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Discussion Starter · #1 ·
Quit fidgeting! Be quiet! Sit still! Pat attention! The words still ring fondly I my ears. Dad would scold me for scoping a squirrel or playing with the shiny new Buck knife at my side. I remember these early hunts as if they were yesterday.

Finally of age to join in the annual traditions of the Fall, I was green in every sense. Every skill I acquired was from watching and learning from Dad. A coal miner by trade, days off were few and far between. But the Monday after Thanksgiving was always one of them.

In my early years , like thousands of others in the “Orange Army”, we headed north. The Northern tier was our destination. Recently the farmland and woodlots of Washington county serve as the preferred haunts. Not many years have passed without fresh venison in the freezer.

Nowadays, being a father to two of my own, I realize how hard it is to balance the rigors of work, family, and play. This makes time spent outdoors all the more cherished! However the spirit and heritage of P.A. hunting will never be lost. For this I thank Dad. So heres to the Dads out there who have, and continue to, “Pass it on”! Thanks
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