Sommaire pour August / Big Game 2017 de Bowhunter

AS I GO THROUGH the year reviewing and buying hunting stories to fill these pages, and while traveling for Bowhunter TV , listening to the stories of bowhunters I meet along the way, there is one obvious takeaway: Every bowhunt, regardless of location, species being hunted, or experience level of the bowhunter, has the potential to deliver that which we all seek — the thrill of the hunt. Each hunt holds a different “degree of adventure,” but the thrill is ever-present. For example, when a young bow-hunter tells me the story of arrowing his first deer, the excitement in his words is just as intense as it is in those of a veteran bowhunter taking a big whitetail buck he’s been after for three years. Another case in point is…

Browning® Hell’s Canyon® Proximity™ Jacket From Browning comes the tough, lightweight tactical Proximity Jacket ($189.99). Perfect for backcountry bowhunts for elk, or early season treestand hunts for whitetails (and everything in between), this highly rain-resistant top is constructed of a three-layer, 86% polyster/14% spandex fabric treated with DWR. Throw in the company’s Pre-Vent™ membrane and ADDVANCED SCENT CON-TROL™ technology, and you’ve got a jacket that will help you get closer to game than ever before. It has a comfortable fit that allows for better freedom of movement, and treestand hunters will love the integrated Harness Access. Other notables of the Proximity include two zip chest pockets, handwarmer pockets, internal drop pockets, and a drawcord hem. It’s available in men’s sizes S–3XL. Contact: Browning, 1-800-333-3288, browning.com.…

It was late in the day, but we still had enough time for one more stalk, so we headed toward the glacier where Jeff had killed his muskox. The glacier and runoff into the fjord was an unreal sight to see, but we were in search of another muskox. That’s when we spotted a magnificent caribou bull and his cows over a thousand yards up the rocky ridge before us. While outfitter Frank Feldmann and guide Knud talked things over in Danish, my hunting partners and I excitedly tried to figure out how best to get on that big, tall-antlered bull. After a few moments, Frank calmly turned, stowed his binoculars in the boat’s console, and announced that it was time to head back to camp for dinner. My mind…

THE ODDS WERE GOOD that a bull was going to visit the small waterhole, which was ringed by sign. The sun was shining in a deep-blue sky, bathing our side of the mountain in afternoon warmth, and everything felt right. We watched a spike mule deer buck come and go, and listened to the buzz of flies around us as they lifted off and returned to piles of elk droppings. Then, a distant round of thunder reached our ears. My partner and I looked at each other, and I remember thinking that there was no way a storm was going to form in the cloudless sky above us. My hunting partner, who has far more experience than I do in the backcountry, immediately unzipped his pack and dug out his…

I HAVE A HATE/LOVE RELATIONSHIP WITH TRAIL CAMERAS. To describe it as “love/hate” would imply that love has the upper hand. Not in my case. At any given time there are usually about 15 to 20 of the confounded gadgets in use in my outfitting area, and reviewing the hundreds of photos taken daily consumes way too much of my time. I fondly recall when all a guide had to go by was time spent scouting on foot to reveal where big bucks were living. We went by the size of tracks and rubs to find the giants. Actual sightings were rare in the thick Saskatchewan bush, but patient clients were often rewarded with the biggest bucks they ever laid eyes on. The vast majority of modern hunters and clients…

For the Bowhunter staff, reading and judging every youth essay is a true pleasure, and we were impressed by the thoughtful answers to our 2017 Youth Hunter Essay Question: “Is social media an appropriate place to share your hunting experiences and, if so, how can it be done correctly?” This was our 21st annual contest, and once again our staff was honored by the strong participation from young bowhunters across North America. Congratulations to Grand Prize Winner Alex Young, and to all the other youngsters who won great equipment from our supportive friends in the archery industry. Watch for Alex’s winning essay in the September 2017 issue. The 2018 contest will be announced in our November/December 2017 issue. GRAND PRIZE WINNER ALEX YOUNG, Puyallup, WA: a 3-day Spring turkey hunt…

Endless Possibilities THE YEAR 1986 was a significant one for me personally. I turned 12 years old in January of that year, which made me of legal age to hunt in my home state of Pennsylvania. Chasing squirrels, rabbits, ringnecks, and whitetails that fall with my dad ignited a passion and obsession for hunting in me that has not waned one little bit to this day. Another important event, and one that affected not just this then newbie hunter but the entire hunting community, also occurred in 1986 — the birth of Mossy Oak. There weren’t too many camo options for hunters to choose from before Mossy Oak burst onto the scene with patterns like Bottomland, Greenleaf, original Treestand, Full Foliage and Fall Foliage, and about the only things camo…

IT WAS JULY 1969, and I’ll never forget it. Everyone in our neighborhood was glued to the television as Neil Armstrong hopped off the Lunar Module and told the world that the Apollo moon landing was “One small step for man… One giant leap for mankind.” I was 11 years old, and as Walter Cronkite did the play by play, I watched my mesmerized parents. I knew that this was something very special. The level of commitment, dedication, and skill required to complete that moon mission was staggering. When Armstrong opened the hatch, he didn’t know how well his suit would protect him from the harsh climate of the moon. Neither he or his teammates, Michael Collins and Buzz Aldrin, knew if they would ever get back to Earth. Potentially,…

THE ELK OF MY DREAMS, a beautiful 6x6 bull, was at 25 yards and closing fast. He was in the open, and so was I — not a thistle stood between us. I tried not to breathe, and I drew as the bull passed by me at only 10 yards. Rarely, if ever, do I hunt alone, but sometimes that’s what the situation dictates. A mid-winter move from Tennessee to New Mexico not only resulted in the desertion of familiar territory, but also caused me to abandon all of my hunting partners as well. So this year, not only was I going on my first-ever elk hunt, I was going to have to go it alone. I come from a hunting family. Deer and turkeys were the norm. I knew…