The Borrowed Gun

The Borrowed Gun

Our son, Jamie, is 10 years old. Today, after much pleading, he is with me at a cabin on the South Island of New Zealand, a long way from anywhere. There at the head of the valley, the snow looms high overhead, waterfalls cascade off the mountainside and fingers of...

Watch: Chasing Light

Watch: Chasing Light

Wildlife photographer Wyman Meinzer is, more than anything else, a Texan. After years as a hunter, trapper & marksman, this outdoor pioneer traded in his rifle to stare down the barrel of a zoom lens. https://youtu.be/iPQrCMadE1U?si=U5ieYNyakuyPMKHH In this YETI...

A Russian Wolf Hunt

A Russian Wolf Hunt

During the winter of 1882, business complications made it necessary for me to take a journey into a wild and remote part of Russia. The house with which I was connected had had some very unsatisfactory dealings with one of its branches, and thing’s had come to such a...

Back Woods Quail Club

Back Woods Quail Club

It was literally zero degrees when I left Bucks County, PA. The everlasting snow had a thick crust of ice, and this, combined with the deep chill factor, had kept us out of the fields and off the range for weeks. I was antsy and really looking forward to heading to...

Hunting England’s Vampire Deer

Hunting England’s Vampire Deer

“What was that?” I questioned Merwyn Manningham Buller, host for our roe deer hunt near the Castle Corfe, built in the 11th century by William the Conquerer. “Couldn’t have been an apparition or ghost, and I don’t think it was a fox . . .wrong color and too big and...

Socrates Becomes a Hunter

Socrates Becomes a Hunter

A boy's dog named Soc finally proves his worth as a gundog by flushing pheasants for the boy and his uncle. That first spring together evolved into a long, hot summer, seemingly endless for a boy hankering for his first pheasant season. Sweating through chores, I...

Music In the Forest

Music In the Forest

Traveling south on I-20, I cross the Savannah River at Augusta and ease into the Peach State. Determined to slow life’s pace and enjoy this 200-mile trip, I’ve silently vowed to take the backroads. So, I leave the frantic pace of the interstate, lower the passenger...