LIFE OF AN OLD HUNTER:... by Ron LaClair
The years went by and before I knew it
My youth was gone, I lived right through it
My youthful shine and unwrinkled skin
would never be my look again
Color has gone from my hair
as white and gray took over there
I walk a little bent no longer tall
a cane helps me so I won't fall
gone are those days of yesteryear
when legs carried me like a running deer
My eyes could see for a mile or more
muscles never tired, they never got sore
physical strength of those early years
is waning, now replaced by fears
Fear of losing what once was me
Fear of not being what I use to be
I don't believe that all is lost
Old Father time has taken his cost
those lines and wrinkles on my skin
are maps of battles fought hard to win
My body is old and wearing out
but my mind is clear and my heart is stout
The woods and streams still call to me
My spirit will answer the call to be free
The love of the woods still dwells in me
as long as there's breath that's how it will be
when time here is over and the Lord calls me home
I hope he's got room for an old hunter to roam
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Well said
That touched my heart, and brought tears to my eyes, Ron...
I retired this year, Age is creeping up on me, I've seen too many birthdays...
Thank you, Ron. You the man.
Well said! Thanks for putting it into words :clapper:
Dang Ron for some reason after reading your recent posts I seem to get a little something in the corner of my eye.
Great poem! You truly are an inspiration.
Woodchucker,
I feel the same way except I've been retired for 8 years now. Still busy forging knives and hunting hogs in SC & GA...tippit
Amen!
Great poem!
Amen :notworthy:
Never would I believe, that a simple thing like "age" could change things so much...
The only hunting I do these days, is over the cabin. At the base of the mountain we hunted as kids.
That's fine with me! I like to walk, and there's miles to roam!! I stillhunt the woodroads, see quite a few deer and even shoot at some too. Every time up there, is like reliving my youth...
Except.... Back in the day, before 4-wheelers and sideXsides, we walked. Us boys would hit the top of the mountain 2 sometimes 3 times a day!! I tend to shun the ride these days, preferring to walk. I haven't "walked" to the top in many years. I got up there 3 years ago, but cheated and got a ride most of the way up, LMAO! It was good to be up there again though! What keeps me from trying to walk to the top, Is that I don't think I would have enough time?
The old mountain is STEEP!! I would have to be up top by noon, to insure enough daylight to get back down. A miss step coming down, and a fall, could be a disaster!! So, I hunt low, but my mind and my heart are up top.
My hips and knees hurt, and I'm always out of wind. I'm getting old... But my heart and spirit are young!!! The mountain is calling, and I must go!!! Someday, I'll be too old to climb the mountain. Then, one day I'll be gone...
But, the mountain will be my final resting place. My boys will carry my ashes to the top, and spread them amongst the laurel where the Big Bucks bed.... Seems like my kinda place. :archer:
Wow that was excellent :clapper:
Chuck, use an ATV to get to the top of the mountain and bring you back down. You can walk around and hunt while you're up their.
I have to use my side X side to get me to the woods and back to the cabin, can't walk too good with this big boot on my leg
We do what we gotta do to do what we gotta do
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I "cheat" more than I let on, Ron!!
But I think you know where I'm coming from.... :thumbsup:
When you're physically not able to do and go where you want to go, a cane, a walking stick or an ATV is not cheating if it gets you to where you can hunt.
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Excellent, Thanks Ron
Another good one Ron. :clapper:
Sir,
Will be 74 shortly and I understand what you so eloquently stated, I thank the Lord I can still be out in nature, count our blessings....
That is awesome!!!
Well don Ron
BRAVO! Give her hell Ron.......
I guess I'm just a sprout, I'll turn 55 in a few weeks (although I already feel the miles).
Ron, thanks for reminding me it's not too late for me to get started hunting with the trad bow seriously. I don't know how much time I have, but I know I won't waste it.
Nice
Another great poem, Ron. I have found that age no longer creeps up on me but comes pretty much on full force. I was fussing to my wife last week about "wanting to have the want-to still" but it seems as time has flown my desires and drive have changed in a lot of ways. She said, "What's the matter with you is that you have a 50 year old soul that lives in a 77 year old body." Lots of truth in that. Ron I really admire your determination and that encourages the rest of us to keep going. Thank you. :thumbsup:
Well said, Ron. Those words speak to a lot of us. Thanks.
:thumbsup: Heartfelt Words. But, Fear Not . . . traditional hunting has always been about adapting and overcoming. The older we become the better we get at those two skills. Like you Ron, I'm hunting until the dirt hits me in the face.
God bless you old warrior, you have traced a trail.
Well done Ron and very inspiring :clapper: :campfire:
A great and full of truths poem! Makes me look back, and brings back memories!
Ernie
Don't give up, don't look down.
Wow, did that hit home.
It's not me
I look in the mirror, what do I see?
The man in the mirror, he is too old to be me.
The man in the mirror, he is at least sixty three.
It is an old man, that can't be me.
The man in the mirror has to squint to see,
My eyes were perfect, that can't be me.
The man in the mirror, he has no hair.
The man in the mirror, his head is bare.
That can't be me, it is just not fair.
The man has trouble with his memory.
I never forgot, that can't be me.
The man in the mirror has hands that shake.
His hands are weak and always ache.
The man in the mirror has a ceramic and metal knee
Mine are real, that is not me.
The man in the mirror use to jump and run.
The man in the mirror can't have that fun.
The man in the mirror can run no more.
The man in the mirror is too tired and sore.
The man in the mirror had big dreams.
He wanted to hunt and fish the streams.
He never minded being alone.
The woods and rivers were as good as home.
Awesome.
Thanks You, Sir. I feel your pain. The Rockies get steeper and steeper every year.
Thanks to both Ron and John for expressing what many of us experience. Both great poems. :thumbsup: