October 2010, Pennsylvania: As documented in our “flip phone” photos and videos, we estimated this male bear (also called a boar) weighed upwards of six hundred pounds. He and another three hundred pounder were stalking a hunt lodge attendant and myself throughout the day. Exhausted, I spent a moment relishing the harvest of my trophy hog. Tony cautioned again, “Turn around!” Now approached both bears to fifteen yards—fearless—and circling us for rations. We began yelling and throwing fist-sized rocks while frantically radioing for backup at the lodge. That was the longest ten minutes of my life. No sooner than we vacated the area, the alpha male advanced to the kill site and began slurping up the blood pool left behind. A gruesome reminder of nature’s indifference towards fate.
Last week of May 2011, Topsfield, Maine: A week I’ll never forget. Tomah Mountain Outfitters set us in a spot no other human has ever hunted on Penobscot Indian Territory. Not a big guy, but he made for a beautiful mount for the den. My daughter, Danielle, had just turned ten years old and helped film my hunt. Our story appeared in both North American Hunter and Bear Hunting Magazine. Eating black bear comes down to personal cooking prep and palette preference. Trichinella is not something you want!
In July 2011, I spotted a buck antelope tending to his harem outside Jackson, Wyoming, while attending an educators’ camp. I jumped out of the van, stooped, and crawled for nearly 100 yards through frisbees of buffalo dung to capture the “speed goat” on film before his rocketing off. This photo made the cover of Exotic Wildlife Association’s 2012 Spring Edition. I think the older we get the more we appreciate every type of landscape God has made.
October 2011, Maine: In northern territories, many highway bends hold the chance of hitting a crossing moose. I’ve had near misses in Maine, Vermont, Wyoming, and Alaska. Caution signs reading, HIGH RATE OF MOOSE CRASHES NEXT 6 MILES, aren’t there to tease visitors. Twenty minutes after dark one night, I witnessed a majestic monster bull walk ahead of our truck’s headlights and hold us up for minutes before moving aside. One hour earlier, and he would’ve been a wall-hanger.
THE AMERICAN ICON
THE Midwest is known as big buck country. In fact, this guy made the 2019 November cover of MidWest Outdoors (IND/MICH). The last week of October, just into November (from the twentieth to the third), is referred to as the “seeking phase” of Pre-Rut. Testosterone levels are ramping, and bucks are becoming visible in daylight. Small bucks start chasing, but alphas need another week of doe teasing. Still, focus on bed-to-feed routes, especially those with newer rubs and scrapes.
October 2013, Pennsylvania: We searched all day for a 9-point buck we heard the land owner say had a broken jaw. He couldn't eat, and drinking was tough. It wouldn't be long. He called us and said, "Go to the downed ash tree beneath a large white pine just up the hill from the retention pond. He'll be there." Sure enough, he was lying behind some brush, and you could barely make out his rack with a scope. I put a round through the base of his neck, and he never got off the ground. When we asked the owner how he knew where the buck was, he said he'd been praying that morning, and the Lord told him where to direct us. So, I nicknamed him 'Divine.'
Pennsylvania Elk are descendants of the transplanted Yellowstone Rocky Mountain Elk of 1913 and 1915 by train. Yearling elk can grow single spikes ten to twenty-four inches long, while older bulls may produce racks with four to five feet long main beams and five to nine tines to a side. An elk with twelve antler points is called a “Royal” bull. One with fourteen points is crowned “Imperial.” Bulls carry their antlers into late winter or early spring. A crown symbolizes divine honor, glory, and victory. Next time you witness a deer’s antler adornment or pierce its side in season, think about the love Jesus showed his accusers. Mocked as “King of the Jews” and having a crown of thorns smashed into his head, his bloodletting was the atonement for your sin. Then give thanks.
2020, Montana: On one particular December day, the 26th to be exact, we set out early on a BLM (Bureau of Land Management) unit adjacent to Ted Turner’s property of 120,000 acres. Here, we’d attempt to cut off the large cow elk herd migrating over and back daily. After a heart-pounding climb to a vantage peak, we bear-crawled the last fifty yards over cervid droppings scattered every couple of feet. I set up for a 400-yard shot on the last cow in line to better monitor her escape. Maybe I flinched, or maybe I misjudged the wind, but the hindquarter penetration from my rifle slowed her to 200 yards parallel. With her femoral vein hit, she couldn’t cross the gully with the herd and stopped. This time, I finished with a heart shot. Elk meat is delicious and sweeter in taste than whitetail. What I couldn’t fly home I donated to a family in need. Hunters should never waste what the Creator provides.