Mark those look cool and functional and appear to have served you well, and hopefully will continue to be used as intended one way or another. That is dang scary story no matter what the serpent. I don't know what would have been worse you or your wife or the knowledgeable bushman being bitten. You never know when/where lightening will strike so it best to be geared properly for a reason. Just wondering though what type leather is that on the uppers. My boots are same reddish brown bullhide as lower part of your boot. I did know they used different leathers and combinations at one time.

Dean I get your point about the candy ass pretenders that need to tie kerosene rags around their ankles to keep the ants away while wearing their fashionable outdoor gear. But hey that is where the money is and maybe they are dreamers trying to wear in the clothing. I still have a Bean field coat from the 70's that unfortunately out grew. Wanted to replace it with another one a bit larger a long time ago. The new ones are just junk compared to the original. However Bean sells that coat like crazy to the pretenders.

Bill -To salve your wounds, send me anything which will fit me at 6'4, 235.

Also interested in any Chesapeake decoys, and Remington guns

I don't know about that. As long as your alive and kicking hopefully you still need it.

Besides, avarice is like snowball on top of the hills, once it gets going it will become an avalanche.

Bill, I completely noticed your plight! My problem is that I have the same dilemma, although, should I outlast you, I would be happy to be the next “hoarder in line”!

Bill, we were all trying not to appear as gluttonous buzzards circling the soon to be feeding frenzy with raucous shrieking and bickering among us.... In a word, we were trying to be gentlemen. That having been said, please allow me to be first on the pig pile of interested parties. Please give my email address and cell number to the Lovely Linda.





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Same leather, the uppers are original and almost 40 years old! They are just faded and worn. The bottoms were replaced about 15 years ago, when gokey said there wasn’t anything to sew the soles to anymore!

Damn!! I still say Orvis needs a story about those boots.

the older I get the more I love old hunting stuff. Back when I was in high school in the early 60's I was on a deer hunt and riding with an older gentleman in his old International pickup to find some of the lost hounds. My foot kicked something out from under the seat and I reached down picked up an old dog collar with a tarnished brass tag stating " return to Dr. D E Rainey West Point. my grandfather who died in 1949. After assuring me that he would not dare take on granddaddy's fox hounds and he had no idea how it got there. I went home the collar as happy as if I had killed a buck. the collar now atop my grandfather bookcase in my office.

Hey, Bill,

I just saw this thread and your original post was the most poignant of them all, and reminded me of a my similar plight. I guess I like "stuff" too much, but old (time honored?), cherished possessions have important places in our lives. My wife and I have no children, and we have no close relatives that would understand that a fine old shotgun, or a Filson vest with "patina" was more than something to be sold to make money. I personally don't know any young person who knows what a Parker is or what it's "worth" to me in memories. My mother gave me most of my dad's guns before she died. They are nothing special in the sense of rarity or monetary value, but they are priceless to me. So, like you, I'm not sure what I'll do with my possessions. I have told my wife which guns I'd really like to not be sold off to strangers after I die (assuming I go before she), and I'm hoping that I'll find some young person to whom I might leave them with the understand that they'll pass down to those who might best appreciate them. I remember George Bird Evans writing about his friend, Dr. Norris (who left him his "little Purdey"), and a case to illustrate the value of personal possessions where the man in question set fire to everything because he could not stand the idea of his things being in "profane hands."

Having rambled through all this, I am also reminded that with few exceptions, all of my guns belonged to strangers long before I got them. They are mine now, but maybe they will find hands that will hold them as I have and cherish them as I do.

Getting old is not for the faint of heart. There's no manual or road map. I hope you figure out some way to be at peace with your possessions. Let us know if you do, and may you ponder all of this for many years to come.

What Dean said Bill,hopefully you still have some miles left yet !