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  1. So You Want To Rattle and Grunt

    It was a clear and cold December morning in 1987, when a Maryland hunt that I will remember forever took place. It started out like most, get up early and load the truck, but this morning the load was a bit different than usual for me.

    At this time in my live, I was hunting with equipment that most archers were using, the compound bow. Only on this day, my compound bow was at the shop getting a new string, so I picked up my old trusty Bear recurve. It was a very good bow and ...
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  2. The Dream Buck

    The Dream Buck 11-2-2008



    It was an easy shot, 25 or 30 yards away. The doe was broadside and stepped out into the open and looked away. I was fortunate as I did have one arrow left in my quiver, a result of a fall out of the tree that I was sitting in.

    The fall was not far, but unfortunately I had landed on my elk skin plains quiver that did not have any support. All but ...
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  3. Weekends with Pop

    My grandfather aka “Pop” and I would hunt and fish on the weekends from the time I was 14 till I joined the Marines. In the Fall, a bow hunting surf fishing weekend was usually the norm.

    He would pick me up at zero dark thirty on Saturday morning, I would load up my Bear recurve and arrows and we would head for the Dunkin Donuts and the 15 minute light. Once there, we would sit and open our morning snack and feast on what we (he) had purchased. When the light changed, we continued ...
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  4. The Shot Not Taken

    Man I should have taken that shot. Maybe, betcha I would have missed. Man I should have taken that shot.

    Don’t laugh, we all have “The Shot Not Taken” in our hunting histories. Some just choose not to think, re-think, or obsess about them. Here are a few “Shots Not Taken” from mine and a few hunting buddies histories.

    It was a beautiful morning to hunt turkeys on Spooky Mountain. I give the mountain that name because if you ever walk off it at night, you’ll know ...
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  5. Tribute to an Archery Legend

    It all started in Winston Georgia, off I-20 towards Alabama during the first week of bow season 1994. Got in the woods and hung my stand. Typical Frank set up, off a beaten path with the stand only 6 feet off the ground.

    I had only been in the stand for an hour or two and here he came. He was a nice 6pt with long tines. And they were still in velvet, a trophy to be had. He walked within 10 feet of me, arrow nocked, release on the string, he turned his head away from me, perfect ...
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