I grew up hunting. I mean real hunting, with a gun.
Hunting was deeply engrained in family and regional culture where I roamed wild in the foothills of Pennsylvania's Appalachian Mountains, right out the back door. I mostly hunted with my beloved grandfather, who lived next door, and with my older brother before he left home after high school, and sometimes with my dad on a rare Saturday when he didn't need to work. We went out early in the morning, often continuing through lunchtime, and then again late in the day, lingering until dusk.