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D.C.'s spot
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<blockquote data-quote="David P. Herne" data-source="post: 3219" data-attributes="member: 29"><p><strong>Re: D.C.\'s spot</strong></p><p></p><p>Gentlemen,</p><p>I use that salutation (gentlemen) when addressing all of you in its strictest sense. You are all so gracious and I am honored that any of you would even acknowledge my questions and comments here!</p><p></p><p>Quiet Hunter,</p><p>I was especially thrilled to read your most recent contribution here as my own personal philosophy on hunting and the natural world is exemplary of your suggestions and admonitions regarding the same.</p><p></p><p>At 33 years, I have not been on more than a half-dozen serious hunts in my life, and these were only for Texas whitetail and/or exotics. Still, I have been facsinated with such big game hunting since early childhood when my parents moved from Chicago, Illinois to Glendive, Montana. While there, Dad hunted elk every year near Livingston and mule deer within a 100 mile radius of town. He still remarks how I would get more excited than on Christmas morning when he pulled up to the house with the head, cape, and quarters of a bull elk or a field dressed mulie from right outside town, with my brother, 4 sisters, and mother shuddering in horror in the background. And how I was the only one in the family other than himself who would eat the meat of either species. Unfortunately, Dad's company transferred us all to Texas before I was old enough to accompany him hunting, and once here, his busy career prevented him from hunting altogether. Nonetheless, I started shooting by my mid-teens for the sole purpose of preparing for the day when Dad would hunt again or at least when I would be able to hunt with my own friends. In a way, I'm still actually waiting . . . . . and preparing . . . . . and anticipating. Meanwhile, I have watched and listened to many other more privileged young men go on expensive hunts both here at home and in the Rocky Mountain states. And with each passing year I not only grow hungrier, but also increasingly disgusted with so much of what I have seen these others do in the field. To make a long story short, I have come to the point where what I dream of when I dream of elk hunting in the Rockies (and I do this frequently) is running (not riding in a 4x4 pickup or on an ATV or even on the back of a horse) into the mountains near Buena Vista (where most of Colorado's 28 fourteeners are located) with a pack on back and my rifle in my hands and finding that one great monarch of the mountains up there . . . . . IN HIS HOUSE AND ON HIS TERMS. And if his head comes back to Texas with me, it will have been meant to be! That's just the way things are with me and it can't be any other way for it to be worth it.</p><p></p><p>Peers of mine have taken B&C whitetails only because they hunted out of a 4x4 jeep or pickup or astride an ATV or even at 2 AM on moonless nights with the aid of spotlights or nightvision scopes. Personally, I wouldn't have the heads of these animals on my wall or show the photos thereof to others! In my opinion, it was about nothing more than killing for those pathetic souls. Hunting for me, however, is about capturing something that a man could never really have by any other means than by taking its life with a portable projectile weapon. As my signature states, it is indeed about 'stealing beauty'. But not, mind you, about stealing it from one another. Rather we steal it from itself as it has its own identity and its own sense of self-determination! </p><p></p><p>Regards,</p><p>Dave</p><p></p><p>[ 12-03-2002: Message edited by: Houston Boy ]</p><p></p><p>[ 12-03-2002: Message edited by: Houston Boy ]</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="David P. Herne, post: 3219, member: 29"] [b]Re: D.C.\'s spot[/b] Gentlemen, I use that salutation (gentlemen) when addressing all of you in its strictest sense. You are all so gracious and I am honored that any of you would even acknowledge my questions and comments here! Quiet Hunter, I was especially thrilled to read your most recent contribution here as my own personal philosophy on hunting and the natural world is exemplary of your suggestions and admonitions regarding the same. At 33 years, I have not been on more than a half-dozen serious hunts in my life, and these were only for Texas whitetail and/or exotics. Still, I have been facsinated with such big game hunting since early childhood when my parents moved from Chicago, Illinois to Glendive, Montana. While there, Dad hunted elk every year near Livingston and mule deer within a 100 mile radius of town. He still remarks how I would get more excited than on Christmas morning when he pulled up to the house with the head, cape, and quarters of a bull elk or a field dressed mulie from right outside town, with my brother, 4 sisters, and mother shuddering in horror in the background. And how I was the only one in the family other than himself who would eat the meat of either species. Unfortunately, Dad's company transferred us all to Texas before I was old enough to accompany him hunting, and once here, his busy career prevented him from hunting altogether. Nonetheless, I started shooting by my mid-teens for the sole purpose of preparing for the day when Dad would hunt again or at least when I would be able to hunt with my own friends. In a way, I'm still actually waiting . . . . . and preparing . . . . . and anticipating. Meanwhile, I have watched and listened to many other more privileged young men go on expensive hunts both here at home and in the Rocky Mountain states. And with each passing year I not only grow hungrier, but also increasingly disgusted with so much of what I have seen these others do in the field. To make a long story short, I have come to the point where what I dream of when I dream of elk hunting in the Rockies (and I do this frequently) is running (not riding in a 4x4 pickup or on an ATV or even on the back of a horse) into the mountains near Buena Vista (where most of Colorado's 28 fourteeners are located) with a pack on back and my rifle in my hands and finding that one great monarch of the mountains up there . . . . . IN HIS HOUSE AND ON HIS TERMS. And if his head comes back to Texas with me, it will have been meant to be! That's just the way things are with me and it can't be any other way for it to be worth it. Peers of mine have taken B&C whitetails only because they hunted out of a 4x4 jeep or pickup or astride an ATV or even at 2 AM on moonless nights with the aid of spotlights or nightvision scopes. Personally, I wouldn't have the heads of these animals on my wall or show the photos thereof to others! In my opinion, it was about nothing more than killing for those pathetic souls. Hunting for me, however, is about capturing something that a man could never really have by any other means than by taking its life with a portable projectile weapon. As my signature states, it is indeed about 'stealing beauty'. But not, mind you, about stealing it from one another. Rather we steal it from itself as it has its own identity and its own sense of self-determination! Regards, Dave [ 12-03-2002: Message edited by: Houston Boy ] [ 12-03-2002: Message edited by: Houston Boy ] [/QUOTE]
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