My influence for my interest in Safari hunting in Africa stems from watchin the movie Ghost and the Darkness and subsequently reading Patterson's journal. Then I started reading Capstick...
You are doomed !
 
Dad was my main influence. Practical deer hunting.


Although he never took me with him, my maternal grandfather hunted gamebirds, trained bird dogs, and was partial to nice shotguns.
 
Who inspired your interest in hunting?

I come from a non-hunting family, so in no particular order, J. O. Curwood, J. London, E. Hemingway, J. Burger et al. To name but a few.

It was literature, the adventures.

It actually started from the curiosity of the wild. The polar explorations, the experiences of Shackleton, Nansen and Amundsen. Perhaps it wasn’t so much hunting as it was the wilderness experience, of which hunting was but a part. But it was the beautifully described experiences of the savage, rugged reality of the far north that drew me towards the wild and hunting. However, where I grew up, you couldn’t easily travel abroad. We needed visas just about everywhere. But that wasn’t the hard part. First, a passport was needed. And you couldn’t get a passport without a “genuine reason; international travel was severely restricted. The People’s Republic was keen to keep people in, but I digress.

As a child, I wasn’t even allowed a toy gun (my mother’s idea), yet I made my own toy guns based on drawings I found in the books and the soviet arms I saw on the streets carried by the communist police and army personnel. By the time I got kicked out of my first primary school, in year two, I was already developing a strong interest in rapidly burning powders. By the time I got kicked out of my second primary school, in year six (primary school used to be eight years), I had a fairly firm grasp of the redox reaction. Back then, I used to make this magic boom boom powder that I now know is known by its proper name - black powder. I was a local hero, we used to rate the “quality” of the explosion by how long out ears would ring afterwards. Needless to say, I see things differently now.

I guess it was just a matter of time. I moved to the sunny wilderness called Australia, trekked through the bush every chance I got, graduated university, received a permanent resident visa, got a firearms licence and started hunting. I will never forget the trembling of terror and excitement I felt standing above a dead deer in the middle of nowhere about to start butchering for the first time based on “knowledge” acquired from youtube a week or so earlier.
 
Started following my dad around in the deer woods before I was old enuf to hunt myself. Got into the Hunter Safety program in Seattle in the mid 60's, passed the test and got to carry a rifle myself and we hunted together for many years, rarely did any good but always had a good time in the woods, camping etc.
Dad passed away about 10 years ago now and I havent been hunting stateside in even longer than that, since my pronghorn hunting buddy died.
Africa is my only hunting outlet now and unless and until things lighten up a bit I wont be doing that either.
 
I think I'm fairly typical of our age group with parents of the Depression through WW2 era. What hunting they did was not similar to our definitions of hunting now. I think my mom's side parents and grandparents hunted some for meat around lumber camps but that's about it. On my dad's side my grandfather was a dedicated fly fisherman but not much of a hunter. He passed that passion for fly fishing along to my dad who in turn passed it on to me. My dad in his younger years hunted a little on ranches where he worked but again, mostly for meat and at a time and area of the western US that didn't have a large population of deer. He mentioned to me a few times that in the pre-WW2 era (1930s) there just weren't many deer or antelope and no elk where he was. Those populations wouldn't begin increasing significantly until some 20-30 years later. After WW2 he and some friends went on annual deer hunts. They'd set up a couple of canvas wall tents then hunt either on foot or with a couple of horses one the hunters would take. I remember, beginning by about age 3 or 4, really wanting to go along with the guys on those deer hunts! I was so excited and anxious to see if a deer was under the tarp in the back of our PU when dad returned. And when he was successful, I wanted to help so bad... from the unloading, hanging, skinning and processing. Looking back on it, my excitement for the one or two deer he brought back during those few years when I was too young to go, was probably the spark for my big game hunting passion.

Because of where I grew up, I was able to bird hunt with a shotgun and plink about with a 22 rf out my back door. Beginning about age 9 through age 12, my dad had me tag along on a couple of his deer hunts. He carried his rifle, a Winchester M54 30-06 and I carried my single shot shotgun... in case we saw some turkeys. At age 11 or 12, I remember being with him when he got his last deer. I helped him drag and carry it out. My parents gave me my first deer rifle when I was 13, a brand new pre-64 M94 30-30 Winchester- a rifle I still have. I worked very hard at deer hunting each year after my first deer hunt at age 13 until finally being successful at age 17. My dad passed shortly after that but he was along on that trip. Those tough years of unsuccessful deer hunting, I believe, taught me much about appreciating both the game and the hunt.
 
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My Dad and uncles. As soon as I was old enough to know what was going on whenever one would bring in a game animal, I was right there trying to help. Probably underfoot was more like it but I absorbed every nuance like a sponge. It kindled a desire tp participate and as soon as I was old enough to start shooting (at around 7) Dad would let me go along. He wouldn't let me carry a gun yet but he taught me about tracking, reading sign, distinguishing different animals by their tracks and all the other stuff that makes up hunting.
 
My Grandfather was the one who lead me down the hunting path of small and eventually Whitetail sized game. Then it was reading all of his American Rifleman magazines with the latest and greatest rifles, gear and stories.

Certainly have to agree with @WAB on the Mutual of Omaha Wild Kingdom pushing me toward Africa. Writings of Ruark, Aagaard, Taylor, Capstick and yes even Boddington (as some people groan) set the hook for me.

To this day, I still have mentors and peers that I continue to learn from. In my short time here on AH I have found several members who I have questioned for their advice on many different topics. Joining this site is another inspiration to get out and hunt. Hunt anything and anywhere...from Dove to Elephant you can find it here. And for that, I thank you.
 
So far grandfathers (great generation) as it seams were most influential persons to youngsters, while fathers (baby boomers) less so. Based on previous posts.
 
Initially my Grandfather. Gave me a Diana pellet gun to keep me occupied on the farm/ranch. But then my Uncle. One day on the farm/ranch while we where out checking the waters , out comes the 270 Winchester and was told :"We need meat, you get it for us".
I was about 8 or 9 years old. Still remember that day like it was yesterday
 

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