For the past five years, I’ve been trying to shoot a bull. When I was twelve, my buddy and I tracked down a cow that had been wounded by poachers and put her down with muzzleloaders. I got close two years ago when I had my bow drawn back at a bull standing at thirty yards for over a minute. Sadly, he never presented an ethical shot, and I had to let him go.

I just got in last night from SHOT Show ’26. Fortunately, my flight into Midland made it ahead of this cold spell that is settling in. It’s a good time to play indoors—if you can! The best part about SHOT for me is seeing friends and meeting folks. Many attendees asked about Gun Tales, and I got a lot of compliments on our site. That sure is good to hear and we appreciate all of you for coming along with us!

The countryside was mostly flat as it spread away from a rocky hill known locally as Kudu Mountain, and it was a mixture of acacia, thorn and red dirt. Standing in the shadow of a large acacia, I watched Egyptian gees muddle in a waterhole two football fields long and half as wide. I knew a duiker with magnificent horns lived along the damn, and that warthogs polluted the area, often grunting and wallowing in the goo surrounding one of the few oases this side of the Orange Ri