Why not slip on the mad scientist’s lab coat and design the Frankenstein’s monster of all whitetails?
That which once was wild within me is increasingly becoming domesticated.
If her daddy owned a half section in the heart of big buck country, I’d have learned to love her.
The sun may be setting on a brilliant hunting career, but as hunters well know, those last few rays of sunlight, those final moments before darkness falls – well, that’s the magic hour.
As I mature, I’m figuring out that the gift of a long box isn’t just the gift of a gun. It’s the gift of anticipation and expectation.
The kind offer from a good friend will never be forgotten.