Blood Trail
Fully mature, block headed and barrel chested, the buck looked like he belonged on the cover of a magazine. Continue reading Blood Trail
Fully mature, block headed and barrel chested, the buck looked like he belonged on the cover of a magazine. Continue reading Blood Trail
Never has the phrase ‘deer in the headlights’ been more fitting. Except that it applied to me, not the buck. Continue reading Hunter in the Headlights
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. Continue reading The Magic Hour
That sixteen point, seven and a half year old sovereign of the Oklahoma hardwoods is wearing a Santa hat at present. Continue reading Long Live the King
Was rattling a buck in with his own antlers even an ethical tactic to attempt? Continue reading Clear Conscience
Whether our hunt was successful or not, every trip to the deer woods in my youth was wrapped up with a stop at Lee’s Texaco Station in Horntown, Oklahoma. Continue reading Checking In
I began to question whether or not my burdens might finally be too heavy for Mother Nature to bear. Continue reading Bearing Burdens
Early November brought a new buck by my camera. Subway could’ve run a special on the length of his G-2s. Continue reading Fact or Fiction?
He’s definitely aging better than I am, but the truth is, neither one of us is getting any younger. Continue reading Raincheck
Looking like he’d been painted into the wood line, framed in brown oak and matted in green pine, the buck was mature and majestic. Continue reading No Deductions Here