No amount of adrenaline can staunch the flow of blood from a scope bitten forehead.
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.
The new car smell in that Civic was long gone.
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.
That sixteen point, seven and a half year old sovereign of the Oklahoma hardwoods is wearing a Santa hat at present.