Even with our self-imposed selectivity, there were so many birds we were able to focus on ducks that would drop on the ground around our blind rather than in the water.

My newest, newest ‘Things That Don't Suck’ article from TheTruthAboutGuns.com.

My recent article in the TruthAboutGuns.com - describing the ‘driven’ Pheasant shoot at South Fork Hunting Preserve - highlighted a few of the wonderful dogs we encountered.

Dan Zimmerman, Editor of TheTruthAboutGuns.com, was kind enough to quickly edit and schedule the article about Saturday’s Continental Pheasant hunt at South Fork Hunting Preserve.

As we pulled out of the driveway in Lubbock, Texas, the ice pellets started rattling off the windshield of the station wagon and the north wind bent the trees toward the ground.

I'll let the photos speak for themselves...until I finish my write-up that is…

With our friends, Jacob and Colby, at South Fork Hunting Preserve, for my first-ever pheasant throw.

This may be the understatement of the century from W.D.M. ‘Karamojo’ Bell.

As typical of the hunts that went on at this favorite site, I remember one that occurred when I was eight years old.

J.A. Hunter was a Professional Hunter that worked as an animal control officer, Hunting Guide and also a Guide for those folks who might not care to hunt, but instead wanted pretty photos of wild species.

In my mind dove season in West Texas is a September sport. It could involve some cool evenings, but more often than not I sweated under the not-yet-winter sun while buried in patches of six feet tall Helianthus annuus (the native sunflower).

Upon reaching the spot where the hog had been feeding, I was heartened to see a large splash of blood.

If what we experienced for the next hour and a half of our hunt was shown to me on a hunting video, I would assume that it had been spliced together from several sessions.

It really should have been a failure, my first-ever attempt at hunting feral hogs.

When I first encountered Harris Bipods I had no idea what they were, or who made them.

The one discordant note from the first day came from the lack of elk.

As I considered the soggy dawn, I reminded myself that the rain was melting the ice. My morning had not begun well.

Cannot wait to have my copy of Craig Boddington’s Buffalo II in my hands!