Having grown up overseas because my father is a deep-sea driller, I also grew up with a strong US Military presence and an awareness of safety.

Having spent every summer vacation of my life on our 6th generation family farm in East Texas, I grew up with a fishing pole and a gun.
We didn’t have much access to television overseas, and what we did was usually in a foreign language, and usually a government propaganda channel.

In East Texas we had one channel, KTRE, and other than Saturday morning cartoons; there wasn’t much to watch that was interesting.
As such, I grew up outside. My brothers and I were all active in the Boy Scouts and we all received our Eagle Scout. My East Texas family lived off the land as much as possible.

What is my point? My point is someone can be new to “hunting” and not be new to guns, or how to sharpen a knife, or how to start a fire, or how to survive in the great outdoors.

In East Texas we didn’t “hunt”. We didn’t have deer blinds or feeders. When people were hungry, they went to one of the stock ponds and caught bass, catfish or perch. They might shoot a squirrel or deer to eat. But the concept of “hunting” was alien to me until I was in my mid-twenties. I will never forget my first real hunting trip.

The first time I drove to a ranch to spend the weekend at a hunting camp with the sole purpose of sitting in a deer blind, watching deer, waiting to see that buck that I might shoot.
I was in El Indio, TX. I don’t remember the name of the ranch, but I do remember being as excited as a five year old when they wake up Christmas Morning.

I saw many deer, but I didn’t shoot one because the smallest buck was bigger than anything I had ever seen in East Texas. We went fishing and my host, Todd Young, caught a huge bass. I will never forget sitting in my first ‘Tower Blind” that I think was 25 feet up in the air on a bluff overlooking the Rio Grande River. I could see far into Mexico and was surprised by the beautiful Pecan Orchards across the border. The first time the Border Patrol came zooming up, said something to Hayes, and then zoomed off. Sitting around a camp fire in the bitter cold wind, throwing horseshoes and eating a big steak and then off to bed in an old trailer with mice. I even remember the songs Todd played in my truck as we drove down to the ranch. Whenever I hear Lynyrd Skynard, “Tuesday’s Gone”, I think of that trip and how my life was changed as now I sit here typing on www.TexasHuntFish.com.

I will never forget Todd Young or Hayes Pitts for opening my eyes to such an amazing experience.

Thank you.

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