hunt

Dog Training Tips from Master Outdoorsman Jerome B. Robinson

fieldandstream-editor — Thu, 27 Jul 2006 11:20:00 -0400

Slide Show: This Week's Tips from Jerome B. Robinson

fieldandstream-editor — Sat, 20 May 2006 07:00:00 -0400

Slide Show: This Week's Tips from Jerome B. Robinson

fieldandstream-editor — Tue, 16 May 2006 07:00:00 -0400

This Man Can Hunt

fieldandstream-editor — Wed, 08 Mar 2006 04:10:00 -0500

At 3 a.m. the grandfather clock peals, each baritone chime ringing hollow and pensive. From my place on the couch, the living room feels spare even in the dark-no ottomans, no coffee tables, no rugs. There are footsteps, and the click of a dog's nails on the floor. Under a door, a seam of light flashes yellow-white, glinting in the glass eyes of four mounted deer heads on the wall. The door swings open.

"Come on in," Julie Bolender says softly. She is barefoot, in sweatpants and a T-shirt. "He's just waking up."

George Bolender is in bed, on his back, right arm crooked over his eyes to shield them from the light. Julie smiles wanly. She unhooks an overnight urine bag and pulls back Bolender's covers. First, the blue jeans. She lifts his right foot, threads the pants leg on. Now the left. She bends his knees and struggles to get the pants over his calves, his thighs. Bolender exhales. It is not easy on anyone.

Next, the morning exercises. Julie works each of Bolender's knee joints back and forth. She stretches the quadriceps, then the hamstrings. Bolender winces. "Spasms, not pain," he explains, through clenched teeth. "Not really." Attie, a young chocolate Lab, pads over to Bolender's bed, begging for attention. He drapes an arm over the edge of the mattress and rubs the dog's ears with the bone nub at the base of his wrist. Nearby, gray-muzzled Sam never cracks an eye. He is used to this.

Julie bends over her husband, hooks an arm under his shoulder, and lifts Bolender's torso off the bed. Now she can tug the thermal tops down. She pulls on superinsulated coveralls. Right leg, then left. Julie is efficient. Each movement is fluid. It is a routine as familiar as dressing herself. Next the boots. Then insulated overboots. Quadriplegics have a diminished ability to thermoregulate, and Bolender has to bundle up in anything below 50 degrees.

It is 3:50 A.M. by the time Bolender is in the wheelchair and Julie cinches the boot straps around the frame to hold his feet steady when he pitches and rolls over rough spots in the trail. Finally it's time to go hunting.

George Bolender is 46 years old, slender and quick to smile and sporting a recently grown goatee. He is thoughtful and friendly and chatty. After all, he says, one thing he has is plenty of time. [NEXT "Page 2"]

Since a horrific vehicle accident in June 1991, Bolender has been a quadriplegic. He still has control of his biceps, but not his triceps. "I can move my shoulders, but I don't have any hands. Below the nipples, I got nothing." Except for pain. At times, his legs and butt will throb with terrific pain. "Of course, you could hit my toes with a hammer," he says, "and I wouldn't feel a thing. It's weird. But that's all a part of it."

The phantom pain, the severely restricted mobility, the constant chills, the odd looks from strangers, the altered relationships, the lost friendships-they are all a part of Bolender's day-to-day life in Ontario, New York, just east of Rochester. But astonishingly, so, too, are long days in the woods. Close shots at black bears. Wild turkeys feeding inside bow range. And whitetail deer on the wall that would turn most walking hunters green with envy.

Hunting with intricately modified bows and guns, Bolender takes three to four deer a season. It's enough to provide venison for his family, a few landowners who give him access to their woods, and a local needy family. He hunts two, three, sometimes four days a week. He does it through force of will and a network of supporters that brings tears to his eyes to contemplate. Julie, one of his sons, or a hunting buddy drops him off in the deer woods. Once at his stand site, he backs the electric wheelchair up against a tree or into a blind built with a backdrop of brush. His companion cocks his bow or racks a shell into the gun chamber, and then leaves. Alone, Bolender hunts. F food. For solitude. For a connection to the wild that he refuses to sever.

"Oh, yeah. Let me tell you about that one." Bolender is a good talker, a good storyteller. He rests his chin on his forearm, draped across the top of a kitchen chair. It's early afternoon, and we've both been up since that clock tolled in the middle of the night.

"That one" is a deer anyone would want to talk about. He was in Ohio, hunting a few days of last year's gun season. The day dawned windy. Does and fawns meandered by, then, at midmorning, a nice 8-pointer came through a ravine at 50 yards. To hunt with his Ruger Red Hawk .44 magnum, Bolender utilizes a homemade pistol mount crafted with a pair of car struts to handle recoil. To adjust for elevation, he bumps on and off an electric screwdriver whose gears drive the gun mount up and down. To fire the gun, Bolender sips on a mouth tube, which completes an electrical circuit that involves a solenoid attached to a car-trunk lifter that in turn pulls on a wire wrapped around the pistol trigger. Before he could get on target, the buck heard the whining screwdriver and took off.

"There's not a thing I can do about that noise," Bolender says with a shrug, "except keep hunting."

Which he did. Seven hours later a "very big deer" started working his way up the ravine, disappeared, and then popped out of the brush. "What a beautiful sight!" Bolender exclaims. "Eighty yards, quartering away. I put the scope on his shoulder and sipped off a shot." Nothing happened.

Bolender figured the solenoid was balking. "You know, they're not really made for this kind of thing," he says. "So I tried to free up the solenoid. I beat the crap out of it with my wrists. Two more shots, and nothing. That's when the geese showed up. They were heaven-sent." With light falling, a flock of geese flew low over the trees. Their honks gave Bolender the cover he needed to "make all the noise I wanted. I uncocked the gun, pounded on the back of the solenoid as hard as I could-which isn't all that hard, of course-worked it back in the mount with my wrists, got the scope back on the deer, and sipped on the straw. All I saw then was muzzle flash. I heard him crash into the thicket. I laid my head back in the chair and almost began hyperventilating. I still remember my big puffy breaths making clouds in the cold air." The buck sported 14 points, with double brow tines, 5-inch antler bases, "and kicker points all over the place."

It was his biggest deer to date. Which is saying something. As does the George Bolender story in general. [NEXT "Page 3"]

"Unrestrained passenger," Bolender intones. "That's the term they use. Throw the keys to somebody else, thinking they're a little less drunk than you are. It's a bad idea."

It was the tail end of a long night of barhopping. His buddy was driving his pickup when they ran off the road. The next few seconds are still a blur, filled in through police reports and a fragmented memory. "We ran the length of a ditch. Went through some mailboxes. Overcorrected and went to the other side of the road." The impact of the ditch threw Bolender's friend through the rear glass, relatively unscathed. "But I'm still in the truck. Next we hit a telephone pole. Then a culvert pipe, and that's when the truck did an endo with a little flip-twist, went 50 feet through the air, and came down on the roof."

The telephone pole had bashed in the roof, and when the truck came to a rest, upside down, Bolender's head and shoulders were nestled in the indentation, between the truck top and the ditch. The rest of his body was still inside the vehicle. "I was folded in half. The only thing I really remember is waking up when they were drilling my head out. When I came to, it was three days later." Bolender's neck was broken between the fifth and sixth cervical vertebrae.

After three months in the hospital, Bolender entered a rehabilitation center in Scranton, Pennsylvania, for six weeks of additional therapy. The sessions were difficult; the life they were designed to prepare him for, painful to consider. After the workouts, he rolled his wheelchair along a bank of large windows that overlooked the clinic lawn. Late each afternoon, deer would step out of the woods to feed. Hunting had been his lifelong passion, ever since he'd hunted pheasants as a child, with a cocker spaniel tied to his belt.

"So many times, I went from window to window to watch the deer." He is quiet for a moment. "I'd tell myself: It's never going to happen, George. Forget about it. It's just never going to happen." He would roll back to his room and weep.

But George Bolender wasn't out of the hunting game. Still in rehab, he heard about programs for disabled hunters. Organizations such as Buckmasters Ltd. and the NRA's Disabled Shooting Services department help support a nationwide network of clubs, organized hunts, financial-aid options, and consulting services for disabled hunters and shooters. Just a few weeks after his return home, Julie drove Bolender to Syracuse, New York, where a man built adaptive bow rigs for severely handicapped hunters. Within 15 minutes of trying out a bow, Bolender was sending arrows into a bull's-eye.

"I kept looking around at Julie, like, I just can't believe this," he says. "A light went off for me. I could see a world of possibility that I thought had been shut off forever."

He'd lost his job as a contractor and faced daunting bills and an uncertain future, but he sold a few guns to pay for a $750 PSE bow and rig. His brother-in-law, Russell Zaft, a welder, upgraded the bow with camber adjustments and an elevation screw. (Zaft has since built all of Bolender's hunting rigs.) In November 1993, Bolender killed his first deer "from the chair," he says, a small buck he took with a 20-gauge shotgun. He'd missed but two deer seasons and has not missed one since. To date, he has taken upwards of 35 deer with both bow and gun, plus a 6-foot 7-inch Newfoundland black bear arrowed from a ground blind at 14 paces. [NEXT "Page 4"]

As an archer, Bolender has handicaps far beyond his lack of mobility. While he is exempt from that most critical aspect of felling a deer with an arrow-drawing the bow while an animal is in range-it's a minor concession.

Bolender's 70-pound-draw-weight Oneida compound bow is mounted permanently to a universal joint, which is in turn mounted to a system of metal bars and plates that fit securely into the armrest mounts on his wheelchair. A 33-inch-long metal rod is welded to the bow holder at a 90-degree angle. On the end are a standard mechanical release and a small bite plate. With the bow drawn and locked into the release, Bolender aims with his mouth. As he moves his head, the bite plate, metal rod, bowhabilitation center in Scranton, Pennsylvania, for six weeks of additional therapy. The sessions were difficult; the life they were designed to prepare him for, painful to consider. After the workouts, he rolled his wheelchair along a bank of large windows that overlooked the clinic lawn. Late each afternoon, deer would step out of the woods to feed. Hunting had been his lifelong passion, ever since he'd hunted pheasants as a child, with a cocker spaniel tied to his belt.

"I kept looking around at Julie, like, I just can't believe this," he says. "A light went off for me. I could see a world of possibility that I thought had been shut off forever."

Cover Story: The Gun Nut Survey

fieldandstream-editor — Mon, 27 Feb 2006 04:15:00 -0500

In the 12 days it was out there, we got over 2,000 responses to our Gun Nut Survey. Some of the results were flat startling. We learned that Remington rules the roost as far as popularity goes, that the highest-ranked handgun was designed before the First World War, and that our No. 1 big-game and deer cartridge is even older. But this nod to tradition aside, we found that most of you do not yearn for the good old days. You think modern guns are better, and you are perfectly happy to break with tradition if it results in a better firearm. We also learned that firearms hunters won't cross certain technological barriers if it means violating their code of ethics.

The best part of the survey may be your comments. We've published as many of them as we could.

Click here to read the rest of the story on David E. Petzal's new blog, The Gun Nut

Getting Into Coyotes

fieldandstream-editor — Sat, 25 Feb 2006 04:05:00 -0500

Fool one of these superwary predators and you earn the rank of expert hunter. Here's how to do it:

Focus on areas that hold small game, birds, mice, and vermin. CRP fields, brushy creek- or riverbottoms, swamps and marshes, and young clear-cuts are all excellent choices. Most farmers will gladly give you permission to hunt. Pinpoint your spots by looking for tracks and listening for barks, yips, and howls at dawn and dusk. The ideal conditions for a hunt are cold, calm days. Windy days are the worst.

Stealth is the first priority: no slamming vehicle doors or talking to your partner. Settle into a comfortable shooting position on a knoll or field edge that offers good visibility, and wait five to 15 minutes before calling.

Coyotes have extremely keen eyesight and, like any animal coming to a call, are looking hard for its source. Make sure your camo is good and that your hands and face are covered. A cushion to sit on helps you keep still.

If no coyotes come to your calls, sneak back out and drive to another area at least a half mile away, and repeat the process. You should be able to cover eight to 10 good spots in a day of hunting.

The Ideal Coyote Setup:
Wind is key, but other factors can help put the odds in your favor. Click the picture below for to enlarge and see directions.

The Gear
You don't need much to start, and you may already have it

Calls Mouth-operated rabbit squealers are a must, but don't rely on them alone. Also use other distress calls and coyote howlers.

Decoys These act as a closer to your calls. One of your kid's beat-up stuffed animals can suffice, though battery-run motion dekes work best.

Guns Flat-shooting rifles in .223 caliber work best in open terrain, but your deer rifle will do the trick. Shotguns rule in thick timber or on night hunts (where legal). If you hunt turkeys, you probably already own the right setup: a tight-choked 12-gauge that throws a dense pattern out to 35 yards. Use No. 4 buckshot in magnum loads.

Web Exclusive: Caring for Your Kill
Coyotes sport beautiful coats that can be tanned and used as rugs, sewn into clothing (I'm still searching for the perfect pelt to make a mountain man hat), preserved as a taxidermy mount, or sold to a fur buyer. For a rug or mount, it's best to take your coyote whole to the taxidermist. If you plan to sell your hide or make some kind of simple clothing from it, here's how to skin the animal yourself:

Directions:
Get to the task as soon as possible. Don't let the animal freeze, and bring it to a warm basement or shed to keep the hide flexible and supple.

Tie a section of rope around one of the coyote's hind legs, just above the paw. Then tie the other end around a nail, peg, or beam on the ceiling so the animal is hanging upside down with the tail at about eye level.
With the belly of the coyote facing you, make a slit in the hide at the base of the tail and continue up the inside of the leg that's tied, stopping at the rope. Cut the hide all the way around the leg at this point (it's not important to leave the back feet attached if you're going to sell the hide) and skin this hindquarter. Return to your original cut and repeat the procedure on the opposite leg.
Make a 3" to 4" cut through the hide on the underside of the tail (just above the anus) extending toward the tail's tip. Peel the skin back on each side of this cut until you can run a finger (under the skin) completely around the tailbone. Grab the base and with some steady pulling, you should be able to peel the tailbone awayy from the hide surrounding it.
Make a circular cut around the anus to free the hide where it attaches there. At this point, you've freed the hide from the hind legs and tail. Continue to pull the skin off the animal down to the shoulders, as if you were removing a shirt. When you reach the legs, peel the hide down until you reach the "ankle" joint just above the paw. Cut the legs off at this ankle joint, leaving the paws attached to the pelt.
Continue working the hide down over the animal's body until you free it. You'll need some extra patience around the ears, face, and mouth. Coyotes have thin skin and are very lean, which means careful skinning is required to avoid tearing the hide. The first dog you skin will seem tricky, but the process speeds up with practice!

Exclusive Interview: H. Dale Hall, Director, U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service.

fieldandstream-editor — Wed, 22 Feb 2006 04:05:00 -0500

F&S:Should hunters be expecting more or less access to public land?
Hall: One of my concerns is the future of hunting and the ability to recruit young hunters. With the cost of leases going up, public lands become extremely important, and we need to do everything possible to open up all opportunities for hunting so that we can make sure that it's not an elite sport 50 years from now.

F&S: On that topic of hunter recruitment, what can be done at the federal level?
Hall: Our role is to work with the major hunting and fishing organizations, and arms, ammunition, and fishing tackle manufacturers, and also with the state game and fish agencies. It's critical to reach the next generation and have them understand the aspects of hunting that go beyond shooting a gun. To a lot of people, the outdoors is a cathedral; it's their place to commune. Hunting is just one avenue for that to happen, but it's one that we can't afford to lose. If we get young people interested in hunting, then we can preserve more natural habitat in the United States.

F&S: As you assumed the directorship, what was No. 1 on your agenda?
Hall: I have priority issues in each of our programs. For example, in fisheries, the National Fisheries Habitat Initiative is super important to us. In endangered species, finding some clarity and consistency in how we approach the law and getting some better definitions. In refuges, getting some better guidance out on our policies to make sure that we give every opportunity to hunters and fishermen.

But the most important thing that I'll want to do is to strengthen our roots in conservation. The Fish and Wildlife Service for over 130 years has been a conservation organization. And I really appreciate the hunters and fishermen of the United States as being staunch conservationists. We are where we are today because of them. They're the only group I've known to ask to be taxed so that they can contribute to natural resources. They started off asking for the duck stamp, then they asked for sport fish and wildlife restoration programs that now generate up to $700 million a year.

F&S: What's a typical hunting season like for you?
Hall: Well, it fluctuates, but let's go through the fall of '04. I started off dove season in Arizona having those little birds embarrass me. Then I had a wonderful duck hunting trip in Oklahoma. My favorite way to hunt ducks is to wade out about waist-deep and behind a tree, put the decoys out there. After that I went quail hunting in New Mexico. Actually right before that I killed a 274-pound wild boar. The last thing was an elk hunt. Now, I scheduled three turkey hunts in there that got cancelled because of business. But this past September, I killed an oryx down on the White Sands Missile Range. Then in October I went pheasant hunting in South Dakota.

F&S: Not a bad year. What do you enjoy the most?
Hall: I just love duck hunting in bottomland hardwoods.

F&S: Anyone you'd like to hunt or fish with?
Hall: Chuck Yeager. He epitomizes for me the roll-up-your-sleeves-and-earn-your-way-through attitude.

The Interview Outtakes
When we spoke with Dale Hall a few months after he'd been named head of the USFWS, we couldn't fit all of his comments into our March 2006 issue. Here's the balance of that interview.

F&S: What do you think the Federal Government's role should be in the containment of CWD?
Hall: Well, we've been fairly involved with the International Associaation of Fish and Wildlife Agencies, which is the representative group of all the state game and fish agencies. Since the deer, elk, and other animals that tend to be impacted by CWD are really state species, our role is to support each state in any way that we can. How they'd like us to work with them varies from state to state, but we're there to assist them in managing issues within the states that are under their jurisdiction.

F&S: How high is the issue of exploding wolf populations on the USFWS' priority list?
Hall: It's very high on our list. We were extremely disappointed with the Oregon decision where we were moving to down-list and de-list certain populations of the gray wolf, and turn it over to the management of the state where it should be when populations are healthy. That court case stopped all of that, which means that we have to continue to work even harder with the states in the interim to reach a solution.

Finding the proper balance between predator-prey relationships is really important. When you've had a species in the environment that for a long time didn't have one of its predators, then we reintroduce that predator, there has to be a new equilibrium that is reached between predator and prey. If we can't manage and control the predator populations, the prey populations are the first to suffer. So we're very concerned about that, and we're working in every way that we can with the states to get that under control.

F&S:On a related issue, do you see wolves and grizzly bears coming off the endangered species list?
Hall: Well, for the grizzly bear we have proposed a re-classification to make Yellowstone a distinct population segment and to propose its de-listing. And to me, that sends a very positive message that by working in cooperation with all of the groups that were involved in the Yellowstone experience, we can reach a point in the future where we can take the bear completely off the list. I'm optimistic that we can do that. And I'm optimistic about the wolf for the same reasons.

F&S: Growing up hunting and fishing in Kentucky, did you always set out to make a career out of your love of the outdoors?
Hall: You know, no I didn't. After I got out of the air force and went back to college, I was actually pre-dental-I was going to be a dentist. And along the way I took a fisheries course, and realized that that's what I really wanted to do, and I shifted. And I think that it was my background and foundation in the rural environment I grew up in that subliminally told me that that's what I would be happy doing, and it wasn't wrong. I've absolutely enjoyed my entire career.

F&S: Are your kids growing up into outdoorsmen?
Hall: Oh yes, they're pretty outdoorsy. I have 2 daughters and a son. My son probably is-it's kind of hard for me to accept-but he might be more fanatical about hunting and fishing than I am. My daughters enjoy going outdoors, they enjoy fishing, they haven't grasped hunting so much, but they appreciate hunting. And they sure like to eat the game.

Great Snapshots

fieldandstream-editor — Wed, 08 Feb 2006 04:15:00 -0500

People are always sending us fantastic photographs of themselves with the fish they have caught or the animals they have harvested. But we don't always have the space to run them in our magazine. That's why we're publishing some of the best here, on fieldandstream.com. Hope you enjoy the following gallery, and keep sending photos to fsletters@time4.com.

Click here to view the photo gallery

Wall-Hanger Guides

fieldandstream-editor — Sun, 05 Feb 2006 04:05:00 -0500

Some of the trophies I remember best from hunting and fishing trips are not game or fish but the men who guided me. I can think of several whom I'd like to have stuffed and hung on the wall.

Right over the fireplace I'd hang Billbob, the Wyoming "cowboy" mule deer guide. He looked like the Marlboro man-tall, lanky, handlebar mustache, and a swagger. But in truth he was neither a cowboy nor an experienced guide; he was a hairdresser. He gave ladies permanents in his mother's little cowtown salon.

When he saw the lightweight tents we'd packed, Billbob kicked the dirt and declared, "We needa get us a ruggeder outfit than that." He roared off in his pickup, then reappeared an hour later with his lights off, towing a 30-foot trailer. After he rammed the trailer back into thick brush I noticed the placard by the door: PROPERTY OF WYOMING HIGHWAY DEPARTMENT.

Billbob spat and proclaimed, "I helped buy that trailer, and I'm claiming my share of it this week." Billbob slept dry in the trailer each night while the rest of us (East Coast sissies who eschewed stolen property) shivered in wet tents and worried that the sheriff would show up. We all got nice bucks on that trip, but we rarely talk about them. Billbob the hard-bitten, hairdressing cowboy and his "borrowed" highway department trailer was the best trophy of that trip.

Then there was Marcel, the luxury-minded Canadian moose hunting guide. He was so excited about the prospect of being featured in a magazine story that he got knee-walking drunk before we arrived, causing us to delay our departure for a day. Then, upon inspecting our canoes, he complained that there was no room for his gear. "When I go in the woods, I go comfortable," he declared, pointing to an immense pile of duffel which included the mattress, blankets, and pillows off his double bed at home, a sack of potatoes, and 24 loaves of bread. Marcel's insistence that he would not travel with less forced us to hire a motorboat for the guide and all his stuff. This subverted the very premise of our trip, which had been to paddle canoes deep into the wilderness where motorboats couldn't go.

We saw one moose-a distant bull that was coming to our calls when he was cut off and slain by hunters patrolling the lakeshore in a motorboat. Our only trophy from that trip is the recollection of Marcel reclining on his mattress amongst his pillows, eating bread and potatoes.

Right next to Marcel, I'd hang Jack, a Kansas duck hunting guide who could really talk mallard and knew where to find rafts of fat, corn-fed ducks. What he wasn't so good at was boat safety.

It was a long ride to reach his hunting spot, but Jack had a big boat that got us there in time for a good shoot. Trouble was, Jack sheared a pin as we were picking up the decoys, and he had neither a spare nor a paddle. Using a piece of the broken pin, Jack managed to jam the motor in gear, but it stuck in reverse.

"If I shift gears, that little piece of pin is going to fall out," Jack announced. "We've got to go home backwards."

With the motor stuck in reverse, Jack backed the boat slowly all the way up the lake, with each wave slopping over the transom into the cockpit, where we took turns bailing. When we got to the dock, a pair of smug hunters stood laughing at us.

"Don't say nothing," Jack hissed. "Just make sure they see the ducks." And then he loaded the boat on the trailer stern first, hoping to make the hunters think he knew something they didn't.

But my favorite trophy guide was Adamie, the Inuit guide who tried too hard to make us happy. "You want to fish in the river or the bay?" Adamie asked through an interpreter at the beginning of the trip.

"Wherever you catch the most fish," I said.

"We catch most in the bay," the interpreter translated.

So, all that day we fished along the shores of Hudson Bay but caught nothing. Not one single bite.

"Why are we catching noo fish?" I asked.

"Because the fish are in the river," Adamie answered.

"You said you catch most in the bay," I argued.

"We catch the most fish in the bay in winter," Adamie explained with a grin. "In summer the fish go up the river, but we can't catch as many there."

I was learning. I said, "Let's go where we'll catch the most fish today."

All smiles, Adamie took us many miles up river for the rest of the week. We caught loads of big Arctic char, huge lake trout, and 5-pound brook trout.

"You like this better than the bay?" Adamie inquired as he unhooked another 10-pound char.

"Much better," I said.

"Good," Adamie exclaimed. "I just want to make you guys happy."

My collection wouldn't be complete without another trophy guide from the North Country, Sam Fast Rabbit. Sam was a tough old Indian, but his lips were deeply cracked by the constant tundra wind and he had no lip balm, so each morning Sam wiped great gouts of his wife's scarlet lipstick across his mouth. When it rained, the lipstick dissolved and ran all over his chin. He was frightening to see. Sam was a colorful trophy, but where would I hang a mount that looked like that?

New Guns: Six Huntable Handguns for 2006

fieldandstream-editor — Fri, 03 Feb 2006 04:20:00 -0500

Browning BM Lite Splash

Quality .22 LR handguns are eagerly snapped up by shooters interested in accurate performance. Browning is introducing three new models of its popular Buck Mark semi-auto this year. The Buck Mark Lite Splash features a new Ultragrip RX ambidextrous grip design and 5.5- and 7.25-inch alloy-sleeved barrels.

Browning BM Bullseye Target & BM Contour

The Bullseye Target has a heavy stainless-steel fluted barrel. The Contour features the new Ultragrip design and special-contour barrel.

Freedom Arms Model 83

As one of the premier single-action revolvers on the market, the Model 83 remains in great demand. This year it will be chambered for the .500 Wyoming Express, a straight-walled .50-caliber cartridge designed for 350- to 440-grain bullets.

Ruger Blackhawk

The 50th Anniversary .44 Magnum New Model Black-hawk captures the appearance of the original 1956 model. New features include a transfer bar and loading gate mechanism and a patented reverse-indexing pawl.

Weatherby Mark V CFP

Based on the Mark V bolt-action, the new Mark V Compact Firing Platform (CFP) should appeal to varmint and big-game hunters. The CFP features a 16-inch chrome-moly, target-crowned, button-rifled, No. 2 contour barrel. The action is pillar-bedded into a Fibermark composite stock. The 27.5-inch, 5.25-pound CFP is drilled and tapped for optics.

Ruger New Vaquero

The New Vaquero's Old West look and modern mechanics made it an instant hit with single-action revolver fans. This year Ruger is going to let folks really dress up the Vaquero. The Ruger Studio of Art & Decoration will be offering engraved Vaqueros as standard items in 2006. These handguns are cut engraved (not plated or etched), with extensive patterning on the cylinder, frame, barrel and grip. They can be ordered singly or as a consecutively numbered pair (for an extra charge).