The Making of a Hunter: By Jordan Grimes

When I was a small boy growing up in Texas, my parents moved to a 7 acre patch of land just outside of San Antonio. We moved there from a neighborhood in San Antonio proper. My memory of the move is clouded by that of my smashed thumb I got from the city house's door that required several stitches. The thing I do remember, was the excitement of being outdoors, just like lots of small children would be at that age. Out there I could wake up early in the morning, grab breakfast, and be out the door not to return until mom rang the giant, metal triangle she had on the side porch for dinner.

My mother use to tell my wife the story of how I would leave the house fully clothed and return with only my cowboy boots on, leaving her to find the litter of clothing I had left scattered down the trail into the woods. I loved the outdoors, and it has been an off and on relationship ever since.

I would help around the country house, with my older brother and dad, with whatever needed to be done. We had chickens that we had to collect eggs from everyday. This was always fun, because I was scared stiff of the rooster that we had. When we had no chores, my brother and I were off in the woods tromping around, building forts and roaming the country side.

My grandfathers both told me stories of their childhoods; hunting, fishing and camping. It filled my head with wonder and awe, making these two men that I looked up to very much (for good reason). Not only my grandfathers, but most of my family and friends love the outdoors, making my passion for the woods, and animals that lived in them, stronger. I started hunting with my dad at around the age of 7. I could not shoot anything until I got older, but I didn't care about that one bit. The best part of hunting was the time spent in nature, watching and studying the animals. That, and the time spend developing the strong bond I have with my father. The outdoors were not just part of my life, they took hold of my soul!

Abe BullmanComment