Hunting

Deer of the Year

Tensas Parish trophy killed during hunt that almost didn’t happen

December 1, 2011 Darren Digby

Hunters dream of that one defining hunt, when everything comes together and culminates in a wallhanger to make buddies jealous. Greg Krause’s day came on Nov. 13, but he almost passed the opportunity.

“When I stepped out the camp that morning, I was greeted by temperatures in the 60s, a howling wind and, worst of all, a big, bright full moon shining down on the area,” Krause said. “I thought to myself, ‘There’s no way I’m going to see any deer this morning with that big moon out,’ but then again you can’t kill them from the camp!”[…]

Hunting

Upland Odd Fellows

December 1, 2011 John Flores

Nothing short of an enigma, the woodcock is truly an oddity and always causes a hunt to stop. Following just about every successful shot at a fleeing bird, everyone in the party seemingly has to look over and ponder the features of this strange fellow. It’s inevitable and always happens.[…]

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Up and Down

December 1, 2011 Humberto Fontova

The Saints had just squeaked by Atlanta to clinch the wild-card playoff spot, and (not suspecting how Seattle would upset them during the play-off game) we were seriously pumped as we strolled outside onto Doc’s gazebo.[…]

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No Lease, No Problem

December 1, 2011 Chad Adams

As we soak our waders into yet another duck hunting season, many of us have already begun to reap the residuals from the productive ponds on our leases, while others have had ample time to allow their sore shooting shoulders to heal after experiencing the great pleasure of bagging the limits that come along with a guided trip.[…]

Other Hunting

Best gun chokes, shot sizes

December 1, 2011 John Flores

Woodcock hunting is a close-in type of upland bird hunting. Flushes are often directly under foot, particularly when pointing dogs are involved. Therefore, open chokes such as improved cylinder or even skeet are best utilized.[…]

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Back Off

December 1, 2011 Chris Ginn

I’m not sure what it means to hunt anymore.

I used to know, when I snuck through the hardwood ridge between my parent’s house and the Bogue Chitto River with my single-shot 20-gauge shotgun crossing my chest at the ready, listening for shaking tree branches.[…]