--Chad Love

It's been a long, strange and litigious trip, but it looks like Phil Bourjaily can finally go dove hunting in Iowa with whatever ammo he wants to use, thanks to an executive order from Iowa governor Terry Branstad

From this story in the Sioux City Journal:
Gov. Terry Branstad fired a shot at his executive-branch agencies by issuing an order Friday rescinding a ban on lead ammunition by dove hunters. Branstad said he would not let them trump actions of elected officials by using “administrative fiat” to set rules that go beyond a law’s intended effect. “We need to make sure that we stop this practice of agencies going beyond what’s been delegated to them and their responsibility,” Branstad said.

by David E. Petzal

If you’d really like to depress yourself some evening, watch “Doomsday Preppers” on the National Geographic Channel. The show details the plans of normal, well adjusted people to cope with the aftermath of fiscal collapse, nuclear holocaust, the eruption of Yellowstone, solar flares, and so on.

The New York Times noted with outrage that many of these people were accumulating guns and ammunition in order to defend their 1,500 pounds of MREs and dried brown rice, but stockpiling guns is fine with me. My concern is that most of them seem pretty inexpert with guns. One prepper was counting on a Ruger Number One single-shot which, despite its many splendid qualities, is not what you’d pick to blast the mob at your door. Another managed to shoot off several fingers during a practice session. Yet a third, a resident of the Oligarchy of Bloomberg, took lessons in knife fighting because he was unable to get a gun, ignoring the fact that everyone in the Oligarchy of Bloomberg who wants a gun has one, or several, and when the pistol-waving mob comes to this fellow’s apartment I don’t think that he and his knife will last long.

by Phil Bourjaily

I have written a lot of how-to turkey stories over the years, but I generally ignore my own advice. Instead my personal approach to hunting boils down to: sleep late, get lucky. This morning I actually woke up at 4:30 a.m., thought about getting out of bed, then decided against it. It’s not that I don’t like getting up in the early morning, it’s that I hate feeling wiped out later in the day when I do.

So I left the house at the crack of 6:30 a.m. As an afterthought, on my way out the door, I grabbed a new mouth call from the box where I store the calls sent to me by manufacturers to try. I had noticed yesterday the ones in my vest were starting to fall apart and thought I should add a new one.

by David E. Petzal

This took place in the 1990s at an airport in one of Canada’s western provinces, and involved a member of that country’s Immigration Service, which is dedicated to making life as hard for American hunters as it possibly can.

I had been invited to this province by a scope manufacturer to hunt whitetail deer, freeze, and see what great stuff they made. By sheer chance, a few weeks previously, Field & Stream had been visited by a minister of Canada’s Department of Tourism who asked the magazine’s help in persuading sportsmen to visit their country, eh? He left a couple of his cards, and I, in a rare stroke of foresight, kept one.

So I got to the Canadian airport and on the entry card, where it asked whether I was there on business or pleasure, I checked off business, because I was, after all, representing the magazine and was the guest of a manufacturer. This was a mistake.