Chuck Martin
Senior Member
I hunt because the man that raised me, Granddaddy, hunted and he took me with him, so we built a bond that I still cherish. And because his father hunted and his fathers before him and all of the fathers in my line and yours hunted as far back as those fathers that invented spears and axes and recorded their adventures with pictures on the walls of caves.
I hunt because I'm convienced as many anthropologists argue that prehistoric man was a hunter long before a farmer and because the genetic drive remains too powerful for me to resist. I do not need to hunt to eat, but I must hunt to be fully who I am.
I hunt because it takes me back to the boy I used to be and the man my Granddaddy was then. I hunt because the ghosts of Brownie, Bell, Blue, Sadie and Turk, all of my beloved hunting dogs are still running through the woods wagging their tails, sniffing and searching out game. Because hunting dogs make the wisest of friends, they are keener and smarter in many ways than I am and they taught me things that I wouldn't have otherwise learned or understand.
I hunt because the pine boughs and logging roads glisten when the early morning November sun melts the frost from the hills and hollows and because the next rustle of leaves may be that buck that slipped by you the last time you were here. I hunt to see the sunrise over the catus flats and hear the mournful call of the morning dove as I search the oak motts with my binos looking for Muy Grande in the Texas Hill country.
I hunt because I would have seen fewer turkeys, foxes, hawks and coyotes and not shared the beauty of Creation without them. I hunt because I love to enter their world and catch a glimps of them and for a brief moment share their life. I hunt to feel the icy wind in my face at sunset as I stand on a snowy hill side trying to catch a glimps of white tipped antlers.
I hunt for the whistle of wood ducks and the sudden explosion of a covey of quail.........for the subtle tinkeling of a dogs collar and the excited bawl of a beagle hot on a cottontails heels.
I hunt because it's never boaring or dissapointing to be out of doors with a purpose, even when I come home with an empty game bag. I hunt for the satisfying exhaustion after a long day in the woods, for the new stories that every day of hunting gives me, for the fellowship of sharing those stories with some of the finest friends and people I've ever known and for the soft snoring and dreamwhimpering and twitching of a sleeping hunting dog in front of the fire after a long day in the field.
I hunt because of the trembling smile of a youngester after they've bagged their first deer is a vision and menory that I'll cherish long after my body has played out and I can no longer slip through the woods myself. I hunt for the satisifaction I get when I've passed along to my sons all of these heart stopping emotions that I feel in the woods. I hunt to stay in practice for the season when I get to share in the training of my grandchildren and watch my sons pass the heritage down to another set of sons.
I hunt because it keeps my passion alive and my memories fresh and my senses aleart even as my hair grows grey and because I am afraid that if I stopped hunting that I would instaintly become an old man..........and because I believe that as long as I hunt, I will remain young.......and live forever.
I hunt because I'm convienced as many anthropologists argue that prehistoric man was a hunter long before a farmer and because the genetic drive remains too powerful for me to resist. I do not need to hunt to eat, but I must hunt to be fully who I am.
I hunt because it takes me back to the boy I used to be and the man my Granddaddy was then. I hunt because the ghosts of Brownie, Bell, Blue, Sadie and Turk, all of my beloved hunting dogs are still running through the woods wagging their tails, sniffing and searching out game. Because hunting dogs make the wisest of friends, they are keener and smarter in many ways than I am and they taught me things that I wouldn't have otherwise learned or understand.
I hunt because the pine boughs and logging roads glisten when the early morning November sun melts the frost from the hills and hollows and because the next rustle of leaves may be that buck that slipped by you the last time you were here. I hunt to see the sunrise over the catus flats and hear the mournful call of the morning dove as I search the oak motts with my binos looking for Muy Grande in the Texas Hill country.
I hunt because I would have seen fewer turkeys, foxes, hawks and coyotes and not shared the beauty of Creation without them. I hunt because I love to enter their world and catch a glimps of them and for a brief moment share their life. I hunt to feel the icy wind in my face at sunset as I stand on a snowy hill side trying to catch a glimps of white tipped antlers.
I hunt for the whistle of wood ducks and the sudden explosion of a covey of quail.........for the subtle tinkeling of a dogs collar and the excited bawl of a beagle hot on a cottontails heels.
I hunt because it's never boaring or dissapointing to be out of doors with a purpose, even when I come home with an empty game bag. I hunt for the satisfying exhaustion after a long day in the woods, for the new stories that every day of hunting gives me, for the fellowship of sharing those stories with some of the finest friends and people I've ever known and for the soft snoring and dreamwhimpering and twitching of a sleeping hunting dog in front of the fire after a long day in the field.
I hunt because of the trembling smile of a youngester after they've bagged their first deer is a vision and menory that I'll cherish long after my body has played out and I can no longer slip through the woods myself. I hunt for the satisifaction I get when I've passed along to my sons all of these heart stopping emotions that I feel in the woods. I hunt to stay in practice for the season when I get to share in the training of my grandchildren and watch my sons pass the heritage down to another set of sons.
I hunt because it keeps my passion alive and my memories fresh and my senses aleart even as my hair grows grey and because I am afraid that if I stopped hunting that I would instaintly become an old man..........and because I believe that as long as I hunt, I will remain young.......and live forever.
