I grew up in Lake Havasu. Well I never actually grew up, but that is where we moved in 1968, when I was 8 years old. We hunted in the Hualapai Mountains above Kingman. My First hunt was when I was 10. I ordered my Bear bow from a catalog with my own money. I could barely pull it back but I did. I remember a Game warden stopping us and he inspected my bow because he didn't think it was legal, but it did have a 40# stamped on it. Then he asked me to pull it back. I got it most of the way, he smiled and left.
My dad and I headed up the biggest mountain, we called it buck mountain. As we crested the top we ran into a heard of about 10 bucks. I was so blown away that I never shot, but my dad did but missed.
As we sat down to eat lunch, I thought about the all the Deer hunting books I read, the O'Conner stories and monster mulies. At that point, it really didn't matter to me if I got a deer or not. I was living the old west, archery hunting deer up on that "Buck" mountain. I will never forget that time.
Thank you dad for taking me!