Welcome to outdoor adventures - Ratliff style!
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First big game hunt. Flat Top Wilderness
Area, Colorado. 1998
Come along as I share my families outdoor pursuits. Our story is no different than many others - but it is different than many others. While some generalities and comparisons can always be made, we each travel our own paths, deal with day-to-day life, and hope to leave things better than we found them. Which by default, creates a unique story for all of us.
My journey into the outdoors goes back to my first squirrel hunt. It was with my Grandad, Dad, and Uncle. I couldn't have been more than 7 years old. The only thing I can remember is all four of us sitting under a tree in the woods! From there, there wasn't much that happened in a defined way.
Dad had been in the Army in Alaska and taken up big game hunting. I used to love to hear the stories of spending 3 years in and out of one valley and only seeing a hermit from a distance the entire time. It is hard for me to grasp the full impact of the openness. He brought back his matching Winchester Model 70's in .30-06 and .338 Magnum, but discontinued the sport in the lower 48.
Along about my junior year of high school, something inside yearned to hunt. My Grandad had passed away and my grandmother let me use his Savage Arms, single-barrel, 12-gauge to squirrel hunt with. Every Saturday morning, no matter how beat up from the football game the night before, I was in the woods looking for bushy tails. Once in college, I had an opportunity to experience a deer hunt with my Uncle. Dad decided he would give it a try also - after all, how hard could it be to kill a deer after shooting moose, caribou, and bear? And that, my friends, is where my story really begins....
My journey into the outdoors goes back to my first squirrel hunt. It was with my Grandad, Dad, and Uncle. I couldn't have been more than 7 years old. The only thing I can remember is all four of us sitting under a tree in the woods! From there, there wasn't much that happened in a defined way.
Dad had been in the Army in Alaska and taken up big game hunting. I used to love to hear the stories of spending 3 years in and out of one valley and only seeing a hermit from a distance the entire time. It is hard for me to grasp the full impact of the openness. He brought back his matching Winchester Model 70's in .30-06 and .338 Magnum, but discontinued the sport in the lower 48.
Along about my junior year of high school, something inside yearned to hunt. My Grandad had passed away and my grandmother let me use his Savage Arms, single-barrel, 12-gauge to squirrel hunt with. Every Saturday morning, no matter how beat up from the football game the night before, I was in the woods looking for bushy tails. Once in college, I had an opportunity to experience a deer hunt with my Uncle. Dad decided he would give it a try also - after all, how hard could it be to kill a deer after shooting moose, caribou, and bear? And that, my friends, is where my story really begins....