"...that was a dream I had when I was 15..."

Heck, I had that dream early this morning!!!

Both my mom and dad still shoot squirrels off the birdfeeder with subsonic .22's from their bedroom window. Their backstop is about 30 acres of thick woods.

-Blast

same here..single shot 22..my dads WW2 belt and canteen..
pack of paper matches..and my pride and joy Army pant copys.
OD green with Army pockets--we would call them cargo pockets
now..this was the 50's--i don't recall taking any kind of food
or even a knife..but survival was not the watchword..it was
"playing in the woods"..

lol... well, i grew up in the burbs, so no gun. and no forest. and no lake. and no going off by myself. and no hunting from my front porch. Helmets weren't mandatory, but seat belts were.

on the plus side, my dad was smart enough to start me camping at 6, and I was pretty gung-ho through high school about it. Now, I just wish I had a weekend off to go somewhere!

Really cool thread.
If you are a Blade forums member the Traditional knives subforum frequently has a thread of this nature. That is why I like visiting that subforum.

For me it was a mix of running around in the woods on both a rural and urban scale. I grew up on Long Island back when it was still mostly farms. But in a span of 10 years a lot of subdivision went on.
We would use the random patches of woods and streams as our personal highways to our friends houses and to and from school.

We used these woods for campouts and fort building as well as our own precurser to mountain biking.

One unique thing about our neighborhood was something we called "sumps" these were storm drainage basins that were scattered throughout the neighborhoods to recharge the natural aquifer. These sumps were our personal fishing grounds; they usually had a combination of carp, bluegill/sunfish and LM bass.
Other sumps were mostly empty and we went "spelunking" in the large pipes that ran from the street drains to various sumps. Many sumps were linked together by the pipes.

On LI we had both fresh and salt water fishing, lots of creeks and scattered woods.

Usually we stole an old cookpot from the kitchen along with some strike anywhere matches, our fishing gear and our pocket knives. Mine was usually an SAK. We were not allowed real guns in my house but I usually shot my friends Crossmans and .22LR bolt actions on occaision.

Funny thing is I do not remember carrying a flashlight ever but we were usually supposed to be home when the street lights came on. In summer that could be as late as 10PM!! We had tons of unsupervised fun in those days.

I will bet that a lot of our mutual experiences in the woods as kids helped build a good foundation of skills.

"...single shot 22..."

Speaking of which, mine was also my dads first gun (I still have it), a Winchester Model 02, single shot, about 27 inches overall length, V notched rear sight that is so fine I can no longer see it. I had it for probably three or four years before I was allowed a BB gun. Go figure...

An enjoyable thread. Your collective experiences mirror my own in the mid-50s, with the talk of plinking with the .22, or a BB gun; a pocketknife as constant companion; exploring the woods from early morning 'til sundown (the only requirement being "be home before it gets dark"); toting a barebones version of "gear" and being quite satisfied with it (my "gear addiction" these days is a whole other conversation); all-day fishing at the pond; reading Boy's Life or the latest Hardy Boys book into the wee hours with a flashlight so as to avoid detection after the "lights out" command from my dad.

Coincidentally, my wife and I were having a related discussion recently ... that it seems today's kids don't (aren't allowed to?) have the same experiences, much to their detriment. Seems like most everyone we know with youngsters keep them on a short leash. Couldn't decide if we're out of the loop and not seeing the whole picture, or if it's a sign of the changed world we live in.

Whatever the case, I'm grateful for my own childhood experiences. They seem to have gotten me pointed in the right direction.

After thought: my .22 was a Harrington & Richardson bolt action; as I type, it sits tucked away in a gun case in the closet, looking nearly as good as the day I got it

I used to ride my bicycle out to my cousin's farms and play all day long. No rifles, but lots of fun. I never got into Hardy Boys, but I must have read every Tom Swift book about 20 times.

It sounds like my life as a kid was similar to the rest of you fellows, lots of camping, exploring, guns, knives and unsupervised fun .... I do miss those times (I hope that my kids don't do the same crazy, dangerous stuff I did)!

My children got so tired of their older relatives and I talking about how tough we had it in the "Good Old Days" that my middle daughter wrote a school speech on it titled, "A Kids Life, Past, Present and Future". It was a very funny 5 minute speech and she won when she presented it in the local school competition (proud father moment).

I find that I am able to still have some of that healthy fun by working with our local outdoor youth group, being around my kids and their friends makes me forget about the aches, pains and responsibility of middle age.

Mike

(Spent the day on the snowmobile so I am off to find some Advil, never had this problem when I was a teenager).

Like most of you I grew up with my dad's model 38 aka the "magic 22". A single shot that seemed to hit anything you aimed at. We rode our bikes and played along the Brazos river in central Texas. My dad was the local Scoutmaster and had trained us to be very woods wise. Usually only carrying a scout or Barlow knife, kitchen matches and candy. We usually drank from a spring that dumped into the river. This is also where we kept our fishing gear(willow or cane poles with line, cork and hook). Nothing like cooking fish over a fire at the "hideout" as it was known by only about 35 of the jr. high and high school class.
Thanks for a quick trip down memory lane!
kmat
P.S. Now I am only out on selected weekends when Blast can come out and play. Now...how can I get Ms Merriwether to let Blast come out and play?