Best hunting ground in high school was the Hang Out then later on, The Flora Bama.

I’ve heard more bird hunt stories than I can shake a stick at. Love em

I was ate up with the hunting bug from the get go. Dad didn't hunt but he and his brothers ran a deer cooler through the 80's. They paid me $5hr to feed the meat grinder. I'da done it for free just to see the deer come in and hear the stories. Killed my first deer running dogs with my uncle on hatchet creek hc at 10 yo with a single shot 20. Worked all summer of my 7th grade year to buy my first deer rifle.
My childhood pastor and his son hauled me around to different wma's . My dad started organizing hunts with the other men and boys from church. We mostly went to barbour wma . Dad would dump me off and tell me "go watch that holler I'll be back in a few hours" ... It was tough hunting but I loved it.

I grew up in Greenbriar Cove. Didn't have anything to do except hunt or fish. Never had neighbors within a mile. Had permission to hunt and fish on over 4,000 acres. Killed tons of ducks, geese, deer,turkeys, beavers, muskrat, you name it. Came home with stringers full of bream and bass regular. Got older and started rabbit hunting with beagles. Now I'd rather track wounded deer more than hunt for myself. My daughter fills the freezer up now so I just get to watch and clean em. I enjoy it more that way anyway

Started going with my dad at probably 5yo. Would climb up in a tree and sit on a milk crate on a wooden platform, sometimes just a pallet up in a tree with a cable looped underneath it. He taught me to hunt everything except turkeys. He didnt turkey hunt. I didnt start turkey hunting until I was 30 and now 20 years later, it might be my favorite thing to do. Well, a good dove hunt is really hard to beat.

I would get checked out of school on Fridays around lunch to head to whoever had a Management Area hunt that weekend. This was the early to mid 80’s. Had to stand in long lines if it was a draw hunt, hoping to get a pink tennis ball for a either sex permit. Had a 30 carbine with irons that I hunted with. Dad would set me down beside a tree and walk around the ridge and take his sleeping bag while I froze my butt off. Lol. I didn’t see many deer but it sure was fun going on all those trips. I joined a hunting club my first year out of high school with my uncle after that. We would run dogs in the mornings on weekends and holidays and you could still hunt in the afternoons. Fun times! I killed 6 racked bucks and a doe that year and they kicked me out of the club. This was 1996. That’s when there was no limit and I really learned how to hunt being on my own.

I come by it honest..multigenerational..as far back as any living member of my family can recall.

My grandparents guided since the 30s. They referred to my grandfather as "the indian" because he hunted barefoot when the woods were dry. I dont remember him but my grandma and dad did a pretty good job offering me every hunting and fishing lesson a boy could have wanted. Having 4 uncles also helped.

Hunting bug didn't really hit me til I was about 14. Waking up at 4 AM just didn't appeal to me. 🤪 so dad would take my older brother to hunting club on weekends and I stayed home. Killed my first deer at 15, a massive 100 lb, 3" spike, and I was hooked.

I was my Dad’s occasional squirrel retriever as a little 3-4-5 year old until we moved from the farm in TN. I remember stomping around the woods and enjoying it. Took a several-year break and spent my adolescence and teen years obsessed with fishing. Just never really got the hunting itch. At about 18-19 years old, it just clicked and I’ve been just as obsessed with deer and deer hunting ever since (I’m 34 now) as I ever was about fishing. I take my oldest boy turkey hunting in the spring but only bc enjoys it. I don’t get tore up about birds like I do deer.

Lots of lucky guys in here. I didnt start until I was 35. We bought our current house from an older guy next door who no longer hunted. He asked if I hunted and I told him, "No". He said if I decided to, he had 200 acres on the other side of the road that I could hunt like it was mine. I gave it about 5 years before I took him up on it. I bought a Savage .270 from my Pastor and headed over to the 200 acres in a brown leather jacket and some jeans.

He had a couple of nice tripods that I hunted from and several old, wooden platforms in trees. I made every mistake I could make that first year. My very first shot I took was at a doe coming down to the pond for a drink. I didn't know what eye relief was and I found out real quick. My right eyebrow still bears the scar. Lucky for the doe.

I sat over that pond in a tree that Winter and saw some beautiful sights. Deer swimming across the pond. Wood ducks flying in and out. Otters scurrying across a frozen pond in January. Turkeys taking flight. Bobcats stalking ducks from the bank. I took my first racked buck from that tree at 75 yards..a basket rack 6 pt.

I hunted the property for 3 years and the old guy sold it off and I'll never be able to set foot on it again.

It’s so sad that these kids nowadays will never get to experience the hunting we had in the 90s and early 2000s. Seeing an average of 20 to 50 deer a day. Bucks everywhere during the rut. I miss those years, but know it’ll never be like that again. We had fun back then, because the hunting was good which made the weekends worth spending in the woods.

Not many kids have land that still has that opportunity. I couldn’t in good faith even get a kid introduced to hunting. Between the hassle of finding land to hunt and the lack of deer, they’re better off learning golf or baseball.

I can count on one hand how many times I've seen 15 deer in a day....my passion for it is as strong now as its ever been...I reckon its what u were used to when growing up

Grew up with a Pheasant release site literally in my backyard. Starting at about 4yrs old it was my job to go with the warden and watch where the birds went. They had 3 options, corn, apple or pear orchard. Dad and his buddies would come home from work and I would direct them to where the majority went. At about 7 yrs old I started to lying to them so I could go the next day with a JC Higgins 20 gauge and get them myself. That didn’t go over well.

Deer hunting with dad and his buddies was a week long event at camp every year. Bucks antler size didn’t matter. The first one to kill a buck was the big dog in camp for that week. It was all track and stalk hunting with a little sitting on your butt when you were defeated because you couldn’t locate one.

The earliest memory I have is seeing a fox while hunting with my Dad in Nebraska when I was 3 years old. He always took me except when he went moose or bear hunting in Newfoundland.

Im glad it's not like that anymore. I've shot deer on fields and the other deer scatter into the woods at the shot. Go to drag the deer and the others come back and watch you drag from 50 yards away.

Food was so scarce in endless pine plantation and fields eaten down to the dirt. Like shooting fish in a barrel.

I started hunting at Big Papaul’s camp (my grandfather) with a bbgun since I was 4yrs old. Dad who was a bird hunter would take me deer hunting even though he never cared much for it. When my grandfather got sick, my mom’s boss at the time, Mr. Tom took me deer hunting from middle school till even now 20 years later we still hunt together whenever i can go with him. He has grown into my grandfather to me as well, so I have been blessed with two grandfathers and a father who have made it possible for me to find my passion in the Alabama hardwoods and pine thickets! I taught myself how to turkey hunt in the same south Bama swamps of the Tombigbee with my dad who drove me down to hunt on spring breaks. My dream when I finish residency is to buy a bunch of land with my brother in order to host youth deer hunts with a focus on leading kids to our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.

As far back as I can remember hunting is the only thing I have ever truly loved. It's actually to a fault. One of the fleshly desires I have to fight CONSTANTLY is my tendency to put my love of the outdoors in front of my pursuit of a life under the authority of Christ. It is a slippery slope. You start saying to yourself "well I'll play hooky from church just this ONCE to go hunting and it will be okay" Next thing you know, there you are hunting every Sunday morning and missing out of being spiritually fed.

What we love, we find time for because we deem it of value to us. One of the things I am constantly being sanctified on is not putting my love of the outdoors in front of my role as the spiritual leader of my home.

I was blessed to be mentored by two fantastic gentlemen on hunting and fishing. My dad took my fishing and dove, crow and duck hunting. My uncle took me fishing for bass, dove, deer (dog hunting, you had your shirt tail cut if you missed, we didn't have a lot of money, so the embarrassment was with fellow hunters and at school), squirrel, coon, possum, and turkey hunting. I have pictures back to 4 years old going with them on outings, my Stanley Thermos is stamped 1070 - Nashville, TN - Christmas present at 5 years old for hot chocolate. I was upset the year before when a class thermos fell and broke. I didn't have any hot chocolate that day in the duck blind. I didn't kill my first deer with a rifle until I was in my twenties and fell in love with bean field shooting. It has been a 52 year love affair.

I’ve only ever seen 20 deer in a day twice in my life. I’ve never seen bucks running everywhere in the rut and neither has my son but he is in to hunting more every year.