re: Best outdoor memory with dad or grandfathers

Good god the knee boots and hip boots my poor maw maw had to dry out

You've got me laughing just thinking about it.

My paw paw had one speed, full speed.

1977 - my 12th birthday. I had shot at several deer and never killed. Didn’t even want to go, but went because my Grandaddy was going with us. I only took 3 shells for my H&R single 12 and two spikes showed up. I shot at one and my gdaddy showed up to help me look for it. He jumped it up so he stayed close.

Just a few minutes later the other one walked up and took a load of buckshot. I shot him again (with my third shell) while he was flopping and then started yelling that I had a deer down and no more shells. I was lucky to kill my first deer with both my Dad and Grandaddy there. Never found the other one, but I’ll never forget that day. Grandaddy is gone and my Dad is old now, but we (luckily) still enjoy time hunting together.

Man I could think of a lot of good memories with my dad, but here are a couple I remember. He took me on my first real duck hunt back in the 80's at the madisonville rice fields when I was around 9. It was so cold that we had to shoot through the ice just to push the pirogue along. Anyway he had hip boots and I just had small hunting boots that weren't fit for duck hunting especially in those temps. Well I had hypothermia in my feet and was crying and he basically told me to suck it up. We shot some nice birds. I would give anything to experience that again. Another trip was in 1989 I think. My dad had a 21 foot center console and was getting into the offshore game with a single engine 150 yamaha. This was out of venice before you started seeing big boats with twins, etc. Anyway we are trolling two rods with plugs at Lena when both rods go off. My dad initially thought we snagged the standby buoy, but it actually was two yellowfin. We had never caught a tuna before. We finally land both after a little over an hour and one was 93lbs and the other 123lbs. My dad recorded it on vhs and was so excited and happy we caught those fish. We cut up all the tuna and gave the whole neighborhood meat. To me my dad was the man. I'd give anything to still have him around. He passed away when I was 18. Love you dad

My dad worked offshore from the end of WWII until he got hurt about 1960. When he was home he would take us fishing on the bayou by the house. We lived in the Dora area between Cottonport and Evergreen in Avoyelles Parish.
In the spring we would go crawfishing by Lake Pearl. Fond memories of me and my brother spending the day with dad catching crawfish back there.
Dad was disabled after the offshore accident and couldn’t do any physical labor so we moved to NOLa to go into the grocery business. That pretty much ended any free time with dad.
My favorite memory was of dad closing the store for a day to go with me and a friend to Elmers Island about ‘72. My friend was going to take us in his boat out around Lake Borge but a front was moving in. He had heard the trout were off the beach at ELMER’s so we loaded up dads bed camper with a mattress and gear and took off.
Parked on the beach about 5 pm and caught a few trout. That night we sat around a driftwood Fire we cooked steaks on and drank beer. Dad and my friend slept in the camper and I slept in the cab.
Woke up to dad yelling and banging on the truck door yelling, “Get y’all lazy asses up da trouts in da surf!”
Don’t remember how many we caught but they fit in a box and a half. Last time I fished with dad.He finally retired and he and moved back to my grandparents house on Bayou des Glaise. My sons, 8 & 10 had the privilege of spending a week or 2 fishing with dad in the bayou. About a year or so later he died from burns received from an accident.
My sons are in their 40s and still talk about those weeks. Webfoot, who posts here occasionally, tells of dad teaching him how to Start a BBQ fire and letting him have a sip of beer every now and then.
Still miss him. Got dusty in here.....

Keep em coming. This thread is wonderful.

Thanks OB

I had a great set up.

My dad is a deer hunter.

One granddad was a trapper/squirrel hunter.

Other grandad was a bass fisherman.

I learned it all other than duck hunting.

I remember being a teenager and talking my dad into fishing a lake that we have not fished in like 8 years. We pulled up to the first spot and my dad says right before he casts “we are not going to catch anything at this lake.” Seconds later he is saying “I got a big one”. Caught a nice one on the first cast. We go on to murder the fish that day.

Fishing with my paw paw when I was young in his boat. My uncle is fishing in his boat at the same lake. We are catching some fish and my uncle pulls up to us. Points to the sky and says we need to go and he will lead the way. We start leaving and then suddenly my paw paw’s motor died and it will not crank back up. He tells me to check the gas tank and it is bone dry. Uncle turns around and hooks up a tow line and throws us an old tarp. Halfway to the ramp it starts raining. I will never forget how cold that rain was as we struggle to get under this old tarp. After we load up the boat my paw paw gets in the truck and says sarcastically “well that was a good trip.” I said that was fun!!! He just looked at me and then started laughing.

Dad used to fish ole mehico several times a year back in the 70’s. Drive, Fly or RV with his local cronies. Was 10 or so when he brought me, flew into McAllen on a private plane, jumped over boarder. None of our group knew they needed permission from the wives to leave country with minors. Spent a couple hours on phones and several hundred $$ to get the kids through customs.
We land at a remote strip and pile in a 70’s Intl pickup that wouldn’t have been street legal at home. Home base was a hassienda 20 miles from Guerrero. The adults got ripped that night but were up early the next morning. Dad rented a 15’ Grumman v with 18 rude he had to work on to start. We caught bass every cast and at noon I had three metal stringers with 2-3 fish on each hook. Lake limit was 5 per day but president jefferson got all cleaned by t he lake game wardens. We were probably the first kids in Alex to fish Guerrero. Dad told me I couldn’t go back because it ruined me.

Sitting on 5 gallon buckets at the dairy farms pond, cane poles, and grandmas sweet tee in a mason jar. Would give almost anything to have this again.

quote:

---

We land at a remote strip and pile in a 70’s Intl pickup that wouldn’t have been street legal at home. Home base was a hassienda 20 miles from Guerrero. The adults got ripped that night but were up early the next morning. Dad rented a 15’ Grumman v with 18 rude he had to work on to start. We caught bass every cast and at noon I had three metal stringers with 2-3 fish on each hook. Lake limit was 5 per day but president jefferson got all cleaned by t he lake game wardens. We were probably the first kids in Alex to fish Guerrero. Dad told me I couldn’t go back because it ruined me.

---

1982 during baseball strike, I was 17 and went on trip there as a last minute replacement with a family friend that I called uncle but he wasn’t. Oil was still rolling so this was a big boys trip. At McAllen uncle tells me just to tell anyone that asks I’m a 2nd ball player on strike....... epic 5 days