Introducing the Travelling Sportsman Classic Build A Russell classic, the original Traveling Sportsman Chukka was developed for Sporting Classics magazine, who had limited space to pack for their remote international adventures. The goal was to be able to hunt, hike,...
The rustle of fallen white oak leaves littering the ground 30 feet below demanded my immediate attention. There, patches of brown moved. A deer! Heartbeat racing! Breathing? I am not certain I even took a breath. A solid hour before first light and under the cover of...
Forget about deer stands,” he said. “Just boost your woman high up in a live oak late in the afternoon. That way you’ll know she’ll still be there when you come to fetch her home after sunset.” We were on his front porch, out of the wind on a chilly afternoon, easing...
There is probably no subject connected with shooting about which so much nonsense has been written and spoken as the distance at which game can be killed with the rifle. This was bad enough in the days of muzzleloaders. It has become doubly bad in these days of...
This week’s episode of Sporting Classics with Chris Dorsey features an epic hunt for red stag and fallow deer in the stunning mountains of New Zealand. Chris Dorsey returns to the south island to pursue big game with his old friend John Scurr in an adventure...
If only old tree stands could talk, imagine the stories they could tell. Stories about opening days, big bucks, little bucks, deer killed, deer missed. Maybe even stories about what thoughts pass through a hunter’s mind as time goes by sitting in a deer stand. The...
Born in Rutland, Vermont, on October 18, 1867, for the first three-plus decades of his life Charles Alexander Sheldon led a fairly normal upper-class existence. He came from a well-to-do family involved in marble quarrying and spent his formative years with New...
Often, it is my custom to make careful pencil sketches of the characteristic rocks and growth of a locality, and from time to time an adventure is the result of the quiet and waiting. On a remote lake in Maine, two deer were feeding at the water’s edge, and just...
“Yep” sighed old Ez, as he bunched a forkful of chewing and elevated it into the gap in his features, “I’ve seen ’em. An’ I can say that jedgin’ by what I see of ’em they’re tough customers. I hain’t a-hankerin’ to renew my acquaintance with ’em—they’re a trifle too...
It’s midnight when we pull into elk camp, dark and cold with a clear sky. There’s no moon. The only light comes from the huge canopy of stars hanging low over the mountains, reflecting off the frost-covered ground. The stars are so low I feel like reaching...
