Before the stories begin...
Ratliff's Hunting History: Or "Animals" I Have Known
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Not long after starting the path of being a hunter and realizing the impact it would probably have on my life, I had a thought. Sometime in the future, I wanted to write a book about my outdoor adventures. Yes - the title was to be something like the one above. However, the animals part wouldn't necessarily be about the ones I was pursuing! Through the years spent afield, I've had the great joy of spending time outdoors with like minded individuals and groups of all walks. From my best hunting partner to someone I met on a plane because he saw my deer magazine - each encounter is a part of my path.
So what you will find as I continually add to this site, are chapters in that book that I have yet to write. Part of me wants it to be a history for my sons to follow and know of adventures I haven't had cause to recount to them. (Probably because they weren't old enough to hear some of the language or appreciate some of the situations!) Another reason is to share new and evolving stories that keep adding to that book. And another reason - just to have a place to put pictures of my path as a hunter, fisherman, and outdoors man; this part is meant to celebrate the animals I've been blessed to harvest or catch. I mean isn't that one of the core reasons we cite as game pursuers - if we don't humanely kill and catch, that majestic buck's or lunker hawg's life goes unnoticed in the annals of time?
As far as the pictures go, you won't find just ones of me. When I got the urge to build this website, I knew there were pictures stored in some different places that I would want to scan and use. Some people are industrious enough to actually put them in albums - nice, neat, and organized. However, most of mine were put in a shoe box a long time ago. So I dusted off that shoe box and started digging and scanning. But it made sense to title this The Shoe Box, where collections of memories and stories are kept.
So what you will find as I continually add to this site, are chapters in that book that I have yet to write. Part of me wants it to be a history for my sons to follow and know of adventures I haven't had cause to recount to them. (Probably because they weren't old enough to hear some of the language or appreciate some of the situations!) Another reason is to share new and evolving stories that keep adding to that book. And another reason - just to have a place to put pictures of my path as a hunter, fisherman, and outdoors man; this part is meant to celebrate the animals I've been blessed to harvest or catch. I mean isn't that one of the core reasons we cite as game pursuers - if we don't humanely kill and catch, that majestic buck's or lunker hawg's life goes unnoticed in the annals of time?
As far as the pictures go, you won't find just ones of me. When I got the urge to build this website, I knew there were pictures stored in some different places that I would want to scan and use. Some people are industrious enough to actually put them in albums - nice, neat, and organized. However, most of mine were put in a shoe box a long time ago. So I dusted off that shoe box and started digging and scanning. But it made sense to title this The Shoe Box, where collections of memories and stories are kept.
My First Deer Hunt
Elliott County, Kentucky 1986
![Picture](/uploads/1/6/2/8/16286132/5235891.jpg)
Wow - that seems like a long time ago when it gets typed! However, the events of that first deer hunt are etched in my mind as clear as if it happened minutes ago. My Uncle Jack had been pursuing deer for a season or two. Our friend that he hunted with invited Dad and myself to join them on his parents farm near Grayson Lake.
That Friday night was spent in a sleeping bag on the floor of a small house. Before turning in, I had pulled out the .30-06 and wiped it down. The lens on the scope seemed dirty and had a little moisture in it. So, being the novice I was, I took it apart and fixed that little issue. Keep in mind, this scope and rifle were 20 years old by then. No one else seemed to notice what I had done.
Next morning the weather was damp and drizzling rain. I worked my way up the hollow behind the house and gained the ridge which led to a nice stump on a secondary point. Once shooting light came on, a few shots started to ring out. Probably an hour or two later, I heard something behind me coming off the primary point. I was standing by a tree and swiveled around coming up with the rifle. Twenty yards away and coming fast was a nice 6 pointer. The scope came up and.... all I could see was black! It had completely fogged over. Opening both eyes, I saw the deer angle to my right and toward a small hollow. I instinctively sighted down the barrel and pulled the trigger. Just as I did - he dropped off a small ledge and I missed clean AND entirely! There was no chance of a follow-up shot as I watched him scoot down the hollow. As I stood there, the worst case of the shakes hit me. It was great and I was hooked!
A few minutes later, Dad came walking off the point. He asked a question that would be repeated in the years to come - "Did you get him?". When I told him about the scope, he groaned and told me I shouldn't have taken it apart. And that I should have let him know about the moisture issues the night before. He would have made me use his rifle. That news didn't make me feel any less disappointed.
That Friday night was spent in a sleeping bag on the floor of a small house. Before turning in, I had pulled out the .30-06 and wiped it down. The lens on the scope seemed dirty and had a little moisture in it. So, being the novice I was, I took it apart and fixed that little issue. Keep in mind, this scope and rifle were 20 years old by then. No one else seemed to notice what I had done.
Next morning the weather was damp and drizzling rain. I worked my way up the hollow behind the house and gained the ridge which led to a nice stump on a secondary point. Once shooting light came on, a few shots started to ring out. Probably an hour or two later, I heard something behind me coming off the primary point. I was standing by a tree and swiveled around coming up with the rifle. Twenty yards away and coming fast was a nice 6 pointer. The scope came up and.... all I could see was black! It had completely fogged over. Opening both eyes, I saw the deer angle to my right and toward a small hollow. I instinctively sighted down the barrel and pulled the trigger. Just as I did - he dropped off a small ledge and I missed clean AND entirely! There was no chance of a follow-up shot as I watched him scoot down the hollow. As I stood there, the worst case of the shakes hit me. It was great and I was hooked!
A few minutes later, Dad came walking off the point. He asked a question that would be repeated in the years to come - "Did you get him?". When I told him about the scope, he groaned and told me I shouldn't have taken it apart. And that I should have let him know about the moisture issues the night before. He would have made me use his rifle. That news didn't make me feel any less disappointed.