Fresh, hot biscuits, anyone? It’s hard for me to imagine a meal in any fishing or hunting camp without some of these tender, flaky morsels soaking up melted butter or swabbing a plate clean of that last bit of gravy. There have been days--and this might be one--when I’d kill for a good biscuit.
They just released a new ranking of the fatest states in the country, with the Southern states at the top of the list. There's a reason for that - our food tastes better than everyone elses!
This past summer, a geezer friend of mine was railing at the current generation of hunters who roost in trees like so many spavined turkeys and rarely walk anywhere.
“They haven’t sweated up ridges like you and I have,” he snarled.
Sometimes, you gotta walk uphill, and if you haven’t done much of it, here are some tips from someone who has done a lot it and hated every yard.
These are great pieces of advice. I've backpacked up a lot of hills and it was always better when I started by taking off the extra stuff. Also, it's reasons like this why I think the right boots are more important than any other piece of gear. Most hunting boots today seem built with the ideas of standing still and doing minimal walking in mind. I really think a serious pair of hiking/backpacking boots are better than most "hunting boots" for anything except sitting in a tree-stand in sub-freezing temperatures all day.
History has been made in Tennessee's rich conservation legacy. After a nine-year effort to restore huntable populations of wild elk to the Volunteer State, three hunters successfully harvested the first animals Monday morning on the Upper Cumberland Wildlife Management Area 50 miles north of Knoxville. The last documented elk taken in Tennessee was in 1865. . .
In our town, elementary school ice cream socials are a long-standing institution. You go, get a little cup of ice cream in a hot gym, then get volunteered for things you don’t want to do. I dutifully went for all the years my kids were in grade school and am now thankfully done. Seeing this video, I can’t help but think how much more fun would a “machine gun social” would be.
Long before there was Pritch. And before Salty. There was Flap Jack—a mutt who defined the term mash up. He came by way of a family friend who lived out in the country. The product of a local stray, Flap Jack was loaded with fleas and frightened of a human shadow when we picked him up. My oldest brother, Bob, who was the reason we had gotten the dog, couldn’t get close enough to pet Flap Jack for a week.
My family's had dogs since I was 6 or 7 and they've all been great. But last year, the first one that I would really call "my" dog died. Magnum was a big yellow lab that we picked as a puppy. I think my dad had certain ideas about him being a sober, calm companion to sit at his feet or something. True to his name, Magnum was not at all calm, sober, or anything reserved. He lived every minute of his life to the hilt. So, he became my dog, both because I was the only one who could handle him and because I think he just liked his life better when he was with me. He wouldn't exactly listen to me, but he had my personality and followed me on all kinds of hikes, horseback rides, truck rides, and everywhere. After I got married and moved, he stayed with mom and dad. I'm almost glad that I was not there when he died last spring. Almost. He basically just wore himself out over 12 years of going as hard as he could at everything, and he just kind of fell asleep one night. It was hard enough when my Dad called to tell me. If I'd have actually been there to find him I'm not sure that I'd be done crying even now. I miss that dog more than most people I've ever known.
It's that time of year, when I put the fly fishing mania completely on hold for one week, head off into the San Juan Mountains of southwestern Colorado, set up camp, and hunt for elk.
As you can see from the photo, I put in a lot of serious effort last winter, um, scouting and doing my homework. For the record, the hot tub hunting didn't pan out so well last season, so I'm doubling my efforts in a serious quest to fill the freezer.
Many compliments for your choice of weapon for hunting. I feel like we get far too few stories of hunts using more "primitive" weapons. My preference in firearms season is for my flintlock, and I have tons of respect for anyone who can take big game with a simple stick-and-string.
The sight of a Dall sheep ram is enough to haunt a hunter: It conjures visions of the long, grueling stalks ahead of you. It reminds you of the almost impossible task of escaping the animal's vision. And it taunts you with one of hunting's ultimate trophies. - Steven Rinella
Opponents of a plan to allow some people to shoot deer in Shawnee Mission Park are upping their efforts to prevent the killings. . . [by posting] a billboard in downtown Kansas City, Mo., . . . [that] reads, "Don't let your tax dollars become blood money. . . ."
There was a similar problem at a park in Columbus when I lived there. A large park (several hundred acres) that was completely fenced and surrounded on all sides by freeway and housing developments had started out as a great little isolated habitat. After several years, though, the herd became too large for the habitat to support and there was no way for them to get out. There was a proposal to allow very limited permits to bowhunters to cull the deer. With the outcry of anti's, it never happened (at least not that I know of). Apparently, they were more willing to see them starve to death or spend hundreds of thousands of dollars to try and trap some of them.
So I walked into the local sporting goods store a few weeks ago, not really thinking that I needed a Benelli, but there in the rack was a brand new black M2, marked as used. It was pristine, and the asking price was so low I figured if nothing else I could immediately sell it and make money. Right next to it was a next-to-new Legacy, one of Benelli’s higher grade models, also very – by Benelli standards – reasonably priced.
I asked the kid at the counter about the two guns.
“They’ve been test-fired only. Some guy traded them both yesterday in on a new Mathews bow.”
R.T. Pittman certainly hit the nail on the head. You can get thousands of shots out of 80 worth of arrows. Many places, you can shoot them in your backyard, even if you live in town.
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Why Southern Flour Makes the Best Biscuits18
Fresh, hot biscuits, anyone? It’s hard for me to imagine a meal in any fishing or hunting camp without some of these tender, flaky morsels soaking up melted butter or swabbing a plate clean of that last bit of gravy. There have been days--and this might be one--when I’d kill for a good biscuit.
They just released a new ranking of the fatest states in the country, with the Southern states at the top of the list. There's a reason for that - our food tastes better than everyone elses!
Petzal: How to Sweat Up A Ridge59
This past summer, a geezer friend of mine was railing at the current generation of hunters who roost in trees like so many spavined turkeys and rarely walk anywhere.
“They haven’t sweated up ridges like you and I have,” he snarled.
Sometimes, you gotta walk uphill, and if you haven’t done much of it, here are some tips from someone who has done a lot it and hated every yard.
These are great pieces of advice. I've backpacked up a lot of hills and it was always better when I started by taking off the extra stuff. Also, it's reasons like this why I think the right boots are more important than any other piece of gear. Most hunting boots today seem built with the ideas of standing still and doing minimal walking in mind. I really think a serious pair of hiking/backpacking boots are better than most "hunting boots" for anything except sitting in a tree-stand in sub-freezing temperatures all day.
Is This the New Pope and Young World Record Alaska Moose?40
Wow. I've never had to do basic training, but I have to wonder if there's a better experience to get that young man ready than this hunt.
Four Elk Taken In Tennessee’s First Modern Hunt4
From The Chattanoogan:
History has been made in Tennessee's rich conservation legacy. After a nine-year effort to restore huntable populations of wild elk to the Volunteer State, three hunters successfully harvested the first animals Monday morning on the Upper Cumberland Wildlife Management Area 50 miles north of Knoxville. The last documented elk taken in Tennessee was in 1865. . .
I could not be prouder to be from Tennessee. That's simply wonderful!
Bourjaily: South Carolina “Machine-Gun Social"19
In our town, elementary school ice cream socials are a long-standing institution. You go, get a little cup of ice cream in a hot gym, then get volunteered for things you don’t want to do. I dutifully went for all the years my kids were in grade school and am now thankfully done. Seeing this video, I can’t help but think how much more fun would a “machine gun social” would be.
I had the same thought. Something like a classic service rifle such as an M1 Garand or 1903 would have been really cool.
When Good Dogs Die35
Long before there was Pritch. And before Salty. There was Flap Jack—a mutt who defined the term mash up. He came by way of a family friend who lived out in the country. The product of a local stray, Flap Jack was loaded with fleas and frightened of a human shadow when we picked him up. My oldest brother, Bob, who was the reason we had gotten the dog, couldn’t get close enough to pet Flap Jack for a week.
My family's had dogs since I was 6 or 7 and they've all been great. But last year, the first one that I would really call "my" dog died. Magnum was a big yellow lab that we picked as a puppy. I think my dad had certain ideas about him being a sober, calm companion to sit at his feet or something. True to his name, Magnum was not at all calm, sober, or anything reserved. He lived every minute of his life to the hilt. So, he became my dog, both because I was the only one who could handle him and because I think he just liked his life better when he was with me. He wouldn't exactly listen to me, but he had my personality and followed me on all kinds of hikes, horseback rides, truck rides, and everywhere. After I got married and moved, he stayed with mom and dad. I'm almost glad that I was not there when he died last spring. Almost. He basically just wore himself out over 12 years of going as hard as he could at everything, and he just kind of fell asleep one night. It was hard enough when my Dad called to tell me. If I'd have actually been there to find him I'm not sure that I'd be done crying even now. I miss that dog more than most people I've ever known.
"Fly Fishing" for Elk with a Recurve Bow21
It's that time of year, when I put the fly fishing mania completely on hold for one week, head off into the San Juan Mountains of southwestern Colorado, set up camp, and hunt for elk.
As you can see from the photo, I put in a lot of serious effort last winter, um, scouting and doing my homework. For the record, the hot tub hunting didn't pan out so well last season, so I'm doubling my efforts in a serious quest to fill the freezer.
Many compliments for your choice of weapon for hunting. I feel like we get far too few stories of hunts using more "primitive" weapons. My preference in firearms season is for my flintlock, and I have tons of respect for anyone who can take big game with a simple stick-and-string.
The Ghost of Sheep River: Hunting for a Dall Sheep Ram in Alaska7
The sight of a Dall sheep ram is enough to haunt a hunter: It conjures visions of the long, grueling stalks ahead of you. It reminds you of the almost impossible task of escaping the animal's vision. And it taunts you with one of hunting's ultimate trophies. - Steven Rinella
Un.....freakin......believable.
Anti-Deer-Hunting Billboard Goes Up in Kansas City261
From KCTV 5 News:
Opponents of a plan to allow some people to shoot deer in Shawnee Mission Park are upping their efforts to prevent the killings. . . [by posting] a billboard in downtown Kansas City, Mo., . . . [that] reads, "Don't let your tax dollars become blood money. . . ."
There was a similar problem at a park in Columbus when I lived there. A large park (several hundred acres) that was completely fenced and surrounded on all sides by freeway and housing developments had started out as a great little isolated habitat. After several years, though, the herd became too large for the habitat to support and there was no way for them to get out. There was a proposal to allow very limited permits to bowhunters to cull the deer. With the outcry of anti's, it never happened (at least not that I know of). Apparently, they were more willing to see them starve to death or spend hundreds of thousands of dollars to try and trap some of them.
Bourjaily: Two Shotguns Equal One Bow?101
So I walked into the local sporting goods store a few weeks ago, not really thinking that I needed a Benelli, but there in the rack was a brand new black M2, marked as used. It was pristine, and the asking price was so low I figured if nothing else I could immediately sell it and make money. Right next to it was a next-to-new Legacy, one of Benelli’s higher grade models, also very – by Benelli standards – reasonably priced.
I asked the kid at the counter about the two guns.
“They’ve been test-fired only. Some guy traded them both yesterday in on a new Mathews bow.”
R.T. Pittman certainly hit the nail on the head. You can get thousands of shots out of 80 worth of arrows. Many places, you can shoot them in your backyard, even if you live in town.
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