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I was 41 years old the first time I went hunting. I grew up on the central coast of California. Hunting wasn't an integral part of life, nor was it a frequent topic of conversation around the supper table. Other than the occasional, stray comment about killing Bambi, hunting just wasn't on our minds. Don't judge me. When I was allowed to choose where I wanted to live, I ended up in eastern Montana. Not bad for a first choice. When I first expressed curiosity about hunting, the most common...
