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Not Easy being a Father's Son
- Thread starter Stid2677
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Stid2677
WKR
- Joined
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- 2,346
WOW,, this was a walk down memory lane.. Zach is doing great, don't get to see him as much as I would like. We did get out for the Packraft Rondy.
Daniel_M
WKR
Kudos to you for sticking to it, Steve. Zach has come a long way since he first got to Alaska, you'd never even guess his trials in history. I'm reminded daily of how difficult being a father really is after the years I have also spent with a difficult son and hoping those difficulties lay in the past.
One lesson I've learned with kids of any age, they just need someone in their corner, no matter what.
One lesson I've learned with kids of any age, they just need someone in their corner, no matter what.
Tears in my eyes my friend. I have an 11 year old boy I try to take everywhere with me including hunting. I've lived my early fatherhood with your sentiment of spending as much time with them as possible. I've even learned to let my boy lead me and take me places he is interested or knowledgeable in. Nice to hear a reassuring story of my hopes as a father.
Best story hands down I have read in a very long time....like others have said I will revisit this story again.
There are a lot of lessons for us Dad's in your story, but this sticks out for me....something the wife and I are discussing more and more as the kids grow.
Thankyou.
There are a lot of lessons for us Dad's in your story, but this sticks out for me....something the wife and I are discussing more and more as the kids grow.
Thankyou.
Last edited:
Just found and read this, one of those hidden treasures on Rokslide. Great read Steve, thank you.
One of our best threads....
mfllood3800
WKR
I saw this post a while ago and just never bothered to investigate it. I am so glad I did, it was real and precious to all of us who read along as though we were there.
It is special for me, as I just lost my dad a few days ago.
He is the one responsible for me discovering the lure of the mountains, hunting, fishing, trapping and a love and responsibility for the outdoors.
He was the guy who made his own knives, black powder horns, lived in a cabin in the northern Wisconsin woods with no electricity, or indoor running water, trapping for a living. He was what I always wished I could be- Woodsman in the truest sense.
He was my little league coach, loudest cheer leader at my wrestling matches.
We drifted a part after he and my mom divorced and I turned into a teenager. I moved from Wisc to the West and rarely saw or talked with him.
I cant explain why, we always got along, it's just what happened. We would talk on the phone at Christmas, birthdays and such, but never anything with substance in it.
Until I decided to connect with the man he was and the man I had become
I decided this year, I would reach out and find the one thing we both loved- Mountains. I called him and invited him to come to Utah and Elk hunt with me.
He was 74. He said he couldn't hike with me, and I told him we would drive in the Ranger and locate them that way.
I purchased his ticket, bought some good warm hunting clothes, located easy to hunt elk, and we were set.
We talked about every week, preparing for his reunion to us and the mountains.
2 weeks before his trip out here, he had a massive heart attack and died. They were able to bring him back, but he was unresponsive for 2 days and the Dr's gave little hope.
I prayed like I never have before, and soon he was responding, and eventually let out of the ICU and the hospital.
Not many are afforded a true miracle like this and I was forever grateful.
He was almost back to 100% of what he was prior to the heart attack. But over 60 yrs of smoking, drinking, took it's toll on him and he was not ready for this altitude or hunt. His 100% is most peoples 25%.
I secretly cancelled his airline ticket before the deadline came, and when I called him, he said, "I don't think I can make it".
I responded with, "I know dad"... We both knew that day wouldn't come this side of eternity.
Every hunt I finished this year, I called him and he lived it thru those calls and pics I would text to him.
It wasn't the same as him being here, but it was still pretty awesome.
Sunday I received the phone call that he had passed in his sleep.
Though we didn't get the type of year I hoped for, we still had moments of hoping and dreaming , about the high mountain adventures we wished we had.
My first 3 hunts this year were awesome, cause I knew I could call my dad and send pics of my success, and walk him thru the whole hunt and hear him say, "wow, Marty, that was awesome".....
Today I was up in the Utah mountains, on another elk hunt, and stopped in a place where I thought, "dad would've loved seeing this ".
This hunt feels without purpose, void of excitement and I struggle with the mindset to go out each day to even try and fill my tag and freezer.
Because when I do, what will be missing is the pat on the back, the high five and the "wow Marty good job", coming from my dad.
I head to Wisc on Tuesday, for his memorial service, wishing it was him coming here instead, to hit the mountains and create memories of what we both love, because he instilled in me the same passions he had.
I will close this post with an echo of Steve's... Sons reach out to your fathers, and fathers reach out to your sons.
It is special for me, as I just lost my dad a few days ago.
He is the one responsible for me discovering the lure of the mountains, hunting, fishing, trapping and a love and responsibility for the outdoors.
He was the guy who made his own knives, black powder horns, lived in a cabin in the northern Wisconsin woods with no electricity, or indoor running water, trapping for a living. He was what I always wished I could be- Woodsman in the truest sense.
He was my little league coach, loudest cheer leader at my wrestling matches.
We drifted a part after he and my mom divorced and I turned into a teenager. I moved from Wisc to the West and rarely saw or talked with him.
I cant explain why, we always got along, it's just what happened. We would talk on the phone at Christmas, birthdays and such, but never anything with substance in it.
Until I decided to connect with the man he was and the man I had become
I decided this year, I would reach out and find the one thing we both loved- Mountains. I called him and invited him to come to Utah and Elk hunt with me.
He was 74. He said he couldn't hike with me, and I told him we would drive in the Ranger and locate them that way.
I purchased his ticket, bought some good warm hunting clothes, located easy to hunt elk, and we were set.
We talked about every week, preparing for his reunion to us and the mountains.
2 weeks before his trip out here, he had a massive heart attack and died. They were able to bring him back, but he was unresponsive for 2 days and the Dr's gave little hope.
I prayed like I never have before, and soon he was responding, and eventually let out of the ICU and the hospital.
Not many are afforded a true miracle like this and I was forever grateful.
He was almost back to 100% of what he was prior to the heart attack. But over 60 yrs of smoking, drinking, took it's toll on him and he was not ready for this altitude or hunt. His 100% is most peoples 25%.
I secretly cancelled his airline ticket before the deadline came, and when I called him, he said, "I don't think I can make it".
I responded with, "I know dad"... We both knew that day wouldn't come this side of eternity.
Every hunt I finished this year, I called him and he lived it thru those calls and pics I would text to him.
It wasn't the same as him being here, but it was still pretty awesome.
Sunday I received the phone call that he had passed in his sleep.
Though we didn't get the type of year I hoped for, we still had moments of hoping and dreaming , about the high mountain adventures we wished we had.
My first 3 hunts this year were awesome, cause I knew I could call my dad and send pics of my success, and walk him thru the whole hunt and hear him say, "wow, Marty, that was awesome".....
Today I was up in the Utah mountains, on another elk hunt, and stopped in a place where I thought, "dad would've loved seeing this ".
This hunt feels without purpose, void of excitement and I struggle with the mindset to go out each day to even try and fill my tag and freezer.
Because when I do, what will be missing is the pat on the back, the high five and the "wow Marty good job", coming from my dad.
I head to Wisc on Tuesday, for his memorial service, wishing it was him coming here instead, to hit the mountains and create memories of what we both love, because he instilled in me the same passions he had.
I will close this post with an echo of Steve's... Sons reach out to your fathers, and fathers reach out to your sons.
Attachments
I’ve read and enjoyed a lot of your threads mf, this one will stick with me for a while. Sorry about your dad but glad you were communicating with him. Where you from in Wisconsin?
mfllood3800
WKR
NP- I was born and raised in Milton, which was a small farm community north of Janesville.
We hunted each year there as well as around Tomahawk/Minoqua area.
Thx for your kind words
We hunted each year there as well as around Tomahawk/Minoqua area.
Thx for your kind words
- Joined
- Oct 9, 2019
- Messages
- 20
Loved your story man, great stuff.
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