Who was your Hunting Mentor?

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Andrew Wilson

Active member
Having grown up in the city, I had to make up for lost time and learn a lot quickly. So back in 2013, I enrolled in a guide school up in Montana. A real mountain man named Rick Wemple taught me a lot about big-game hunting, wilderness navigation, dealing with clients, and much more. It was a transformative experience. When I returned home, I decided the city wasn't cutting it anymore and moved to the mountains, where I've been ever since. I'm still learning every season.

Who taught you how to hunt?

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Rick and me the green horn
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After 16 days in the Bitterroot mountains, I was 10 pounds lighter and ready to skin any critter that lived.
 
Having grown up in the city, I had to make up for lost time and learn a lot quickly. So back in 2013, I enrolled in a guide school up in Montana. A real mountain man named Rick Wemple taught me a lot about big-game hunting, wilderness navigation, dealing with clients, and much more. It was a transformative experience. When I returned home, I decided the city wasn't cutting it anymore and moved to the mountains, where I've been ever since. I'm still learning every season.

Who taught you how to hunt?

View attachment 1097
Rick and me the green horn
View attachment 1098
After 16 days in the Bitterroot mountains, I was 10 pounds lighter and ready to skin any critter that lived.
My first real hunting mentor was my first gunsmith, Dick DiVitorio. Dick and a Southwest pilot named Jim Stinson took me on my first ever big game hunt for whitetail and turkey in Knob Noster, MO. I believe it’s been almost every hunt in my life that I’ve thought back to a lesson they taught me in my early days of hunting.
 
My high school girlfriend's father. It wasn't a long mentorship. I did not have the time to learn from him all the little technical hunting details that an extended mentorship implies. What he did do was show me what a passion for the outdoors looked like and ignited my curiosity to explore that more. Several others helped put the pieces of the "puzzle" together over time.
 
A family friend Ron Hoff. He, my dad, and I went on many adventures hunting everything from deer to coon with hounds. He passed away two days ago at 94. He hunted until 93. I will sure miss him.
 
My dad. He died in 2023 from cancer but still killed a few deer while he was battling the ugly disease.

I was fortunate he had three brothers and a few good friends that we all hunted together. If my dad had to work I always had someone to take me out, I was the oldest of all the kids so there was always a spot for me.

Those were some characters and times for sure.
 
My dad. He died in 2023 from cancer but still killed a few deer while he was battling the ugly disease.

I was fortunate he had three brothers and a few good friends that we all hunted together. If my dad had to work I always had someone to take me out, I was the oldest of all the kids so there was always a spot for me.

Those were some characters and times for sure.
I’m so sorry for your loss. The cool part is that you get to connect with him a little bit every time you step into the woods.
 
I’m so sorry for your loss. The cool part is that you get to connect with him a little bit every time you step into the woods.

Thanks!

I had a great dad for 45 years. There are a lot people that never met their dad or worse yet had shithead fathers. I feel extremely fortunate.

Every time my kids kill something I remind them how proud their grandpa would have been.
 
Thanks!

I had a great dad for 45 years. There are a lot people that never met their dad or worse yet had shithead fathers. I feel extremely fortunate.

Every time my kids kill something I remind them how proud their grandpa would have been.
You’re absolutely right and that’s such a great perspective on it.
 
Amazing perspective, @gelhaargerald
and thank you for sharing and the simple beauty of this.

In my faith, I like to think we get to see those departed loved ones again at some stage, but shouldn’t be in a rush to get there, as we all have unfinished business here.

I miss my Dad every day, he was my “blocking fullback” and “head coach” all in one, and I was blessed to be able to say goodbye for now when that unfortunate time came. I miss my son, Paddy, it’s a hole in my heart I try to fill every day knowing I never will.

My guidance: carry all those “angels” on your shoulders and in to the field, live life with an appetite for adventure as if they were right there with you enjoying the same proverbial feast, believe you will indeed meet again, and trust these times will give you much to discuss and laugh about. You do have a choice, it’s actually easier to not, but having tried both paths, I’ll assure you one is far more peaceful and fulfilling.

Apologies for the sermon, this is a passion point for me.

Thanks!

I had a great dad for 45 years. There are a lot people that never met their dad or worse yet had shithead fathers. I feel extremely fortunate.

Every time my kids kill something I remind them how proud their grandpa would have been.
 
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