I was 13 and saw the AMM camp at the National Boy Scout Jamboree in More-Rain State Park in PA. It was really cool.
One of the other Scouts got me into CW reenactment, a Confederate artillery battery... through high school. Dad got me a TC Hawken kit... never did much with it though. Then off to college, then the service, without much hunting done.
When I left the service, and became a married man and a cop (and a part time gunshop employee too), and I was looking for something well outside of my job to get rid of stress... when a guy who was selling off his guns came into the gunshop, and in is collection was a very poorly made flinter. The parts were good... his skill was not..., and the shop owner told me I could have the flinter if I wanted it.
So I restocked it into a working rifle... and some coworkers who did 18th century living history found out I had a flintlock longrifle..., and that's how I got back into BP.
The first deer I ever killed was with my 3rd flintlock rifle... now all the deer I have ever taken have been with the same rifle. I learned how to hit human sized targets with a bolt-action rifle in the Marines out to 1000 yards... bolt actions on deer just never interested me... but a flinter in poor weather, that's a challenge.
BESIDES THAT... all you folks who are part of the black powder community returned to me my faith in people. Where I was policing at the time, over a couple of years, all I saw were crappy people doing crappy things to each other. My wife tells me I was going down-hill pretty fast... though it was gradual to me and I didn't realize it. I got back into BP, and complete strangers acted as if I was a longtime friend. Some guy at a local shoot let me, a total stranger, try his $1400 longrifle... he just handed me his bag and rifle and said, "Just bring it back here after you've shot a few rounds". (A $1400 rifle in 1992 was pretty expensive) I was glad he didn't tell me how much it cost as I'd a been too worried about screwing it up. Folks left stuff out in the open, expensive stuff, nobody had anything "walk". Kids played all over the place at the event... no real adult supervision and no need... the way it used to be... the way it ought to be... THEN as I was leaving the event on Sunday, two guys had a really heated argument in the parking-field. They were arguing about which one of them was going to fix a complete stranger's truck for free... the guy who owned the tools, or the guy who was the master mechanic... not an argument about who did what to whom..., not an argument about about who was at fault for soemthing stupid..., but an argument about who was going to be the most helpful to a stranger... they finally figured out to team up and get the stranger's truck fixed faster than if each did it on his own.
When I got home my wife saw I was pretty happy... I didn't even know why, but looking back I now know why. To this day, when I get too cranky, my wife tells me "It's been a while and I think you need to spends some time in the woods... go to an event or something."
So that's why I still participate, and doubt I won't stop until they carry me away feet first..
LD