It seems common these days that folks often name deer. I’m not talking about pets, although some wild deer become so predictable and accustomed to hunter activity that they appear somewhat domesticated, even on huge ranches. We feed a lot of corn on the ranch I hunt. It helps the wild game; deer, javelinas, quail, various birds, and so on, by providing a little extra nourishment and it helps the hunter to see animals that would otherwise go unnoticed in the masses of mesquite

It seems that time can be a tricky thing to master. I very specifically remember that when I was a kid, time was stubborn and had little to no interest in passing. It didn't seem to matter if I was waiting for the morning to arrive, or waiting for the summer school break. Time could not be rushed, and no amount of begging could convince it.

I’d found a cozy little place on a Texas hillside. Sitting with my back against a cedar, with an agarita bush in front of me to break up my silhouette. I hadn’t been there all that long when a nice eight-point buck came out of the brush to get a drink at the stock tank that was about thirty-five to forty yards in front of me.

In the past few days, we’ve seen that the 44 Remington Magnum has been around for seven decades. That fact alone tells us how important this fine cartridge is to the handgunning world. The sheer power of the 44 Magnum is one reason; another is its versatility. Nostalgia plays a role too. Cinema detective Harry Callahan once labeled it as the most powerful handgun in the world, and it was at that time.

Anyone even slightly aware of what’s in my books and magazine articles on African hunting knows I quite often cite Robert Ruark. In fact, if Mr. Ruark was still alive, I’d probably fall under the moniker of ‘fanboy’…or stalker. I won’t apologize for my near obsession with his output.

If you play the handgunning game long enough, sooner or later you are bound to delve into the realm of the powerful big bore revolver. For many it’s a gun that is worked up to over time. Some shooters will go a lifetime shooting the “normal” cartridges, and that’s fine.

Sometimes the wind blows like hell there. It blows the hardest when it comes from the west, across Devil’s Hole and the top of the South Branch Mountain, and then down the steep eastern slope into the bowels of Pot Lick Cove.

It’s no secret that my Huntress loves big bull elk. Her first bull fell to my 7mm Remington Magnum several years ago on a private ranch near Angel Fire, New Mexico. That was a great hunt, and the bulls were bugling and herding cows in a chaotic melee of swarming elk numbering over eighty in one bunch.

Some years ago, Ed Martin, cow boss for the Shannon Estate Ranches, and I were taking a bit of a noon rest in the ranch’s Elk Horn pasture. My attention was drawn to a pretty good sized rock over on the side of a hill, about 175 to 200 yards away. Naturally, that got me to thinking about long-range shooting with a handgun.

I have some scoped handguns chambered in rifle cartridges that are occasionally hauled to the field, and I suspect any notoriety I might have in the writing world, albeit minor, is associated with revolvers. I don’t mind this, as it is largely true that I do like and use them. However, in my beating heart rests a soft spot for fine rifles of blued steel and figured walnut, as well as a deep interest for the iconic lever action rifle. One of my all-time favorite rifles is the

The mornings are turning cooler out here in the Big Bend country. This time of year, everything starts to take on a golden hue as we slowly edge our way into fall. The fluttering green leaves of the cottonwood trees will soon transform to brilliant gold before they are scattered by the wild west Texas winds as the northers blow in. The mule deer bucks will shed the velvet covering of their forked antlers and the elk and aoudad hunting are currently in full swing. Ah yes, it’s

I have little doubt most readers of this post have heard of Charlie Pirtle. He was well known in the revolver competition communities of days gone by, and a winner of who knows how many shooting awards during his time on the U.S. Border Patrol Pistol Team. One of the best man trackers I have had the fortune of ever being around, well known lawman, outstanding Dutch oven cook, dedicated hunter, outdoorsman and true gentleman. In short, Charlie was one of the most influential f

The ranch was alive.  A symphony of coyotes yipping and howling greeted us.  Just prior to first light the trees across from a field we were near erupted in the gobbles of numerous turkeys descending from their roosts.  Things looked promising.  By sunrise, Melanie was calling and she was getting lots of responses.  Melanie says that her two absolute favorite things to hunt are turkey and elk because you have to “talk” and interact with both of them. It was incredibly excitin

“There wasn’t no place I couldn’t go with a 22 rifle and a fishing pole.” Y’all remember that old Don Williams tune? I suspect we all look back on our younger years and remember them as a better time. Whether they always were or not doesn’t matter if we choose to remember the best of times. For most of us our youth was certainly less complicated by electronics. No cell phones.

The working gun is many different things to many different people. But amidst the sea of usin’ guns, there are a few constants that I believe all should adhere to. Reliability, accuracy, and sufficient power for the intended task. Now, before we jump in with both feet, I’ll have you know, dear reader, I am not in law enforcement nor private security and have no background in any such profession. I am a ranch cowboy. But, I am an enthusiast with a genuine need for a solid side

The title of the 1960s Outdoor Life magazine article was “The Art of Brush Hunting” written by John Wootters.  I started reading and quickly realized it was written about hunting near Sheridan, Texas, a small community twenty-five miles south of where I lived and where I hunted. I committed to memory everything Wootters wrote in that article. I was truly impressed that a writer, obviously from “my part of Texas” had an article in Outdoor Life and was writing about the hunting

Of course, they are also at home in the great state of Texas. Scaled quail dispersion in Texas shows them ranging from the panhandle down into the Big Bend country and following the Rio Grande. From there they seep deep into Old Mexico.

The pronghorn is America’s colloquial antelope. He’s known far and wide as the fastest land animal in the Western Hemisphere. They say he can run at speeds up to 60 MPH, reaching velocities that only a cheetah could surpass. This trait has earned them the name “speed goat.”

It’s funny how we associate certain smells or things with memories and people. Having spent a lot of time around my mother’s parents as a child growing up, it’s not surprising I have plenty of fond recollections of them. My granddad and I had a special bond, and we grandkids all called him Pawpaw.

In the late 1800s, John M. Browning was on a roll. He designed the robust 1886 Winchester that was chambered for big-bore cartridges. Then, in 1892, he brought out a scaled down version that would handle various popular handgun cartridges. Later, we got the Model 1895 Winchester which was a whole new design for high-velocity ammo. But I think his crowning glory, where lever actions are concerned, was his Model 1894 rifle and carbine.