I love my dad day 2

I am so blessed to have a dad who taught me to love nature, outside, getting dirty, hunting, fishing ?? (would have liked it more if we ever caught anything :), really just being outside. Growing up on a farm meant spending lots of time outside weather working, playing, or just relaxing. We fed the animals, and hauled the hay okay, so I mostly climed the stack as the men hauled, or drove the truck once I was old enough to see over the steering wheel.

We went camping a lot. My dad loves to hunt so whether it was hunting season or not we were watching for animals of all sorts and their tracks. We shot guns and bows at targets mostly, but as soon as we were old enough we took hunters safety and got hunting licenses. The first thing I remember shooting is a pheasant... We were up at my uncle John Esplin's cabin hunting and visiting. My dad and I ventured out and came upon a pheasant, I don't remeber how far away it was or if there were more than one but I shot one. I pretty much took its head off. The thing I remember most about that is how proud of me my dad was. We headed back to the cabin and he told everyone what a great shot I was. The other adventure that sicks out is my Elk hunt.

disclaimer: this story is long and more for my journaling purposes than anyting else. Feel free to skip reading it. In short I shot an elk, a big one!!

This one is more recent Sept. 2005 I drew a Ponsagont Elk tag I think my dad was more excited than I was. I had the 4 boys at the time. Ron stayed home with the older 3 and I took Logan with me. Our neighbor Bob, Logan (who was one and a half) ventured south. There was no cabin then so we went to the trailor on my dad's property. My dad had been up there scouting and found that the elk were no where to be found. It was late by the time we got there so we just settled in to bed for the night. Dark and early the next morning we set off to see what we could see. We were headed northeast from the trailor looking and listening when we heard bugling (such an amazing sound!!) from the south west. We locked Logan in the truck, which I know probably would be reason for DCFS to investigate but... My dad took off on a dead run over and throught the woods while I tried to keep up. We followed the sound and ended up right back by the trailor when we saw them. 6 or 8 cows (female elk) headed up the ravine. We stopped to watch after a few minutes we heard a cracking noise to the right and turned to find a HUGE bull (male elk) standing off about 30 yards. I remember pulling up the gun and getting him in the sights and pausing to take a breath as my dad is hissing through his teeth SHOOT HIM, SHOOT HIM!! I pulled the trigger and we watched as he stumbled a few feet and fell. Anyone who hunts elk might know that this is not the norm, any of it. You usually spent days or weeks trying to find the elk then if you get close enough to shoot and do the animal takes off running and if you were a good shot you fing a blood trail and spend hours or days following the trail in hopes the you will find the animal. So my dream hunt (more like my dads dream) had just come true. My dad waited with me till he was almost sure that the elk was not going to get up. Then left me there with his 270 (my weapon of choice) and said shoot him again if he gets up, while he headed back to rescue Logan from the truck. A few minutes later Bob came following the sound of the shot. We were all a bit in shock I suppose for a bit. After we had checked out the amazing 6-7 elk we walked the 30 yards back to the trailer where we had breakfast and my dad called his brother Marvin to come up to help load the elk. After breakfast my dad and Bob "cleaned the elk" when Marvin came they were able to pull the truck down hill and using a couple of scaffolding planks and alot of muscle they drug the elk in the bed of my dad's truck. Just to give an idea of how big he was... They had to push and squeeze and finalge to get all of him into the truck. What an experience!! I'll never forget it. I think my dad still has copies of the pictures in his truck to show off.

Thanks dad for teaching me to love, respect and apprciate being outside no matter where I am! But especially at the farm and the cabin :)