On the first day of Wisconsin's 2007 youth deer season, we woke to rain. Sid, my son, thought it would be better if we stayed at home. I agreed with his suggestion.

The showers cleared up by the afternoon, and it was nearly 85 degrees in the shade. Our hunting buddies thought it was senseless to go hunting on such a hot day. The old wife's tale that deer do not move around when it is hot is wrong, and Sid's buck proved it.

We headed out to the woods as the bugs followed us. The first hour passed by with no sign of a deer. We watched time tick away at a slow pace. Then a doe showed up. Sid wanted to take a shot, but I told him to wait. Some more does entered the field and he asked me again if he could shoot. Once more, I told him to wait.

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I have been hunting and fishing with my dad since I was four years old and took my first deer when I was eight. I really love the outdoors and try to go hunting and fishing every chance I get.

On Dec. 1, 2007, my dad and I got up early and headed to a place owned by one of our friends. He has about 20 acres and most of it is right on the Guadalupe River, which is located about 250 yards from our hunting blind. 

Around 6:45 a.m., four white-tailed does came into the field to feed. We watched them for nearly 30 minutes and suddenly spotted an axis doe in an opening. Right behind it was a massive axis buck. I told my dad what I saw and handed him the binoculars.

He gave me the gun, told me to take my time and shoot when I was ready. It looked like the two axis deer were going to come in, but they stopped about 30 yards from the does.

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Ron Wells of Stratford, Wis., is a very successful whitetail hunter. He has more Pope & Young bucks to his credit than you have fingers to count, and two of his trophies score in the 170s. But this article isn't about Ron's hunting achievements. Rather, it's what Ron has decided to do with his hunting knowledge that is much more noteworthy. 

Over the last several years, Ron's focus has shifted from filling his own tag, to teaching his two sons about the natural world and instilling his love of the outdoors in them. From the results so far, it appears his boys are very fast learners.

Kodi and Kyle Wells were first introduced to hunting when they were three years old. Since Kodi is a year older than Kyle, he was the first to accompany his father and grandfather into the woods during deer season. It was Kyle's turn the following year, and the two boys have been hooked on hunting ever since.

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"Sit right here until I come back for you," my dad said. "Whatever you do, don't get up. I will be on down in the woods a bit. If you need anything, key me up on the radio. It will be daylight soon. Make a good shot. Good luck, son."

I can still remember those words ringing in my ears some 22 years later after being wedged in a wooden deer stand with a 16-gauge shotgun held firmly in the clutches of my white-knuckled hands. I added the part about the radio. We used the scream and yell method back then. I remember not knowing which way to expect the game to come from and certainly not knowing which way my father would be arriving from to pick me up. Heck, I didn't even know the general direction of the truck. I was lost before I even had the chance to get lost.

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This story is about the first year I went bowhunting with my dad. I was 12 years old, and we were hunting in Clarksville, Mich., at our deer lease. I had already been on two hunts that year but had only seen a very small doe, which I passed up.

After my dad parked the truck, I got my hunting gear on, readied my bow, my dad sprayed me with scent-eliminating spray, and we were on our way to the treestand. It took about 5-8 minutes to make our way through the field. When we got to our treestand, my dad and I put out some scent canisters hoping these would bring in some bucks.

We climbed up into the double treestand and pulled our bows up. After securing ourselves to the tree and hanging our bows, we waited. We were settled in the stand by 3 p.m. I didn't see anything for about two hours other than a few squirrels and birds. Another hour and a half passed. By 6:30 p.m. something was running through the woods past our field. A big doe took off, giving me no chance for a shot.

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Two years ago I went on my first hunt. I had just passed a hunter safety course that year, so I was very excited. I was using a Remington .35. It was opening day, and Dad and I went out that morning and saw a little buck and a few does. I let those pass.

That afternoon we didn't see anything. I was starting to regret letting that little deer go. But that evening around 4:30, a big, tall 12-point buck came out. I was excited and tried to get situated to shoot, but the buck went back into the woods.

About five minutes later, the same buck came out again. I squatted down and aimed then I fired. The buck took off running, so I put another round into the chamber and fired again. It kept running. I had knots in my stomach, thinking that I missed. We waited about 30 minutes and then went to look for it.

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By Alex Campbell

-- My name is Alex, and I am 12 years old and this is my story. It was a very cold winter day for ice fishing. But we ice anglers would consider it to be hot. I had just bought an ice shack the previous year, so I asked my mom if we could go ice fishing. Her response was, "Yes."

She said, "Please get your stuff and I'll warm up the car." Once I had all of my things, we were off. When we got to the place, there must have been at least 50 or more people that I could see. We parked, unloaded our equipment, and set off for our journey.

I set up the tip-ups as my mom set up the shack. I put one to the left, one to the front, and one further back. As I got closer to my mom, she had already set up the shack and started fishing for huge bluegill. We were jigging for an hour when I looked out the window and my left tip-up was up. I told my mom to get gaff. When we got to the hole, the spinner was not spinning so I gave it 30 seconds to spin and pulled. Nothing.

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By Gita Smith

There's no two ways about it. Taylor Parria is a diehard hunter. She'd rather go hunting than do almost anything else. Taylor, who lives in Marrero, La., first went to deer camp with her dad when she was a baby. Now 12, she has taken three deer, the first one (a doe) when she was eight. Two years later came her first buck. Last December, her father took her to the Ford Ranch in Texas where she shot a great 8-pointer. Her gun of choice, right now, is a Savage Arms rifle in 7 mm.

"I mostly go to hunting camp in Hazelhurst, Miss., where we have 3,700 acres and a campsite," Taylor says. "There's three ways to get into the woods from the camp. There are a high percentage of oaks and some pines there. We love to go because so many of our friends are there, and it's a lot of fun."

The family and their hunting pals gave names to some of the places around their hunting lease. That way, hunters know which stands each person is in. "I like to hunt in the stands at two places, David's Swamp and Dallas. I also like the power line stands because you can see a long way," says Taylor.

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By Gita Smith

Photo: Nick Basler displays his turkey's fan. At the time of this hunt he was 13.

If it's spring, the woods are abuzz with the sounds of turkeys.

"Gobble gobble gobblegobble GOBBLE!" go the older males. Or, you may hear a softer "cluck" or "putt," or "yowp-yowp-yowp" from the hens. They're telling the gobblers, "Here I am." The jakes, the young boys, try to gobble. But the sound comes out like a very strange cough.

If you want to bag a tom turkey this spring, it's time to make some sounds of your own. Here is a list of some basics you should know. But remember, in the end, turkey hunting is all about calling a gobbler into shotgun range.

Before the season opens, scout the land where you will hunt. Carry binoculars and turkey calls, but no shotgun.

Nick Basler from Desloge, Mo., has already bagged 6 gobblers, and he's only 15.

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By Gita Smith

It's hard to say who is the most excited hunter in the Harris family when deer season rolls around: Lauren or her parents. The night before opening day, all their clothes are laid out: gloves, zero hoods, boots, camo -- all of it! The alarm goes off at 5 a.m., and Lauren is sure to call out, "I'm up and already dressed. You two need to get a move on it."

The Harrises live in Navasota, Texas, on a 190-acre family ranch, though they only hunt an open 40-acre hayfield with a little brush around the edges. Their treestand is made from some boards on a tank dam, and it seats three. Lauren calls their stand "The Condo." It is comfortable and lets the whole family - Lauren and her parents Scott and Debbie - share a day of hunting.

On the opening day of Texas' youth season in 2007, Lauren was in the Condo's "shooter's chair" by daybreak. Her parents were there, as well, keeping a lookout for big bucks. If a giant buck came into view, they would quickly estimate its distance.

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