Although I've never hunted with any well known legends, my dad is a legend to me in my own mind.
He took me with him from when I was about six years old, from what I can remember. I remember hunting from the "crotch tree" with him. We didn't have tree stands back then, he stood on some limbs and I sat in the crotch of the tree. A couple of things I remember of the crotch tree: 1. Dad seeing two does heading our way. He told me they would pass by at 12 yards, they did, he missed, we paced it off - 12 yards. I considered him the smartest dad in the world for knowing how close they would come to us. 2. Sitting in the the crotch tree I was bored one day. Had a pack of Denteen gum in my pocket, decided a couple of pieces would be a good idea. Throwing the wrappers on the ground, however, was definitely NOT a good idea, and I sure heard about it.
Other things I learned with "my legend" was walking through the woods. I don't know how many times I was told not to drag my feet, your moving to fast, slow down - what's your rush? Look and listen, you might learn something. Don't slam the damn door (for the 6th time that weak)! Turn your head slow, don't make eye contact. These were all things he seemed to stress to me. Now, at 76 years old, he's slowed down quite a bit. Seems as if sometimes I stress to him what he once stressed to me. Life comes full circle?
One thing has changed over the years, we listened to Charlie Pride on his old eight trak tape player in his old truck, to and from the hunt. I still know all the songs by heart. Only now, we play them on cd.