Rusty Spinner
Active member
My first fishing outing was when I was 4 years old with my grandfather on my mother's side on Pines Lake in Wayne. We were visiting for a week from California where I was born and lived the first 5 years of my life. I caught my first sunnies on worms under a big 'ol bobber. And I was as hooked as the sunnies were. When I was 7, my dad bought a new LL Bean fiberglass 7 weight and I fell instantly in love. I bugged the crap out of him until he broke down and bought me my own fly rod and the rest is history with my fishing.
Ever since I could walk, Dad took me hunting when we lived in California. It was often with one or two of my uncles and my grandfather and mostly for small game. I was too young to be in the deer woods, but I remember driving in the back of my uncle's Ford pickmeup truck like it was yesterday. Dad was a wood carver, and he carved me a flintlock rifle I could pretend I was hunting with. By age 10, again I was bugging the crap out of him to take me to my hunter's ed course and get me in the woods. My first time out was during 6 Day shotgun season, in the snow that year ('75). On the last day, Saturday, dad and I were following some deer tracks. Deer were almost nonexistent back then in West Milford where we lived. We stopped when I saw some weird bird tracks in the snow that suddenly stopped. As I was staring at them, a grouse burst out of the snow and took off as only a grouse can. I soiled my pants on the spot. Dad fell to the ground laughing. And a wild bird hunter was born. I wanted to know everything there was to know about that amazing encounter and the king of all gamebirds. We hunted together until he passed 8 years ago next month. Here's a shot of his last bird hunt. We hunted deer together a few more seasons, but this was his last hike with my old Brittany, Jed. We both limited on woodcock and I took a grouse in the DWNRA near Stokes. Jed and Dad are both long gone, but his Remington 870 sits in a place of honor in my gun safe.
So who introduced you to field and stream?
Ever since I could walk, Dad took me hunting when we lived in California. It was often with one or two of my uncles and my grandfather and mostly for small game. I was too young to be in the deer woods, but I remember driving in the back of my uncle's Ford pickmeup truck like it was yesterday. Dad was a wood carver, and he carved me a flintlock rifle I could pretend I was hunting with. By age 10, again I was bugging the crap out of him to take me to my hunter's ed course and get me in the woods. My first time out was during 6 Day shotgun season, in the snow that year ('75). On the last day, Saturday, dad and I were following some deer tracks. Deer were almost nonexistent back then in West Milford where we lived. We stopped when I saw some weird bird tracks in the snow that suddenly stopped. As I was staring at them, a grouse burst out of the snow and took off as only a grouse can. I soiled my pants on the spot. Dad fell to the ground laughing. And a wild bird hunter was born. I wanted to know everything there was to know about that amazing encounter and the king of all gamebirds. We hunted together until he passed 8 years ago next month. Here's a shot of his last bird hunt. We hunted deer together a few more seasons, but this was his last hike with my old Brittany, Jed. We both limited on woodcock and I took a grouse in the DWNRA near Stokes. Jed and Dad are both long gone, but his Remington 870 sits in a place of honor in my gun safe.
So who introduced you to field and stream?