Editor’s Note: This story was originally published in the June 1953 issue of Outdoor Life and it reflects the language and stereotypes of the times.

A COLD OCTOBER drizzle was soaking the Ontario bush when the old Ojibway Indian and his wife beached their canoe below our tent. They had a little boy with them, sort of wedged in the bow ahead of the woman, and he was yelling bloody murder. 

They looked too old to be his parents, and the man explained that, jerking a finger at the toddler and grunting, “Mamma dead.” 

After we welcomed them with cigarettes, the woman held the boy up and pointed to his mouth. “Hurt,” she said. And he wailed at the top of his voice. 

Neither my partner, K. K. (Knick) Knickerbocker, nor I is a medicine man, but we got the idea. The poor little cuss was teething, and they’d come to our camp hoping we could do something for him. I rummaged in my gear for the best remedy we had, a bottle of aspirin. We didn’t dare give them the whole bottle for fear they’d feed them all to the kid. So I shook out a dozen tablets, broke each in half, then pointed to the face of my watch and held up half a tablet for each hour. 

They were tickled pink. The woman poked the first dose into the boy without ceremony. He went right on crying, but they paid no attention to him. 

They came up to our tent and the man’s eyes fell on our two 70-pound-pull hunting bows and the arrows. Curious as a kid with a bulging Christmas stocking, he tested the razor-sharp edge of the four-bladed arrowheads, tried the pull of my bow. Then, after looking in vain for firearms, he grinned at me, and said, “Moose big. String-gun too little.”

KNICK AND I were still chuckling about it long after the Indians paddled away. 

“Honest Indian,” Knick said. 

But we didn’t share all the old man’s doubts. I started hunting big game with a bow in 1935, and I’ve never carried a gun since. Knick’s also an experienced archer, and he’d come all the way from Virginia to match his bow with a moose. Up to the time of our moose hunt, I’d killed nothing bigger than deer (though I’ve added moose, bear, antelope, and elk to my list since) and neither had Knick. Still we both felt our bows would stop a moose. Other archers had proved that. 

The Indian wasn’t the first to rate us underequipped for moose hunting. We’d had difficulty finding outfitters and guides willing to handle us, once they learned we intended to use bows rather than guns. 

One outfitter bluntly canceled our reservations. Another said he was booked full. 

We didn’t blame them. Surprisingly few know much about the killing power of hunting bows. And since big-game guides live largely by the success of their parties, it’s only natural that most shy away from archers. Guns get more game. 

It wasn’t until Knick and I contacted Archie McDonald in Quibell that we were able to arrange for a moose hunt in Ontario. And I confess we’d been in Archie’s main camp on Cliff Lake two days before we let it be known we were gunless. By that time it was too late to pack us out. 

For guides we drew Bill Humphries an Victor MacQueen, an Englishman and a Scot respectively, and they were good sports about the thing. We were to hunt in an area where they trap beavers in winter. They assured us there were plenty of moose there, and if we were willing to take chances on bows it was O.K. with them. 

So the four of us set out for Cedar River, the outlet of Lake Wabaskang, 100 miles north of International Falls. We worked through a chain of lakes—Twilight, Evening, Mystery, Cliff, Cedar, Perrault—traveling in two canoes with five-horsepower outboards, and portaging over rocky trails. Cold rain fell in an endless drizzle, broken only by harder squalls. We were wind-bound on Cliff Lake, on Cedar, and again at the lower end of Wabaskang. 

We made camp late one afternoon, dried our clothes and bags, and let a good fire drive the chill from our bones. By morning the rain stopped, and the world began to look like a fit place to live. 

It became a wonderful world when we took our casting rods down to the Cedar and flipped our spoons at the foot of a low waterfall. We caught wall-eyes and northern pike as fast as we could take ’em off the hooks. The pike ran 10 to 12 pounds apiece. In 30 minutes I landed three that totaled 40 pounds. We hung a few in trees around camp for bear bait. We put back the ones we caught after that; it was wall-eyes we wanted for eating, and the river swarmed with them. 

Yet we found the best fishing of all at Wine Lake, a few miles down the Cedar from Wabaskang. Lake trout from three to 12 pounds had come up in the shoals to spawn, and they pounced on our lures the way a leopard goes after a goat. Now and then we hooked lunkers that wouldn’t be handled on our medium-weight casting rods. We broke lines and smashed tips on some I bet weighed over 25 pounds. We kept no lakers, still preferring wall-eyes at camp, but we caught them at the rate of 10 or 12 an hour anytime we fished. 

It was raining again the second morning, but Knick and I had come a long way to kill a moose and we didn’t have all fall to do it. So after breakfast we climbed into the two canoes and headed downriver. 

Knick and Bill turned off where Wine Lake has its outlet in the Cedar, but Vic and I kept on another three or four miles. Then we went up a small creek and into a little unnamed lake that Vic said was a moose hangout. By that time the wind was blowing a gale and the cold rain had us drenched to the skin. We went ashore, got a fire going, and huddled over it until our teeth stopped chattering. Then we went moose hunting. 

Wet weather gives an archer one great advantage over the prey. He can move without noise, which he must do to get close enough to score with an arrow. Vic and I traveled slowly, combing every open place ahead. Eventually we spotted a sleek whitetail buck, a six-pointer, coming toward us. I picked an opening ahead of him in the brush and lined an arrow on it. When he walked into it I let go. It should have been an easy shot, since his neck and part of his shoulder were in sight at about 30 yards, but there was too much thick stuff in the way. Or maybe it was my fault. My fingertips were numb with cold by that time, and I didn’t get off a good release. 

I heard the arrow thud into something solid and saw the deer whirl and run. I found the arrow, bedded in a young pine, three paces short of where he’d stood. It had brushed a twig, glanced off, and whacked into the tree. “I got a name for this place.” I told Vic. “Let’s call it Arrow Lake.” 

He grinned, but it was a feeble performance, and I could see he was biting his tongue to hold back some remark on my performance. 

It helped when I missed another shot at a bigger buck late that afternoon. I shot high, and again I blamed my cold fingers. But I knew better than to alibi to Vic. We saw seven deer that day, including three bucks, and I could have killed all three with a rifle. By the time we got back to camp I realized that any fragment of faith Vic and Bill may have had in archery was as good as gone. At supper the guides exchanged significant glances across the fire and acted like a couple of guys who have picked a lame horse. 

THE WEATHER broke two days later, and we saw stars overhead and pink in the morning sky for the first time since the hunt began. We hurried through breakfast and were on our way before sunrise, running, the canoes through a winding canyon of gold and scarlet foilage. We hadn’t realized how far autumn had advanced. Ducks got up in front of us, and an eagle soared lazily overhead. 

We separated once again, agreeing to meet for lunch. Vic and I saw two cow moose that forenoon, but nothing with antlers. Knick and Bill stalked a good buck but couldn’t get within range. 

At noon we met in a cove formed by a big point that thrust half a mile out into the lake. We were finishing the last of our grub when a series of low, whimpering grunts rolled across the water to us. Bill lifted a warning hand. We listened until it was repeated. 

“Cow, calling,” Vic said softly. “She may have a bull with her.” 

We got up noiselessly and laid our plans in a hurry. The point was connected to the main shore by a neck of land about 200 yards wide and timbered with open stuff. Knick and I would have a chance for shooting there. The guides would drive, starting at the far end of the point, and if there was a bull with the lovelorn cow he’d have to come past us to get ashore. 

Knick and I picked our stands and Bill and Vic shoved off in one of the canoes. Ten minutes later a cow moose come out of the willows 300 yards away, splashed through the shallows, and struck out across the cove. When nothing else showed up in three or four minutes I relaxed. Then I heard a heavy animal coming through the brush in a hurry and headed almost at me. I caught a glimpse of brown, too light for a moose, and an eight-point buck came busting out of the adlers. He was spooked, and going places, but I had him in the open and I knew he was my buck. 

He went past me at 15 yards, running in long, reaching bounds. I shot when he was broadside. The arrow made a good solid hit, but I saw that I’d failed to lead him enough. I’d aimed for the rib section but the arrow had flashed into his flank. 

I found out later the shot would have killed him anyway, likely within 100 yards. The four-bladed head had severed big arteries and was bedded against the hip bone. But I didn’t know that at the time. 

The only apparent effect of the shot was to slow him down. His long jumps changed to short, high hops. I sent another arrow after him before he’d gone 20 yards. It sailed over his back, a clean miss. 

He was going straight away from me, 40 yards off, when I loosed a third arrow. That sounds like fast shooting with a bow but my average time between shots is five seconds, and the buck lost a lot of his speed as a result of my first shot. 

I took a little more time with that third shot. It struck him in the back of the neck, just below the head, and he went down like a dishrag. When we dressed him we discovered the arrow had gone through the first vertebra behind the skull and had driven deep into the brain. No bullet ever killed a deer quicker. 

Bill and Vic came out of the brush in a few minutes, plainly disappointed and disgusted. They’d heard no shooting, of course, and I realized it hadn’t even occurred to them there could be a kill without gunfire. 

“See anything?” Vic asked with patient resignation. 

“Saw a cow moose and a buck,” I replied. “The moose swam the cove.”

“What happened to the deer?” 

“He went right through here,” I said, pointing. 

I let them take the lead, and they almost fell over the dead buck. 

“Well, I’ll be damned,” Vic muttered. Bill added, “No shooting or nothing.” It wasn’t lavish praise, but the way they said it made it about the biggest compliment I’d ever had on a hunting trip. 

Back at camp that night, however, I could see the two weren’t convinced that a bow was proper moose medicine. They’d witnessed a trial demonstration and were inclined to give me more credit than I deserved, but there’s a difference of something like 800 pounds between a moose and a deer, and to their way of thinking, killing a moose would require a far more lethal weapon. 

Knick and I voted to try the Arrow Lake country next morning. We’d seen plenty of moose sign there and also a couple of cows. It looked like a good bet. 

Knick and Bill left camp first but they loitered on the way down the Cedar, scouting for tracks, and Vic and I passed them. But five minutes after we paddled into the little lake they came out of the creek behind us—just in time for the show. 

Right then, with both canoes in plain sight, a moose showed up at the edge of the alders across the lake. We saw his antlers first, over the top of the brush, and then he waded into the water. I had my glasses on him before he took three steps. He was a big bull with a fine head. 

WHY HE DIDN’T spot us, I still don’t know. While our canoes were fairly close to shore and he was almost half a mile away, we had no cover. I didn’t think there was a chance we could cross to his side of the open lake unseen. But we had to try. 

Vic and I crouched low and drove our canoe with hard, noiseless strokes. Knick and Bill were close behind as we rounded the end of the lake. A brushy point now hid us from the moose, so Vic turned the canoe toward shore. I was out of it and into the alders before its bottom touched land. 

When I’d last seen the bull he was coming down the lake in our direction, walking slowly in shallow water about 25 yards offshore. There was a strong wind, blowing in my favor and making enough noise in the undergrowth to cover my movements. A few yards back in the brush I found a game trail running parallel to shore, and I followed it until I figured I was halfway to the moose. Then I took a branch trail down to the water. 

Unable to see more than a few yards along shore, I crouched at the edge of the alders and waited. Nothing happened for a minute or two, and I was sure the bull had heard me and turned back. But I squatted there patiently and listened. 

Then I heard him, splashing and grunting. Another five seconds and I caught sight of him through a hole in the bushes, 75 yards off. 

For an instant I was as near to buck fever as I’ve ever been. He looked as big as a boxcar, and I recalled what the Indian had said about my string-gun. Suppose he was right? That was a lot of moose bearing down on me. I wondered what he’d do when my arrow drove into him. Would he come crashing for shore and pound me to a pulp with his big hoofs? 

Then I took another look, sizing up his black bulk and his broad antlers, that shone like polished mahogany. They’d go 48 inches or better. I thought of Knick, Bill, and Vic back on the point, watching from the brush, waiting for my shot. 

My bow was up to it. Was I? 

IF THE MOOSE kept his course he’d pass in front of me about 20 yards away. I could take all the time I wanted, and at that range I could hardly miss. 

I found another opening in the brush and settled myself on one knee. I could no longer see him but I could hear him coming. Then his neck and shoulders filled the opening. I brought the bowstring back to full draw and heard the sharp, satisfying twang as the arrow left it. And I was on target. The feathers of the arrow suddenly sprouted out from the center of the bull’s rib section. 

“That ought to fix him,” I murmured to myself. 

The moose flinched and stiffened. For an instant he froze in his tracks. Then he whirled and lunged toward deeper water. But he made only three jumps before he stopped broadside to me. 

I had a second arrow on the string when he humped his back, stretched out his neck, and blew a red gush from both nostrils. I eased off my draw then, knowing he was done for. He turned toward shore, but his legs buckled and he went down. One arrow killed him before he’d moved twice his own length from the place where he stood when it hit him. 

We got ropes on him and towed him ashore. When we dressed him we found that my arrow had entered between two ribs, sliced through the lungs, cut off big blood vessels, and stopped when the head sheared off a rib on the opposite side. The moose was dead a minute after he was shot. That’s how a hunting arrow is supposed to kill. 

The Indian and his wife and the little boy turned up at camp about noon next day. Maybe they smelled meat. Anyway, they heard of our luck—perhaps via the moccasin telegraph. The kid was quiet, but both he and the old ones looked hungry. 

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We had two moose tenderloins hanging in front of our tent. I took one down and gave it to the old fellow. He grinned from ear to ear, and the woman started to paw through the duffel piled under a tarp in the middle of their canoe. She came up with a faded sugar bag full of wild rice, and handed it to us. When they were making ready to leave the man saw my bow propped against a tree. He looked from it to the moose quarters hanging near by. “String-gun plenty big!” he grunted. 

It was Bill, the once-skeptical guide, who whooped a hearty “I’ll tell the world” back at him. Across the fire that night Vic put an interesting question to me. “How much would it cost me,” he asked, “to get a bow like yours?”

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Best Overall		Redline RL-1 Carbon Quiver 6-Arrow	SEE IT
Best Fixed		TightSpot Pivot 2.5 2-piece	SEE IT
Best Budget		Kwikee Kwiver Lite-4	SEE IT

The arrow quiver is one of those pieces of gear that bowhunters generally don’t think about too much. Until it’s a problem. The job of the quiver is pretty simple: carry arrows. That’s it. That’s all it does.

And often times, bowhunters simply look for the cheapest quiver they can find, or one that best matches their bow to complete a killer look. They don’t always pay attention to the working parts of the quiver that earn its keep when the heat is on.

So what do you want in a quiver? You want one that holds your arrows firmly in place, protects you from your broadheads, stays quiet, doesn’t stick out awkwardly, and, of course, looks cool.

Lancaster Archery Supply carries just about every hunting quiver on the market—certainly all the major players in the game. I get the chance to see, touch, and feel all of these quivers as they arrive in inventory, so I know them all pretty well. But in trying to find the best hunting quivers for this article, I took some extra steps to test nearly two dozen quivers.

I put arrows in the grippers and broadheads in the hoods to see how they hold. For the bow-mounted models, I mounted them on my bows to study their profiles and effect on balance, and I took shots to listen for any noise caused by vibrating parts—the coal-mine canary of bad bow quivers.

Combining that knowledge and testing, I came up with the following picks for best hunting quivers in the following categories:

• Best Overall: Nock On Checkmate
• Best Budget: Octane Furnace 4-Arrow Quiver
• Redline RL-1 Carbon Quiver 6-Arrow
• Best Detachable: Conquest Talon
• Best Fixed: TightSpot Pivot 2.5 2-piece
• Kwikee Kwiver Lite-4
• Best Traditional: Selway Slide-On
• Best Hip: Vista Knight Hunting Quiver
• Mathews and Hoyt: Mathews LowPro Detachable Quiver, Mathews Arrow Web HD, Hoyt Carbon Superlite Stretch

The Best Bow Quivers: Reviews and Recommendations

Best Overall: Nock On Checkmate

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Key Features

• 19 inches long, made of high-modulus carbon and aluminum
• Curved hood for wind deflection
• Simple, fast quick disconnect
• Holds five arrows, plus a bonus arrow
• Low-profile design
• Deep, protective hood with durable, dense rubber
• Can be adjusted up and down and left and right for perfect balance
• Holds arrows from micro-diameter up to 23 diameter
• Retractable hanging hook

Pros

• Can be used on the bow or be quickly detached
• Totally silent in all uses
• Rubber arrow gripper has separate notches to hold the skinniest arrows up to 23 diameter
• Curved hood helps cut through the wind
• Includes a one-arrow holder on the bow mount, so if you remove the quiver for hunting, you have a follow-up arrow always at the ready

Cons

• Expensive

The Nock On Checkmate is John Dudley’s latest contribution to the archery world. He sat down and thought about every feature he’d like to see in a quiver, and then he built that quiver.

The Checkmate is 19 inches long, and made of high-modulus carbon and aluminum. The hood is 2.5 inches deep and filled with rubber foam to hold nearly any broadhead on the market securely. Also, the hood is curved to help deflect side winds so they don’t affect the bowhunter as much as if it were flat. And it’s got a retractable ring on the back that can be pulled up for hanging the quiver in a tree stand.

The lower arrow gripper has two notches in each arrow seat to accommodate super skinny or fatter hunting arrows. One of those grippers points directly back at the archer to allow for the fast rear deployment of one of the arrows.

The bow mount features a quick-detach system. Lift a lever, and the quiver slides out. Push the quiver into the receiver and push the lever down, and the quiver is locked in place.

And that bow mount includes two arrow grippers to hold a single arrow. So let’s say you detach your quiver while hunting in a tree stand. You can load one arrow in those grippers, so you’ve always got a follow-up arrow at the ready.

The quiver can be adjusted up and down and in and out to get it to sit exactly where you want it for perfect balance on your bow.

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Best Budget: Octane Furnace 4-Arrow Quiver

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Key Features

• Detachable, one-piece quiver
• Deep hood with thick foam for seating broadheads
• Dual arrow grippers in addition to the hood
• Quickly detaches
• Holds four arrows

Pros

• Costs less than $35
• Securely locks arrow in place with three connection points
• Adjustable height to get the quiver in the right place on your bow
• Quick-detach is fast and easy to use
• Holds arrows of varying diameters

Cons

• The foam in the hood will break up over time
• Won’t stand up to much abuse

Not everyone wants to—or can afford to—spend $100 or more on a bow quiver. Some bowhunters just want the least expensive option for holding arrows securely. The Octane Furnace does that.

It’s a four-arrow quiver with two carbon rods connecting the hood to two arrow grippers. With three connection points, arrows are going to stay put. And the grippers will securely hold the most popular hunting arrow shaft sizes.

The attachment point on the quiver slides up and down so you can seat the quiver at the height you want on your bow. That connection point pops in and out of the quick-detach base that’s mounted to the bow. A lever holds the two parts together and then releases them from one another when you want to remove the quiver.

The hood is 3 inches deep and filled with foam for seating broadheads. You can remove the foam when using field points or mechanicals that you don’t want to sink into the foam.

This quiver isn’t built to handle serious abuse, which is one of the reasons it is so inexpensive. But just pay a little attention to what you do with it, and it will last for many years – especially for tree stand and ground blind hunters who simply carry their bows from the truck to their hunting sites.

Redline RL-1 Carbon Quiver 6-Arrow

Redline

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Key Features

• 20 inches long, yet only weighs 9.7 ounces
• All carbon rods
• Simple, yet secure, quick disconnect
• Holds six arrows
• Low profile design
• Deep, protective hood with rubber lining and dedicated broadhead seats
• Can be adjusted so quiver top stays below top limb and arrows don’t extend beyond bottom limb

Pros

• You can slide the quiver forward or back to get it balanced on the bow
• No rattling when you carry your bow or when shooting
• Rubber arrow gripper holds shafts securely
• Long design is great for securing arrows to the bow
• Quick disconnect is fast and easy

Cons

• The dedicated seats for broadheads are great for expandables and three-blade fixed broadheads, but they’re not ideal for broadheads with two large blades.

The Redline RL-1 Carbon Quiver is a six-arrow quiver measuring 20 inches long, but only weighing 9.7 ounces, thanks to all the carbon in its construction. There’s an identical, 3-arrow version that weighs 6.5 ounces if you want to cut even more weight. Redline is a new player in the compound accessory market, but the people behind the company have tons of experience. This quiver is a great example of the Redline goal, which is to produce quality gear at a fair price. This quiver isn’t cheap, but it’s not over-the-top expensive either.

The long design is a fairly new trend in quivers. I like it. With arrow shafts secured in grippers in the lower third and at the tip, they feel more secure than when you’re using a shorter quiver that grips them in the upper half of the shafts. 

The RL-1 has great rubber broadhead seats inside the hood that work well with any expandables and with three-blade, fixed heads. As I mentioned, big two-blade fixed heads won’t sit as neatly, but they’ll still be secured. 

If you want to take the quiver off when you’re up in the tree stand, there’s a simple, metal lever that you raise about 3 inches and then you slide the quiver straight back. It’s super secure and super quiet.

The features of this quiver are all great, but it vaulted to the top of my list when I put it on my Mathews V3X 33 and shot with it attached. It was whisper quiet, which is important. But what I didn’t expect was how well it allowed me to hold the bow. I was rock steady with the RL-1 on my bow with 4 arrows in the quiver. I held even steadier with it on than I did with it off. I’m sure it’s because I was able to slide the quiver straight back toward me. With a slotted mounting bracket, you can pull this quiver back toward you a good bit farther than you can basically any other quiver. So instead of it sitting parallel to the riser, it can sit parallel to the cables and string.

So the RL-1 is a well-made, lightweight, quiet quiver that holds arrows securely, and can be quickly detached, or balances the bow nicely if you choose to shoot with it on. That’s the quiver grand slam.

Best Detachable: Conquest Talon

Conquest Archery

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Key Features

• Unique, spring-loaded claws grip the mounting bracket
• Considered a five-arrow quiver, but it’s got two extra spots on the back side that allow storage of two more for a seven-arrow total capacity
• Rubber lining in the hood
• Grips arrow shafts in two places, and has point seats in the hood
• Comes with two sets of arrow grippers—one for standard hunting arrows and one for micro-diameter
• Rope tree-loop on the top for hanging in the stand

Pros

• The claw that you squeeze to remove the quiver is unique and ridiculously easy to maneuver
• Ridiculously lightweight
• Dual shaft grippers hold arrows still and quiet at the shot
• Adjustable up and down to get your arrows where you want them on the bow
• Holds seven arrows
• Costs under $90

Cons

• The point seats in the hood are round rubber cups, which I’m not a big fan of for holding broadheads

The Conquest Talon is the only quiver made by Conquest Archery, which is known more for its stabilizers. It’s lightweight, at just 9 ounces, and features dual, rubber shaft grippers, which is unusual for a 13-inch quiver. But those 2 grippers—plus the point seats inside the hood—ensure your arrow isn’t going anywhere until you pull one out.

You can adjust the quiver up and down on the twin, carbon support rods, and then lock it in place so it stays put where you want it. But the main feature of this quiver is the quick disconnect. No other quiver on the market has a disconnect like the Talon.

Essentially, it’s a claw that grabs hold of the mounting block on the riser. The claws are held in place by spring-loaded arms. Squeeze those arms and the claws release the mount block. You can easily pluck this quiver off the bow with one hand in a second.

To be perfectly honest, the Conquest Talon wasn’t on my radar as I was doing my initial research for this article. I had done a video on it two years ago when it came out and hadn’t paid much attention to it since. I saw it in the Lancaster Archery Supply Pro Shop and remembered the unique, quick-disconnect.

At first glance, it seems like there’s no way the quiver claw that grabs the mounting block would have enough force to keep the quiver from rattling. But it does. And the quick disconnect operates simpler and faster than any other I tested.

Best Fixed: TightSpot Pivot 2.5 2-piece

TightSpot

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Key Features

• Broadhead hood and arrow gripper are two separate pieces that are attached individually to the bow
• Multiple included connectors fit just about any compound bow
• Pivoting rods that allow the quiver to transform so it’s always vertical, regardless of the bow
• Screw-in arrow blocks that allow the individual arrow grippers to adjust for fat or skinny arrows
• Durable, solid foam block in the hood secures fixed or mechanical broadheads
• Holds five arrows

Pros

• Can be adjusted to fit nearly all compound bows
• Once set and fitted with arrows, it’s solid
• No audible extra noise added to the bow at the shot
• Hood foam is deep and locks broadheads in place

Cons

• I couldn’t tighten the bolt enough on the lower half of my test quiver to solidly lock down that piece. Once arrows were in it, however, it didn’t move.

The TightSpot Pivot 2.5 2-Piece Quiver is an adjustable quiver that can be permanently attached to just about any compound bow in a variety of configurations. Some bowhunters prefer quivers that are not detachable, because the quivers designed to attach and detach often are the ones prone to rattle when walking and shooting.

The top half—hood—and the bottom half—arrow gripper—of this quiver are bolted onto the riser of a bow independently. TightSpot includes multiple hardware pieces to match the varying connection points across the spectrum of compound bows on the market. Once attached to the riser, the Pivot earns its name from the adjustable rods that can be maneuvered so the quiver stands vertically on any bow. And the rods telescope so you can extend or reduce the distance between the gripper and the hood. You can also push the quiver in toward the riser to produce a slim profile, or pull it out away if you need to work around other accessories.

Screws mounted in rubber wedges between the individual arrow grippers can be driven in, or backed out, which compresses or opens the grippers to accommodate arrows of different diameters. With the wedges screwed all the way in, they’ll firmly hold 4mm shafts. Backed out, you can load 23-diameter shafts without a problem.

The soft foam that fills the hood is my favorite kind of foam for broadheads. No, it isn’t as durable as harder rubber seats in the hoods of other quivers, but it holds broadheads in place better than any other material. And as long as you seat your broadheads in the same holes in the foam every time you load your quiver, the foam will last for many years.

Kwikee Kwiver Lite-4

Kwikee

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Key Features

• Detachable, one-piece quiver
• Deep hood with thin, solid rubber padding inside and guide holes for arrow tips
• Strong arrow gripper will hold skinny and normal diameter hunting arrows
• Can be locked in with an included bolt
• Lightweight at 8.4 ounces
• Holds four arrows

Pros

• Costs $30
• With the Ultra-Lock bolt in place, it’s super quiet
• Actic-2 arrow holder remains pliable in freezing weather
• Easily detaches without the Ultra-Lock bolt
• Even large fixed-blade broadheads are totally enclosed in the hood

Cons

• Without the Ultra-Lock bolt, it has a faint rattle
• With the bolt in place, detaching is not as fast as without it
• Arrows extend below the bottom cam

The Kwikee Kwiver Lite-4 was going to make my list somehow because it’s one of the rare pieces of compound bow equipment that has remained virtually unchanged for more than three decades. I can think of no other piece of compound gear that hasn’t morphed over the years to change the way it functions or the way it looks. With that kind of longevity without transformation, you know The Kwikee Kwiver Lite-4 works.

This is a one-piece, detachable quiver that holds four arrows. Arrows are held about a third of the way down the shaft by the rubber Arctic 2 gripper, which doesn’t turn to rock when it’s cold outside.

The hood has a thin, solid-rubber lining with guide holes in the top to receive arrow points. Those holes combined with the gripper hold arrows pretty snugly in place.

The quick-detach bracket employed by the Kwikee Lite-4 is the same as it’s always been. There’s a metal leaf with a red plastic top that you pull back to insert the quiver. When the quiver is seated, the leaf springs back into place and the red top then holds the quiver down.

To get the quiver completely silent, you’ll need the Ultra-Lock bolt, which mounts through the center of the quiver arm and pins it to the bracket. It’s easy enough to unscrew it to detach the quiver, but it takes extra time. Without that bolt, the quiver does rattle a bit at the shot.

Where the Kwikee Lite-4 sits on the riser is both good and bad. The quiver sits kind of in the middle of the bow, while others usually sit higher. This lower position causes arrows 27 inches and longer to extend below the bottom cam on most bows, which means the nocks are constantly digging into the dirt if you rest your bow on the bottom cam. But that low position allows your bow to balance better during a shot. It doesn’t make the bow top heavy, like some other quivers.

Best Traditional: Selway Slide-On Recurve Quiver

Selway

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Key Features

• Two-piece design
• Slides over limbs
• Hood is solid leather with thick, trad stitching
• Foam insert inside the hood is deep to receive those big traditional broadheads
• Lower, rubber gripper securely holds five arrows
• Fits recurve bows with limbs 1.5-2 inches wide

Pros

• Can be adjusted up and down on the limbs to hold arrows of any length
• The ends twist to get the orientation of both halves so they hold arrows parallel to the bow
• Easy to install
• Looks super traditional

Cons

• Not the most secure-fitting quiver

The Selway Slide-On Recurve Quiver tells you exactly what it is in the name. It’s a two-piece quiver that slides onto recurve bows. Each half slides onto a limb. 

Assembly is simple. Remove the bowstring and slide the hood over the upper limb tip and down toward the riser. Slide the arrow gripper over the lower limb tip and up toward the riser. Position the two halves anywhere to hold your arrows accordingly. The two pieces fit fairly snugly, so long as the limbs are 1.5-2 inches wide. Of course, they fit the 2-inch limbs more snugly than the 1.5-inch.

The hand-stitched leather hood is what makes this quiver so trad. It looks cool and forms the perfect container for my favorite broadhead-holding foam. Stuff a big, 135-grain Zwickey two-blade into this foam and it’s not going anywhere, nor is it cutting anyone accidentally.

With its all-rubber contact points, the Selway is nice and quiet on the bow at the shot. Even though it might be a bit loose on the limbs as compared to a bolt-on quiver, there’s nothing metal to rattle and make noise.  

Having arrows in the quiver actually makes it more secure on the bow because arrows connect the halves to one another. And it holds those arrows within easy reach in case a follow-up shot is needed fast—a not-so-infrequent issue traditional bowhunters face.

Like I said. The Selway Slide-On functions great. What seals its crown as the best traditional quiver is its looks. It’s trad through and through.

Best Hip Quiver: Vista Knight

P.J. Reilly

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Why It Made the Cut

It’s one of the only hip quivers designed to hold broadheads left on the market. It’s well made, looks good and has my favorite type of broadhead foam.

Key Features

• Stunning leather construction
• Sturdy rubber arrow grippers
• Thick hood foam to secure broadheads
• Belt loop
• Intended for wearing only on the right side
• Leather thigh lashes

Pros

• Stows arrows right on your hip for quick loading into your bow
• Leather construction and foam in the hood protect you from razor-sharp broadheads
• Lashed to your thigh, the quiver moves with your leg as you stalk
• Rubber shaft grippers hold arrows securely

Cons

• Not ideal for tree stand or ground blind hunting
• Arrows are more exposed to brush while stalking and can get pried out of the quiver easier than arrows attached to a bow

The Vista Knight Hunting Quiver is a stylish, leather quiver that holds five arrows. It’s 12 inches long by 8.5 inches across and has a loop that connects to a belt worn around your waist. It’s also got leather lashes so you can tie the bottom of the quiver to your thigh. The arrow shafts are held in place by rubber grippers at the top, while the broadhead-tipped points are buried in thick foam inside the hood. 

That foam inside the hood is what separates the Vista Knight from most other hip quivers on the market. Those are designed primarily for arrows tipped with field points, and therefore intended more so for target archery than hunting. Such quivers are no good for broadheads.

Hip quivers used to be quite popular among bowhunters many years ago, but have fallen out of favor in more recent times. That’s probably why there are very few options for hunting hip quivers today. Now, you’re probably most likely to see traditional archers using such a quiver.

But they’re great for spot and stalk hunts. With the lashes tied to your thigh, this quiver moves with your body, holding arrows ready for action right on your hip, sort of like a Western six-shooter. If you have to crawl on your belly, you undo the lashes and shove the quiver around your belt to your back.

Mathews and Hoyt Quivers

Mathews and Hoyt are two bow manufacturers that have cultivated dedicated fan bases that love to fly the manufacturers’ flags. Die-hard Mathews and Hoyt owners will have as many Mathews and Hoyt accessories on their bows as they can get, including quivers. If you’re part of this crowd and you have a Mathews Phase 4, you’re just not going to put a Redline or TighSpot quiver on your bow, even though they will fit.

Fortunately for Mathews and Hoyt owners, their manufacturers both make quality quivers. We are giving them their own category because these quivers only fit the bows they’re named for. So they’re no good to owners of bows that don’t say “Mathews” or “Hoyt.” But if your bow does bear one of those names, these are the quivers for you.

Mathews LowPro Detachable Quiver

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The LowPro is a five-arrow, quick-detach quiver that follows the Mathews’s overall bow design of creating a skinny bow profile. They’ve got the integrate rest mount and the Bridge-Lock cutouts for mounting a sight and stabilizer – all in the name of slimming down the bow. So they need a quiver that keeps that vibe going.

The LowPro features a single carbon rod and attaches to the bow via connections at the top of the quiver and the bottom. A simple press lever at the bottom locks it in place. Lift the lever, and the quiver easily detaches.

The hood is deep and filled with a pliable foam that holds broadheads firmly. And with the hood and lower arrow gripper 20 inches apart, the quiver holds arrows in place more securely and quietly than shorter quivers. You can set your bow on the ground – quiver side down – and not worry about arrows bending or breaking.

It’s a quiver that’s quiet, very functional, low profile, and which will appeal to the Mathews fans who just gotta have all the Mathews accessories.

Read Next: Mathews Phase 4 Review

Mathews Arrow Web HD Quiver

Mathews

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The Arrow Web isn’t Mathews’ latest quiver, but it is the quiver that will fit the most Mathews bows. And it’s been around for many years because it’s well-made. Available in four-arrow or six-arrow versions, the Arrow Web mounts to Mathews bows via a one-of-a-kind connection.

There’s a metal piece shaped like the letter “C” that gets bolted to a unique-shaped recess built into Mathews risers. The quiver then has two metal posts on it. The top one gets seated in a cup on the mounting bracket and the lower one pivots over a raised finger before seating into its own cup.

Now that connection keeps the quiver seated solidly. It, plus harmonic dampeners in the quiver and the mounting bracket keep this quiver ultra-quiet if you choose to shoot with it attached to the bow. But if you press down on that finger on the lower attachment point on the bracket, the quiver can quickly be detached if you like to remove it in the tree stand or ground blind.

The hood space is generous and it’s filled with a rubbery pad that broadheads sink into for nearly total encasement. The arrow grippers easily accommodate standard or micro diameter hunting arrows.

Hoyt Carbon Superlite Stretch

Hoyt

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The Carbon Superlite Stretch is another one of those long quivers, measuring 20 inches. Again, I like that length for stability holding the arrows in place. You can shoot your bow with this quiver attached, or it can quickly be detached at its two mounting points.

The unique feature of the Carbon Superlite Stretch is its adjustability. You can adjust the quiver up or down so the arrows sit on your bow the way you want. And you can also adjust it toward or away from the riser to navigate around other accessories. And if you’re using a Hoyt integrate arrow rest and the Hoyt picatinny mount for your sight, you can pull the Carbon Superlite Stretch insanely tight against the riser for an extremely low profile.

What to Consider When Buying a Quiver

Choosing a hunting quiver doesn’t need to be a long, drawn-out process. If you do your homework and know what you want, you should be able to pick one out in short order.

The process starts with deciding if you want the quiver to be detachable or not. Think how you hunt and where you hunt, and that decision should be simple. Of course, if you’re not sure, then go with detachable, because you can always simply leave that quiver attached.

Study how different quivers attach to a bow. If there’s going to be noise, this is where it’s going to start. You want the connection to be snug—immovable if possible. 

If the quiver is detachable, how does the detach system work? You might be detaching and attaching in the dark, so you don’t want a quiver that requires fine motor skills to put it on or take it off your bow.

Like you’d do buying a car, look under the hood. How does a certain quiver hold arrow points? You want your points held firmly in place to keep them from rattling loose. In my opinion, hoods filled with foam/rubber are the most secure.

Check the arrow grippers. You want them to be pliable, so arrows can slip in and out easily, but you don’t want them to be flimsy, or the arrows will vibrate loose. Pliable, sturdy arrow grippers are best. 

Overall, how well does the quiver hold your arrows? If you hold a quiver that locks arrows in place and one that allows them to move around, you will feel the difference. 

Choose the quiver that holds the number of arrows you want to take with you on bowhunts and fits your budget, and you’re all set.

FAQs

Final Thoughts

Bowhunting quivers aren’t sexy. They aren’t meant to be sexy. You don’t usually hear bowhunters waxing poetic about how much they love their quiver. You want it to do its job and never have to think about it. Pick the right one, and that’s exactly what you’ll get.

The post The Best Bow Quivers of 2023 appeared first on Outdoor Life.

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Among the many highly successful hunters I know, one thing they all have in common is great hunting instincts. Yes, they also have sharp skills and deep knowledge, but more importantly, they can recognize an opportunity and seize it without hesitation.

They have an ability to anticipate what’s going to happen, and they’re able to react without over-analyzation. Often, this results in meat in their freezer when others would go home empty-handed.

The good news here is that we can all sharpen our hunting instincts, however, this is no easy task.

Watching Instincts Develop

Hunting instincts play a role in a variety of different ways, but shooting scenarios are the most obvious. Watching the development of my oldest son, who I’ve taken grouse hunting since he was three years old, has taught me a lot about a hunter’s instinct. I started him on a Savage Rascal .22, and he first learned to shoot with a red dot scope.

He’s progressed to become proficient with iron sights and magnified optics, but his grouse gun is still that little .22. He often accompanies me to the shooting range and will constantly pepper my 100-yard targets with .22 holes. He thinks it’s a gas. As staple of boyhood, he got his first Red Ryder this past spring, and we set up a backyard range for him, where he tears through bottles of BB’s ventilating aluminum cans suspended by strings. But this is more than just fun and games, he’s learning every time we shoot.

My son has always been a quick learner, and now he’s becoming a crack shot before my eyes. He’s been shooting red squirrels with his small hand-me-down compound bow since he was five. A few days ago, we followed a pair of grouse into a black spruce thicket, and when I could see a bird ducking and bobbing his way toward a tiny window through the tangled mess of dry, gray limbs and alder branches, I set the tripod we use and pointed his rifle toward the opening.

He quickly got behind the rifle and had only a couple seconds before the bird walked into the opening. Bang! The grouse dropped. We continued, and he got another one in the same manner. It was our first grouse hunt in a while, and the first time I’ve seen him shoot with such decisiveness. These weren’t lucky shots made in haste; they were intentional and accurate. He prepared quickly and took his opportunities as soon as they appeared.

We Aren’t Born with Hunter’s Instincts

I’d love to believe that the secret to being a great shot on wild game is simply flowing within the Freel family bloodline. And it’s nice to think that we all have hunting instincts and skills hardcoded into our DNA from ancient ancestors who chased down wooly mammoths with bows and spears.

But, unfortunately, that’s not how it works in the real world. Of course, some people have natural abilities (like keen vision or good hand-eye-coordination) that help them become better hunters, but a true hunter’s instinct isn’t something you’re born with. Hunting instinct is cultured and learned.

I’ve been crazy about hunting for as long as I can remember, but that didn’t mean I was always good at it. When I was 12 years old, my dad and I started calling coyotes together. I loved it, but I don’t remember killing a single coyote that first winter. Over several years, we got better, learning from each coyote we called in. We learned to predict what they were likely to do, we learned when to shoot and when to wait. As our experience and skills grew, so did our instinct for it.

We had to see a lot of hunts play out and we also mess up on a lot of coyotes before we really had the right instincts. All those experiences informed future hunts.

You Can’t Buy Instinct

Shooting animals ethically, effectively, and decisively, is a learned skill. That skill can’t be bought, and neither can good shooting instincts.

In the materialistic and hyper-marketed world, we live in, it’s easy to fall for the notion that you can buy yourself better results with better gear. While accurate rifles, quality ammunition, and precise optics do provide tangible benefits, they don’t mean shit if you don’t know how to use them. Competency takes lots of practice, and yes, some failure, too.

Based on the nature of many posts and conversations I’ve seen, I’d say it’s easy for many new hunters to be paralyzed by indecisiveness—afraid to just go, try, and even fail on their own. Many want to be told everything from where to go to which type of bootlaces they need to be using. The best advice is to simply get out there and learn as you go.

Likewise, even many experienced hunters put too much emphasis on gear and not enough emphasis on time in the field.

How to Develop a Hunter’s Instinct

The best route for developing a deadly and efficient hunting instinct is, quite simply, to spend a lot of time hunting. To get good at recognizing shot opportunities and to capitalize on them, you need to get many of animals in front of you. And to do that, you’ve got to spend serious time in the woods.

But range time matters too. I started my son out with a red dot scope because it made for one less complication to the shooting process, and he could see success and improvement. It made shooting fun. With thousands of repetitions, he’s become comfortable, quick, and decisive in his shooting. When starting with iron sights this summer on his BB gun, he was frustrated and shaky, shooting off a bench. Now he can make those tin cans dance shooting offhand better than Chuck Connors. That snappy decisiveness translates to hunting.

Experienced hunters can sharpen their instinct by practicing with a shot process. This means executing the exact same steps in the same order before every shot (this gets written about a lot in archery, but it’s important for any type of shooting). Drilling a shot process might seem counter intuitive at first, because the whole point of going on instinct is to not think about it, right? That’s true, but first you’ve got to build solid fundamentals. By practicing with a shot process, you drill those fundamentals into your subconscious. Soon, you won’t be thinking about the steps in the process, you’ll do them automatically. When a shot opportunity presents itself on a hunt, you’ll shoot the exact same way you do in practice.

It’s amazing to watch son develop his skills and hunter’s instinct. But it’s important to remember that the focus of any hunt should never be only on killing something. After all, you’ll learn more from missed opportunities than successful ones. I know I must be patient and have him only take good opportunities and ethical shots, but more and more he’s recognizing those opportunities on his own.

The post The Best Hunters Go on Instinct. Here’s How to Sharpen Yours appeared first on Outdoor Life.

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“Big tracks don’t always mean big racks, but big racks always mean big tracks.” —Old deer hunter saying

“I’VE NEVER YET shot a big buck that didn’t have a big track. So a big track is key. You find a big track, and now you’re getting someplace.”

I listen closely to Michael Hirschi, even as my eyes wander incredulously across the handful of 200-plus Boone and Crockett mule deer mounted on the walls around him.

We sit in his office, which doubles as the master bedroom of his Utah home. There are a half dozen monster bucks on these walls and more on almost every wall in the house. And more still in the shop outside. Most serious mule deer hunters will spend a lifetime to catch perhaps one glimpse of a buck like these. One hunter in 10,000 might actually kill one. Once I asked Michael how many 190-plus bucks he’d taken. He thought a moment before replying, “More than 20.”

Michael and I have been friends for years. Yet awe still washes over me every time I see his collection of once-in-a-lifetime bucks. I’ve lived my life in some of the best big-buck habitat on Earth, and I’ve personally killed some big mule deer. I know many talented deer hunters, but Hirschi is different: He has a gift. His time to hunt is limited, but he’s the most dedicated hunter I know. He doesn’t own or pay to hunt private land. Despite all that—or perhaps in part because of it—he is, I believe, the finest big-buck mule deer hunter alive.

“I’ll keep looking, checking another area, and another, until I find a big track,” he adds. “And then I’ll key in on that area.”

I pry my eyes from those massive antlers and study my friend. He’s slightly above average in height and powerfully built, and he sports the small potbelly typical of athletic men in their 50s. He’s a good guy: generous, kind, and humble, and willing to help his friends and family who hunt. But you won’t find him talking hunting at the local convenience store. For him to tell you about his hunting spots requires years of unbroken trust. Monster mule deer are his passion, and he’s always thinking about where he might find the next one.

“We’ll be riding the four-wheeler down some remote desert two-track, flying along, me snuggled up and thinking we’re having this romantic ride together,” says Hirschi’s wife, Kristine. “Suddenly he’ll lock the tires up and we’ll skid to a halt in a cloud of dust. ‘I saw a deer track,’ he’ll say, and throw it in reverse. That’s how he is. Always focused.”

Focused is the only word for him. Hirschi hunts areas with such low deer densities that he’s gone up to six days in a row without sighting a single deer. Not many people have the mental fortitude to endure that kind of punishment. But it doesn’t faze Hirschi. Because on the seventh day, he just might spot his next monster buck.

Big Tracks in Big Country

So what is a large track exactly? This varies from deer to deer, explains Hirschi. A buck that lives in a rocky region will have shorter feet than a buck that spends his time in sand or grass. Anything more than 3 inches long is worthy of a second look, and a track in the 3⅜-to-3¾-inch range will usually come from a truly big, old deer. The track must be wide as well as long, which will give it a blocky shape—like something heavy made it. A big buck’s tracks will be wider apart than tracks left by a young buck, denoting broad shoulders and a thick, mature physique.

Once he locates a track big enough to pique his interest, Hirschi carefully considers his next move.

“I’m gonna ask myself, ‘Where does that track sit on the map to water, bedding, and feed? What is a deer going to do in that location?’” Hirschi says. “‘Where is he watering, and how often?’ Deer are habitual, and they will use a particular area more than others.”

Locating a big mule deer track and following it for miles across the desert sand, finally jumping the buck for a shot, is a vanishing and honored skill among mule deer hunters. Very few can accomplish it.

“An old hunter told me the story of this giant deer he killed,” Hirschi says. “He tracked it three days, slept on the track. Wherever night found him he’d just sleep right there. On the third day he caught up with the buck. He jumped the buck a bunch of times in between, but finally got the opportunity for a good shot.”

Hirschi explains that most bucks will usually circle back to the same place where you jumped them. If a hunter is smart, he can figure out the buck’s pattern before that happens—and use it to his advantage.

“There are the high bedders. They like to bed where they can see stuff. If you’re going down a track and you’re good with your field glasses, you can spot him there, underneath that tree or tucked under that ridge, watching you come. He’ll wait for the right moment to slip away.”

High bedders are the easier deer to hunt. Then you get the low bedders.

“Those are the tough suckers. A low bedder will lie down in the bottom of a wash, up against a cut bank, and you’ll never see him. If something comes up the wash, boom! he’ll blow up over the edge and run like the dickens. And he can run better than I can shoot, no question.”

So Hirschi will track a little way, then circle to try to spot the buck. If you don’t see him, relocate the track, get an idea of where he’s going, and loop again. Making that loop is important, especially if you are working alone.

That’s how Hirschi killed his first giant buck, at the age of 17. He jumped a big deer, followed the sign until he had an idea of his direction of travel, and then made a loop. As he eased in to his original position to reacquire the track, he spotted the buck. The mule deer was watching his backtrail and didn’t expect danger to come from the side.

A Master’s Plan

Any other hunter would want every advantage in his favor when pursuing a world-class buck. But about two decades ago, Hirschi made a decision to hunt only with a bow. He had become confident that if he could find a deer while rifle hunting, he could kill it. That didn’t sit right with him. But even with a bow, he remains improbably effective. Some big bucks do elude him for an entire season, and he never lays eyes on them. This simply fuels his fire. It means he has a deer to scout and hunt the next year. And he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Once Hirschi does locate a big buck, he uses every tool at his disposal to get to know that deer. He’ll study satellite imagery, set trail cameras, follow tracks, and glass from a distance.

When hunting season arrives, he will search for the buck with almost indomitable will until he finds it. This can sometimes take days; the territory Hirschi hunts is vast, and these bucks can and do cover miles each day.

Most often Hirschi will follow a track only until it enters an area he can glass. That’s when he stops hiking and finds a vantage point from which to study the area with his binocular. He believes it is critical to glass several hours from a single position. It may take that long for a deer to move or for the shadows to change so that a deer becomes visible.

If, after several hours of studying an area through his tripod-mounted binocular, he doesn’t spot the buck, he will relocate and start over, glassing the area from a different perspective. Hirschi often goes days, weeks, or even years without finding a buck he’s hunting. The country is vast, and the deer density very low.

When he does find the buck, he’ll watch till it moves into a huntable position. Then he stalks in for a shot. Once in bow range, Hirschi doesn’t believe in trying to make a buck stand by tossing a pebble, or doing anything at all to draw its attention.

“When a buck gets that mature and old, he doesn’t make many mistakes,” he says. “More often than not, he will blow out and never give you a shot. So I just wait.”

I think about what that wait would be like, expecting a shot at a world-class buck any second for hours on end. Those moments are few and far between, says Hirschi, which means he never gets drowsy or lets his mind drift from the task at hand.

“I’m very alert, and there’s enough adrenaline flowing to keep me in focus. Wind is my main focus; I have to pay really close attention, so if the wind swirls or something changes, I can adjust. One moment nothing at all is happening. And one or two seconds later, I might need to make a shot.”

Big-Buck Country

Early that morning, we loaded into Hirschi’s pickup and drove into God’s country, the beautifully barren territory he hunts. We were there, ostensibly, to hunt coyotes. I think we both knew, though, that our main purpose was to connect with one of the places he loves best.

I’ve never been here, where Hirschi has spent countless days. Still, this place is important to both of us. To me, it’s a shrine of sorts. You can’t understand how incredibly difficult it is to hunt this country until you’ve been here.

My friend shows me how the bucks like to move and where they prefer to feed at certain times of year. He points out places he’s given names of his own. Each is enchanting: the Pasture, Heaven, the Gold Coast, Paradise, and Hope Town. They are names no one else would ever recognize. Which is important, because Mike Hirschi kills almost all his bucks on general-season, public-land units.

In his home state of Utah, private hunting land is rare, so hunters must compete with hordes of other public-land hunters. The hunting is tough, and most people will shoot the first buck they see. This makes it hard for a buck to reach maturity.

Further exacerbating the challenge of hunting public lands is the fact that tags are becoming increasingly hard to get. So any hunter who routinely tags monster bucks on public land is regarded as something of a superhero, a status that Hirschi never sought but possesses nonetheless.

Some hunters admire Hirschi’s accomplishments without jealousy. Other “hunters” try to shadow him—to find his secret spots—and beat him to the big bucks he’s hunting. So Hirschi is cautious about who he speaks with and what information he shares. He’s learned that lesson the hard way; several of his top spots have been spoiled by unscrupulous hunters who have betrayed his confidences.

The Legend of Clusty

We hunt coyotes, talk about deer, and finally end up back at the Hirschi place. My eyes drift again to one of the mounts behind him, a buck with otherworldly mass and towering antlers that stands at number 11 typical all time in the Pope and Young record books. Hirschi believes that had he managed to kill the buck one year sooner it might have been number one in the world, because that year his G2 and G3 tines would have forked much lower and measured significantly longer.

I wonder how a buck that big could possibly be any bigger. I also wonder if I could hold it together for a shot at one of these monster bucks, especially after investing years of scouting, days of glassing, miles of stalking, and hours of waiting inside bow range. Praying the wind doesn’t swirl. Hoping the buck stands from his bed. Anticipating a shot before darkness falls.

I’ve heard the stories. While hunting another of his bucks, Hirschi stalked within bow range of a group of bedded deer and waited the afternoon away. When the breeze veered, he backed out, then stalked carefully back into bow range, the wind again in his favor. The wind changed a second time, and again he retreated and repeated his stalk from downwind. Like a ghost, he sneaked into bow range a third time, and the group of bucks still hadn’t a clue. When they started to rise and stretch, he watched a buck feed past. The mule deer’s antlers were more than 30 inches wide and would score over 200 inches. Hirschi never drew. He was waiting for an even bigger buck that he knew was among them. Minutes later, he killed a 33¾-inch-wide typical-framed monster that gross green-scored 213 inches in velvet.

But the story I most want to hear is about the biggest buck that Hirschi ever hunted—one that’s not on his wall. A shadow crosses his face and, briefly, he tells me about Clusty.

Clusty, so named for the massive clusters of tines reaching skyward from each antler, lived early in Hirschi’s bowhunting career. He watched Clusty one summer and hunted him hard that fall without success. He saw the buck only one time the following year. Then Clusty disappeared. As far as Hirschi knows, no one ever killed him. He’s quiet, studying the floor.

“How big do you think Clusty was?”

Hirschi responds without hesitation. “At least 250.”

“TWO FIFTY!” The words burst from my mouth.

“Yeah,” Hirschi says. “At least.”

I can see why Clusty’s memory haunts him. Most hunters who tell you they have seen a 250-inch mule deer have just perjured themselves. Not Michael Hirschi. If he says a buck was 250, it was 250. Or bigger.

Divine Intervention

Still, there is something surreal about Hirschi’s ability to find and harvest bucks that are so incredibly above the norm. There’s no doubt that he works hard for this extraordinary success. But I want to know how he thinks about those accomplishments. So I ask him to what he attributes his extraordinary success at finding and harvesting monster deer.

His eyes grow bright as he sits at his desk, a collage of trail-cam photos still open on his desktop and perhaps 640 inches of bone spreading regally above the three shoulder mounts over his head.

“I believe that when God asked us to do specific things, he meant it. I’ve always tried to help or teach friends or kids who want to learn to hunt, whenever I get a chance. We are told that when we serve our fellow man we are in the service of our God. I do my best to fulfill that commandment.”

Hirschi leans back in his chair, his voice gravelly with emotion.

“We’ve also been commanded to set our own affairs aside and do God’s work on the Sabbath. I take that to heart, and I’ve committed to my heavenly Father that I will not follow my passion on his day. I’ve asked him to bless me in return.”

I lean back in my own chair. Hirschi works five days a week and has limited time off. Fifty percent of his weekend is a high price to pay. I suppose the agnostic perspective would be that Hirschi is simply a naturally gifted hunter who lives in trophy mule deer country. And if he hunted Sundays, he’d probably have even a few more bucks on his wall.

But then I really study the walls surrounding me, looking once more at the huge deer mounted there. I think back to the time Hirschi helped my oldest daughter harvest her own 208-inch buck. Then I look back at my friend, and remember everything that he has just shared with me. Some faith, it seems, should not be questioned.

—

Gear Hirschi Won’t Hunt Without

I asked Hirschi if there is anything he won’t go hunting without. He smirked and informed me that he doesn’t like to go without a bow or rifle. We had a good chuckle and then got down to business. Here’s the gear that Hirschi depends on every time he goes afield.

• BOW: PSE Full Throttle, with a draw weight of 60 pounds. His advice? “Use whatever bow you can shoot accurately and consistently. Shot placement is more important than poundage.”
• REST: Whisker Biscuit. Despite derision that it’s a beginner’s rest, Hirschi believes the Whisker Biscuit to be “the best bowhunting rest ever developed” because it’s bulletproof and quiet, and it keeps the arrow secure during stalking and waiting.
• SIGHT: Black Gold Ascent Custom Adjustable seven pin. Hirschi sets his pins at 10-yard intervals beginning at 20 yards and ending at 80. Then he relies on the adjustable feature on his sight to dial for even longer shots. Under ideal conditions, Hirschi is lethal to 100 yards with this setup.
• ARROWS: Victory VF TKO, 300 spine, cut at 29 inches.
• BROADHEAD: Grim Reaper 100-grain 1⅜-inch Razor Tip. Hirschi has used these broadheads since 2008 and has complete confidence in them.
• OPTICS: Along with a Leupold rangefinder and a sturdy tripod, Hirschi relies on a Swarovski 15×56 binocular with a tripod adapter and a Swarovski 20–60×80 spotting scope.
• OTHER GEAR: Leatherman multitool. Hirschi carries a 4-inch model and uses it constantly to measure deer tracks, repair gear, cut with the blade, or trim limbs with the saw. —A.v.B.

This story originally ran in the Diehards issue of Outdoor Life. Read more OL+ stories.

How to Listen to Season 3 of the Outdoor Life Podcast

• Listen to Season 3, available now, on Spotify, Apple, or wherever else you listen to your podcasts. Seasons 1 and 2 are also available.
• Tune in every Wednesday for new episodes of Season 3.

The post Mike Hirschi Might Be the Greatest Trophy Mule Deer Hunter in America. These Are (Some of) His Secrets appeared first on Outdoor Life.

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If you’re looking for a verdict on the English vs American Lab debate, I’ll tell you right now: American Labradors are the clear winner. They’ve got good looks, athleticism, and hunting drive in spades. But that matchup is like pitting a dressage pony against a cowboy’s quarter horse: It doesn’t make a whole lot of sense because they have two very different jobs.

A more apt comparison is between British and American Labs. Because we Americans are notoriously bad at geography, we often use “English” and “British” interchangeably. When it comes to working retrievers, this matters because English Labs are not the same thing as British Labs. English Labs are the stocky, blocky, square-headed Labs that look more suited for napping than fetching. They are traditionally show dogs, or conformation dogs, from England.

British Labs, or field Labs, are bred for hunting and field trial work, and they look an awful lot like healthy American Labs: athletic, lean, and lively. “British” simply means these Labs have bloodlines originating in the British Isles, which includes England, yes, but also Ireland, Scotland, and Wales. (My own British Lab happens to be Irish.) Still, there are plenty of differences to note between British and English vs American Labs. Here’s a rundown.

The English Lab vs American Breed Standard

The American Kennel Club recognizes a single breed of Labrador retriever. In other words, English, British, and American Labs aren’t distinguished by any major genetic differences—they’re all just Labrador retrievers. That’s why the AKC’s and the UK Kennel Club’s descriptions of what an ideal Lab looks and behaves like have far more similarities than differences. For example, Labs from both America and England should have friendly eyes expressing “intelligence and good temper” and a tail that “may be carried gaily but should not curve over [the] back.”

While physical differences can and do exist between American and British retrievers (more on this in a minute), size is usually the only reliable indicator of heritage, says Dave Bavero, owner of Waterstone Labradors in Boerne, Texas. British Labs tend to be smaller than American Labs.

Instead of major genetic differences, behavior and training preferences have shaped Labs so they reflect, somewhat comically, the stereotypes of their owners. American Labradors are vocal, enthusiastic, high-strung. English and British Labs are reserved, quieter, polite.

Physical Characteristics of Labs

Because the following characteristics are generally but not always true, a dog might be larger or smaller than the measurements associated with their bloodlines. Or they may have a mix of traits, like a blocky head and curving tail. When it comes to the English vs American Lab, overall size and personality is often a better indicator of breeding.

One note: The classic “otter tail” that is desirable in all Labs refers not to the length or curvature of a Lab’s tail, but to its rounded shape padded out with thick, dense hair. (If you’ve ever grabbed your Lab’s wagging tail to keep it from whacking you, you’ll understand.)

Energy Levels and Temperament

There’s a reason the Labrador retriever reigned supreme as America’s most popular dog breed for three decades. Labs are versatile dogs known for their energy, trainability, affection, and playfulness. They make great family dogs and dedicated, reliable working dogs. Both American and British Labs thrive with proper obedience training and regular exercise. Because they’re descendants of the extinct St. John’s water dog—a breed that helped fishermen in Newfoundland retrieve their catches—most Labs love water.

As with all dogs of a particular breed, individual Labs have individual personalities. Still, American Labs have a reputation for high energy. They are often vocal (known to bark and whine to express themselves) and can be rambunctious at home. The old saying that Lab puppies finally calm down when they turn three is especially apt when describing American Labs. This is because American Labs are a sporting breed, and breeders have historically prioritized high drive in their litters and continue to breed for those traits.

While the Brits also breed Labradors with retrieving drive in mind, they tend to prioritize calmness and quietness in their dogs. That’s why British Labs have a reputation as well-mannered house dogs.

“I have 15 dogs,” says Matty Lambden, a field trial judge and owner of Tamrose Labradors in central Ireland. “I could walk around me kennels and there won’t be one—not even one squeak. It’s a fault [in the UK]. If your dog whimpers in line, he’s gone. You drove three hours and the dog gives a bit of a cry, he’s out the door and you’re knocked out of the competition. So that’s why we don’t proceed with that [trait] or breed off those dogs. You’re better off putting all [your efforts] into a dog that you know is going to be quiet.”

Trainability of the English Lab vs American

While both American and British Labs are highly trainable and eager to please, the general rule is that American Labs are more resilient to pressure. Pressure refers to physical corrections, ranging from the tug of a leash to e-collar stimulation and force fetching. The reason pressure matters is that a training misstep with a softer dog is likely to have outsize consequences.

“Get a dog that has enough talent that they’re going to make up for your mistakes,” retriever trainer Tom Dokken advises owners interested in training their own Lab. “Because if you get a dog that’s super soft and you’re making mistakes at the wrong time, you might just shut that dog totally down. Whereas a professional trainer, if he has enough experience, he’s evaluating that dog early on to know where that dog’s limits are and where the correction levels are in order to keep it working.”

British Labs are known for their soft temperament and can shut down under too much pressure. It’s not an insult to tell a Brit their dog is soft. On the contrary, it’s a desirable trait and one of the reasons force fetching and e-collar training is almost nonexistent in the UK and among devotees of British-style dog trainers. In fact, British handlers often don’t put any collar on their dog at all. When I asked one British trainer why he didn’t keep collars on his dogs, he shrugged and said he thought they looked better without it (he wasn’t wrong). It’s also something of an obedience humble brag. My dog, he seemed to be saying, doesn’t need a collar.

Which Lab Is a Better Hunting Dog?

You could start bar fights over which breeds and even bloodlines make the best hunting dog breeds. If you ask American Lab handlers which Lab is the better hunting dog, they’ll assure you it’s an American. Brits will tell you just the opposite. (Few people will try to convince you English Labs make good hunting dogs.) In reality, the best Lab for you depends on the kind of hunting you’re planning to do, and what you prioritize in a dog.

“I always tell people to get the best bloodlines you can buy,” says Dokken, the legend behind Dokken’s Oak Ridge Kennels and the inventor of the Dead Fowl Trainer. . “I don’t care if it’s British, American, whatever it is. You can have dogs—again, whether it’s British or American—that have some talent. And then you can have dogs that have a lot of talent.”

Dokken has worked with thousands of dogs over his four-decade career and trained both American and British Labs. He doesn’t play favorites and if you ask him which he prefers, his answer is always the same: “One that wants to work.”

Still, in his decades of hunting and training, Dokken has personally owned five Labs; all five have been American. My British Lab and I trained at Dokken’s farm in South Dakota, a wind-swept prairie with big water and thick cover. It’s a fair microcosm of American bird hunting. Retrievers in the U.S. are often asked to navigate ocean surf for sea ducks, swift rivers for mallards, and half-frozen potholes for pintails. Our hunters work dogs in prickly desert, steep mountains, and dense woods for quail, chukar, and grouse. Hunting here is more dangerous than in tidy British farm ponds and neat hedgerows. 

For that reason, it’s smart to get a high-intensity dog whose drive overwhelms the potential for discomfort or disinterest when the hunting gets tough or slow. On average, that’s probably going to be a Lab with American bloodlines.

If quiet mornings and perfect blind manners are important to you, consider a British Lab. Duck hunting in particular includes lots of slow mornings, and a trained British dog will usually be able to wait out the doldrums silently and without fidgeting. (The same is true of an English Lab vs American if you’re determined to hunt with one.)

Here’s an example: One of the best duck dogs I’ve ever hunted over was an American Lab. That dog was steady, obedient, and had drive oozing out his ears. In the blind, he whined like a spoiled kid doing chores on a Saturday. Ultimately my buddy would get annoyed with his dog and I’d get a headache. (Whining in dogs, Dokken says, is usually involuntary—they don’t know they’re doing it, so it’s often impossible to correct.) Meanwhile, my own pup began his duck hunting career with more uncertainty than a hard-charging American Lab, but he stays naturally quiet, stays put when I ask him to, and picks up ducks just fine.

Labrador Retrievers in Field Trials

British Labs have always made good hunting dogs, says Bavero, but they’ve historically been dismissed by American handlers for field trials and hunt tests. 

“The stigma has been that British Labs are not as competitive of dogs, but you’re starting to see more of them in trials,” says Bavero, who began importing Labs from Ireland with his business partner in 2018. “But a lot of that stigma has been how we [Americans] have been training them: If you want to run a hunt test, you have to put a lot of pressure on the dogs. … The American style has been kind of what we do with most things. Build them up and break them down.”

Bavero finds that U.S. competitions tend to emphasize blind retrieves and focus on a handler’s ability to direct their dog right to a bird rather than letting the dog hunt naturally. Dogs require exceptional drive to endure the tedium of advanced handling drills, so Americans breed for that energy.

READ NEXT: Best GPS Collars

Meanwhile, Brits breed for what Bavero calls “natural game-​finding ability,” a trait that’s rewarded more in British hunt trials, where dogs are handled to an area, then encouraged to search for birds as they would while hunting. Handling is still required but it’s less technical. The cultural emphasis on honoring other dogs has also resulted in calm, steady lines.

FAQs

Final Thoughts

British and American Labs are more similar than they are different. If you’re determined to compare the two, British and English Labs are generally shorter, quieter, and calmer. American Labs are known for their athleticism, high drive, and enthusiasm. But instead of worrying about whether a British or English vs American Lab is “better,” pay attention to which dog is right for your needs and lifestyle. Do your homework and choose a responsible breeder. If you get a chance to see a breeder interact with his dogs and, better yet, meet the sire and dam of a litter you’re considering, do it. Once you’ve made your decision, you’ll fall in love with whichever Lab you take home—no matter what his pedigree says.

The post A Guide to the English Lab vs American Lab appeared first on Outdoor Life.

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On December 13, 2021, Logan Harlan carried a late-season buck tag onto New Mexico public land in hopes of finding a good-sized whitetail. After a few unsuccessful days with his dad Larry and sister-in-law Lorri, the group eventually eyed a large 6-by-6 on public land—a rarity in the heavily checkerboarded region they were hunting. Logan watched the buck for a grueling five and a half hours and belly-crawled a few hundred yards before eventually firing a shot with his 6.5 Creedmor. The buck went down instantly. This perseverance and grit shouldn’t come as a surprise to anyone who knows the Harlan family. They own a taxidermy studio and booking agency and, according to their Instagram and Facebook profiles, they live to hunt.

Whitetail deer aren’t exactly a top game species in New Mexico. Coues’ whitetails and Eastern whitetails, which New Mexico Game and Fish refers to as “Texas whitetails”, comprise roughly five percent of the annual deer harvest statewide. Mule deer make up the other 95 percent. This skewed ratio lends to a rather jarring statistic: Only two New Mexico whitetail deer have ever graced the Boone & Crockett record book. 

Or, at least, that was the case until Harlan took his shot in late 2021. After the requisite 60-day drying period, his typical 6-by-6 scored 176 ⅞ inches. This score would have been even higher had the buck not broken off its left main beam, but it was still enough to edge out the previous record holder, Samuel Beatty, by a half-inch. (The scarcity of New Mexico whitetails is so extreme that B&C doesn’t maintain non-typical records in the state even though the first two record-book whitetails were 6-by-5s.) 

Read Next: The True Backstory on Why the Mitch Rompola Buck Was Never Entered as a World Record

This is usually the moment where the hunting media frenzy hoists Harlan in the air and celebrates his success. But that didn’t happen in February 2022, when the drying period would have ended and the record would have changed hands. In fact, not many people really knew about the buck until North American Whitetails published the first known article about Harlan’s hunt on July 17, roughly 17 months after the drying period ended.

It’s unclear why it took so long for the story of Harlan’s buck to surface. As of right now, NMGF hasn’t updated the record book on its website. (NMGF didn’t immediately respond to OL’s requests for comment.) But Harlan’s name and scoresheet now reside in the B&C book at the top of the New Mexico records, right where they belong.

The post The Record Whitetail That No One Heard About…Until Now appeared first on Outdoor Life.

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Dove hunting is one of the most popular wingshooting sports in the U.S. Each season 1 million hunters spend 3 million days afield to shoot between 15 and 20 million mourning doves, according to U.S. Fish and Wildlife. And 40 of the lower 48 states have established dove hunting seasons. In Texas, where 250,000 people dove hunt, the opener might as well be a state-wide holiday. That’s because dove hunting is fun, relatively accessible, and doves make excellent table fare.

Finding access to dove hunting can range from easy to difficult depending on where you live. In states like Texas, the birds are abundant on many properties. If you don’t have your own property to hunt them on, there are public-land hunt to be had in the southern part of the state. You can also pay a day rate for as little as a $100 to go dove hunting in Texas. In other parts of the country birds and access can be sparse, but if you scout hard or have a few acres to plant a dove plot in the spring, there’s a good chance you can locate enough birds for a favorable shoot.

Finding doves and having access to them are the two main hurdles to clear, but there are a few more things to consider, like where to setup, which shotgun gauge to shoot, and managing hunting pressure. To have a prosperous dove season you need to take all of these variables into account and balance them equally. In our ultimate guide to dove hunting, we’ll cover the following. Read straight through, or click on a section to jump in.

1. How to Find Doves
2. How to Plant Your Own Dove Field
3. How to Set Up on a Dove Hunt
4. Dove Hunting Decoys
5. Dove Shooting Tips
6. Dove Hunting Shotguns, Chokes, and Loads
7. Managing Dove Hunting Pressure
8. Hunting the Late Season

1. How to Find Doves

Locating doves in late August is paramount. Plenty of hunters will simply show up to a sunflower patch on the dove opener and expect to shoot 15 birds. Get an edge on the competition by scouting several locations in the days leading up to Sept. 1. This is critical especially if you hunt public land, but it’s also worth finding private, fresh-cut agricultural fields. When you find birds on private land, knock on doors and ask for permission to hunt. Look for recently burned wheat fields and fields that have been disced.

Water sources, gravel roads (more on this later), and power lines are also good places to find birds. Doves must drink, they use grit to properly digest their food, and perch on the lines. If all three elements exist in one location, you’re likely to find good numbers of doves.

Once you locate the birds, don’t just call it good. Spend time studying their flight lines, that way you can get under the birds before the flight begins on opening day (you may have to arrive several hours before legal shooting time on public land to claim your spot). — J.G., M.P.

Natural Food Sources Are a Good Place to Locate Doves

Given the chance, doves will concentrate on natural foods such as foxtail, ragweed, wild sunflowers, and any native grass that carries a head of small seeds.

Monocultures—areas that are dominated by a single plant species—can provide doves with abundant food, but areas dominated by a single food source generally offer a boom-or-bust proposition for birds. When seeds are mature and available the birds will have plenty to eat, but when the crop is cleaned-up the birds will largely vacate the area. Wildlife biologists know this and generally plant dove fields with a variety of mixed seeding plants including browntop millet, barley, grain sorghum, and sunflowers. A good dove hunting tip is to pay special attention to areas where there are a variety of seeding plants in proximity to one another when you’re scouting. These areas will attract birds throughout the season.

Most hunters recognize agricultural crop fields will attract birds. However, if you understand which native plants are most attractive to doves, you’ll be able to identify a potential hotspot that might be overlooked by others. Doves feed on a variety of native and non-native plants in the fall, and very few hunters can recognize all of them. Pay particular attention to stands of barnyard grass, ragweed, Johnson grass, lespedeza, poke weed (identifiable by its purple berries and stems), sedges, and wild peas. All these plants are very attractive to the birds—and largely ignored by other hunters. —B.F., M.P.

Water and Grit Are Key Factors to Dove Hunting

Water is critical for dove digestion, and the birds will not nest or roost far from a suitable water source. In dove terms, a “suitable” source of water is one that has little vegetation around the shore to obstruct the birds. It’s not uncommon to see doves watering multiple times a day, especially during periods of warm, dry weather. Doves tend to seek out water more often during the morning and evening hours, so hunting near an open water source late in the day is oftentimes a great way to shoot a limit. Ponds and rivers will attract doves if their banks aren’t too steep and there’s little vegetation, but seeps in pastures, small creeks, and even puddles are all favorite watering points for birds. Set up well away from the water’s edge and use natural terrain to conceal your location. Oftentimes doves access water from the same direction when they come for a drink, and once you identify the flight pattern you can set up accordingly.

Mourning doves have crops, which are essentially enlarged muscular pouches that extend from the bird’s esophagus. Crops store food while the birds are feeding (one reported dove crop held over 17,200 bluegrass seeds) and, in the case of doves and pigeons, create “crop milk” which is a rich source of nutrients for nestlings. To help digest the seeds in their crop, doves swallow small stones known as grit. Grit is often collected along the sides of gravel roads, so these areas attract birds and can offer a hot shoot. Just make sure if you set up in a fencerow near the road that it is legal to do so. Some states allow you to hunt the ditch on either side of the road, others strictly forbid it. —B.F.

2. How to Plant Your Own Dove Field

Sunflower and wheat are the two most common fields I see hunters shooting doves over, but you can also plant sorghum, millet, milo for dove hunting success. But for now, let’s focus on sunflowers and wheat.

The good news is that you don’t have to plant a very large field for good hunting. A quarter acre or less is often enough to draw doves.

The bad news is that planting can be tricky in the spring. This varies every spring due to weather (rain, snow, and cold), but if you’re planting a sunflower field ideally you don’t want to get sunflower seeds in the ground any later than the second week of May. Sunflowers have about a 100-day gestation period, so to get a good, full-grown head on the flowers (which means more seeds for the doves to feast on), you need to get them in by then. I try and plant in April (I live in Illinois), if possible, but in the Midwest you can get a freeze or even snow that time of year, so it’s important to keep an eye on the forecast. Folks in southern states can typically plant earlier without worrying about frost.

My recommendation is that when you have the chance to plant, do it. Don’t wait for a dry weekend. Take a day off work and get after it because the weather is volatile in spring. Our last few springs here have been especially wet, and I’ve learned the hard way you must plant at Mother Nature’s convenience or there won’t be a healthy crop come August.

Planting a wheat a field is much easier than sunflowers, because you can plant as soon as the ground is workable. Wheat seed is more like grass seed—it’s hardy and will grow whenever there is precipitation followed by a warmup and it won’t die off even if it gets buried under a foot of spring snow. If you want to spend less money (and time), broadcasting red spring wheat seed is the way to go.

Sunflowers take more time and money. To plant sunflowers, you will need to apply a chemical burn down on the field before the seeds germinate. This helps keep the field clear of weeds, which will stunt the growth of your sunflowers or choke them out altogether. Doves also like feeding in a clean field, not a weed patch, so you must use a burn down to have good hunts in September. You also might have to kill off your sunflowers in August to dry them out so the seeds will drop from the heads. That’s another added expense.

With spring wheat, all you need to do is get the field worked, spread the seed and some fertilizer, and cover it with dirt sometime in March or April. Then in August, you burn the field so all the seeds drop to the ground—doves love it. —J.G.

3. How to Setup for a Dove Hunt

Find the Right Hide

Doves have incredibly good eyesight so they can find tiny seeds while flying at speeds up to 55 miles per hour. Doves are good at spotting movement and avoiding predation, but research has also shown that doves may be able to see color, and the birds may avoid any hues that look out-of-place in their environment. This means that hunters need to take extra steps to conceal their location and most importantly, remain still.

Using natural vegetation is the best way to conceal yourself, so tucking in behind a screen of ragweed or goldenrod will make for a more successful hunt (provided you aren’t allergic to either plant species). You can also find a shady spot along a treeline with the sun at your back or use camo netting affixed to stakes and place it in front of your shooting position. Doves aren’t as wary as a late-season mallard, but they will avoid your field if you don’t conceal yourself. —B.F.

4. Dove Hunting Decoys

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Dove decoys will help distract the birds. Stationary decoys and spinning-wing dove decoys will put the doves at ease and bring them in close for a shot. Clipping stationary decoys to standing sunflowers, fence wires, and tree branches will help make your setup look more realistic. I’ve hunted many fields that had 15- to 20-foot wooden posts dug in the ground and a wire attached to either end to offer doves a comfortable landing spot before they feed. If you have a private dove field, I suggest taking the time to erect a wire in the middle of your field. It doesn’t have to be elaborate. Any kind of long wooden or metal posts with sturdy enough wire or rope will suffice.

Motion decoys work well the first few shoots of the season but eventually, doves will become wise to them. As the season rolls along, watch how doves react to the spinners. I always start off the hunt by using a spinner or two, but if doves shy away from them, I either turn them off or pull the decoys completely. —J.G.

5. Tips for Shooting Doves

Mourning doves are among the fastest and most acrobatic birds we hunt. They are agile enough to make even the most seasoned wingshooter curse their way through opening day. These birds dive, twist, change speed, change direction, and rise and drop so quickly and effortlessly that it sometimes seems impossible to intercept passing targets with any regularity. However, if you learn and practice the fundamentals of wingshooting, you’ll shoot more doves with fewer shells.

Keep your muzzle moving. The muzzle of your shotgun must be in motion before, during, and after the shot. One shotgun instructor that I trained with described it as stroking a paintbrush across the target rather than shooting the bird. This is the most fundamental principle for killing more doves, because if you stop the gun, you’ll shoot behind the bird every time.

Establish a solid cheek weld. Do this by bringing the gun to your shoulder and cheek as opposed to lowering your head to the gun. Practice mounting and swinging your (unloaded) gun prior to the season opener.

Your upper body and gun should remain fixed. Lateral muzzle movement is accomplished by rotating your hips left or right, and muzzle elevation should be controlled by flexing or extension of the back. When standing, keep your weight noticeably forward but not so much that lateral movement is impeded. If you typically shoot while seated, then take the time to practice standing up from a seated position and moving the gun. The neighbors may wonder what you’re up to, but you won’t get skunked on opening day.

Don’t worry about the bead on your shotgun. Your eyes need to be fixed on your target, and your gun should be moving with your body as you track the bird (this is why proper posture is so important). When you aren’t actively on target, practice “soft eyes” by relaxing your focus to scan a wide portion of open sky. You’ll pick up birds more quickly and will have more time to get on target as they approach.

Perfect your trigger pull. A bad trigger pull is often the result of choking the trigger with your shooting finger, flinching, or pulling the trigger at an angle—can move the muzzle enough to cause a miss. To remedy this, place a snap cap (they cost about $20 and quickly pay off) in the chamber of your gun and trace along the top seam of a wall, pulling the trigger as you do so. Pay close attention to the degree the bead deviates from the seam when you pull the trigger; ideally, the muzzle will keep moving on the exact same line as the trigger breaks.

Practice! You’ve heard it before, but here’s how to make your shotgun practice dove-hunt-­specific: For the price of a few trips to a high-end sporting clays range, you can purchase an electronic target thrower and position it on your range or property so that all the targets are angled shots or crossers, the primary presentation for most shots on doves. Having an electronic target thrower will help you keep up with practice year-round—and they’re also a lot of fun. —B.F.

6. Dove Hunting Shotguns, Chokes, and Loads

Shotgun Gauges for Dove Hunting

The gauge of shotgun you pick for dove hunting isn’t as important as making sure you shoot the gun you are most comfortable and accurate with. Opening day of dove season is no time to try out a new smoothbore you haven’t shot a single round of skeet with. Doves are some of the toughest birds to hit, so you want to use a shotgun you are confident with.

Doves are difficult bulls to hit, but not tough birds to drop. In fact, some hunters will say a 12-gauge is too much gun for doves, but a 2¾-inch 1- or 1 1/8-ounce load of lead No. 7s, 8s, or 9s is fine. Sub-gauge guns like 20-gauges and 28-gauges are also great choices for doves. But whichever gauge you choose, be sure to pair it with the proper payload and shot size. —Joe Genzel

Best Load for Dove Hunting

A 2¾-inch lead shotshell with shot sizes from No. 7s to 9s will get the job done on doves, regardless of gauge (a .410 shell is going to be 2 1/2 or 3 inches). For steel loads, you can move up to a No. 6 shot size if you want (a few manufacturers make 2¾- and 3-inch loads in this variant for teal season). Personally, I wouldn’t spend the extra cash on a bismuth load for doves. Same goes for tungsten. TSS is overkill on a dove. Where non-toxic shot is required No. 6 steel will do just fine. —Joe Genzel

Best Choke for Dove Hunting

I typically shoot an auto-loader with a skeet, improved cylinder, or improved modified choke depending on where I am hunting. If you shoot a double-barrel shotgun, that will give you the option of using two choke constrictions, which will allow you to pair your choke to the shot presentation. Small fields lend to offer closer shots; big fields, longer ones, so take that into consideration before the hunt and swap chokes accordingly.

However, every shotgun patterns differently, and no two shooters swing a shotgun the same. You must decide what works best for your style of shooting. The only way to do that is by patterning your gun on paper and shooting clay targets. Shooting skeet and five-stand are the best ways to replicate the shots you will take on doves. It’s worth spending time at the range with the gun, load, and choke you intend to hunt with. —J.G.

7. Manage Dove Hunting Pressure

Doves are not particularly sensitive to hunting pressure, but you can ruin a hunting area by taking limits from it day after day. By the end of the first week of dove season, most popular public fields will be shot-out and the remaining doves in the area will have decided to look for food elsewhere. But, don’t quit on public fields later in the season because most hunters will have moved on, and the birds might return. Or fresh doves may migrate in and utilize the fields.

 If you only have one field to hunt, then do so sparingly—allow a full day of rest before hunting again for optimal success (two or three days is even better). If you have multiple fields to hunt, then rotate between them so you don’t burn your best one. Sure, you might have bagged a limit on successive days in your honey hole, but it’s better to let the area settle before another shoot. Don’t exclusively hunt feeding areas either. Divide your time between feeding locations, grit sites, and water sources.

You can also extend dove season by limiting the amount of time you hunt. If you shoot 10 birds in an hour, get out of the field, and let the dove’s feed. That way they feel more comfortable and are apt to return. It’s the same philosophy some duck hunters use for late-season mallard hunts by shooting birds that are coming in to roost early—from 1 to 3 p.m.—and then pulling stakes to let the bulk of the birds return without hearing a gun shot. —B.F., J.G.

8. Dove Hunting the Late Season

At some point during the season, a cold front will come through and most dove hunters will move on to other game birds.

But don’t overlook dove hunting the late season. Somewhere to the north of you, hundreds of hunters are probably experiencing the same thing. That means the birds they’ve lost are likely headed your way.

Finding yourself in the middle of a good dove migration can mean seeing hundreds, if not thousands, of birds. I’ve had hunts with morning limits pretty much filled before the first rays of sunlight covered the cornfield we were hunting.

One mid-September afternoon, four of us surrounded a small water hole on the Kansas prairie and watched as a massive cold front with heavy rain came in from the northwest. For two hours there was never a time when there weren’t southbound doves in sight. Limits of 15 came so fast. The last five minutes of legal shooting light, guns already cased, I counted more than 100 doves that passed within shotgun range.

But migrating doves aren’t prone to hanging around long, so don’t waste time. If your mid- or late-season scouting turns up a flock covering a field of freshly cut corn on Sunday night, you’d better call in sick on Monday morning. —M.P.

Dove Hunting Q&A: Your Dove Questions, Answered

Why is dove hunting so good in Argentina?

Doves thrive in Argentina because the country is full of perfect habitat for them. The brush country of Argentina provides ideal nesting cover. The expansive grain fields provide plenty of feed. The mild winters make it easy for doves to survive.

How many doves are there in the U.S.?

There were approximately 194 million doves in the U.S. as of 1 September 2020, according to the USFWS.

What is the best food plot for dove?

Sunflowers and wheat are the two most common fields that dove hunters plant, but you can also plant sorghum, millet, and milo for dove hunting success. A lot of hunters favor sunflower plots because they are easy to grow.

The post Dove Hunting Ultimate Guide: Tips and Tactics for Bagging More Birds appeared first on Outdoor Life.

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IF I COULD BE REINCARNATED, I’d come back as a used-car salesman,” Ramsey Russell says to me.

It’s 5 a.m., and we’re barreling down a dark highway in Obregon, Mexico. Russell, 53, is explaining how it would be easier to sell used cars than the international waterfowl hunts he deals with in his current gig as a booking agent (though he hates that term). I’m pretty sure he’s only half kidding.

“People go in to buy a car, and they know what they want,” he says. “Me, I’ve got to sell the experience.”

Later that morning, a handful of other writers,  some reps from Benelli, and I enjoy the most epic pintail shoot I’ll ever be a part of. Drakes in their breeding plumage, long sprigs trailing behind, float out of the clear-blue sky and cup into a decoy spread set along a tidal beach. Tucked into a mangrove blind, my hunting partner and I take turns shooting until we have our limits, then we sit back and watch the spectacle of teal, wigeon, pintails, redheads, and shorebirds whip down the shoreline. By the time we get picked up for lunch, we’re sold on the Ramsey Russell experience.

We’re here on the west coast of Mexico hunting wintering ducks thanks to Russell’s connection to Frank Ruiz, an outfitter who turned his family home into a hunting lodge.

Russell sends his clients to outfitters like Ruiz all over the world. Classic wingshooting destinations such as Mexico and Argentina are entry-level trips for Russell’s hunters. Think more exotic: shelducks in Mongolia, garganey in Azerbaijan, barnacle geese in the Netherlands, red-billed teal in South Africa. Russell hunts all of these destinations before he sends clients to them. 

Not all of his trips are  high-volume shoots like the one we experienced in Mexico. On an Alaska king eider hunt, for example, you shoot only a few ducks per day. What all of Russell’s hunts have in common, though, is that they are a blend of adventure travel and species-collecting expedition. 

And the trips are not as expensive as you might think. An average hunt costs about $6,000, which isn’t chump change, but it’s still cheaper than almost any international big-game hunt, Russell reasons on our drive back after the morning shoot. His mission is to create a passion (and a market) for adventure waterfowl hunting. He wants to foster a shift away from the posh international hunt clubs. 

“These are duck hunts for real duck hunters,” Russell says. “You’re not traveling around the world to smoke fat cigars and eat edible art. You’re going to hunt. If you want all that other shit, take your wife to Italy.”

Life Is Short

Like any great outfitter, guide, or booking agent, Russell can cut up with a group of new hunters as if they’re old buddies. He knows that if a hunt isn’t going well and tensions are high, a good joke or witty story can save the day. Over the years, he’s developed an arsenal of quips:

“My favorite duck is the next one over the decoys”—for when pintails aren’t working, but shovelers are dive-bombing into the decoys. 

“I’d agree with you, but then we’d both be wrong”—for defusing an argument with a client.

“It’s like walking through the pages of National Geographic with a shotgun”—for selling the idea of a hunt in a far-flung destination.

Russell was born in Mississippi, where his grandpa taught him to love hunting and fishing. He was tagging along on dove hunts at 8 years old. Soon enough, he was immersed in the world of duck hunting Mississippi River backwaters. Then, when he was 15, Russell was nearly killed in a freak accident. He was cleaning a paintbrush with gasoline when a water-heater pilot light caught the fumes and erupted in a fiery explosion. Russell suffered second– and third-degree burns on three-quarters of his body, but he beat the 8 percent chance of survival the doctors gave him.

Most of us save the concept of “bucket-list trips” for the twilight of our hunting career. We’re only willing to roll the dice once we acknowledge that time is running out. But Russell faced his own mortality when he was a kid. During a long, torturous recovery, the teenager forged a saying that became his personal creed and would later become his business slogan: “Life is short, get ducks.”

Eventually, Russell earned a forestry degree and landed a job with the federal government. When he worked up enough scratch, he started traveling to hunt waterfowl in Canada and Argentina. He made his first international trip to Saskatchewan in 1998. 

Russell has the ideal temperament to captain a crew of duck hunters. He’s intense enough to make sure everyone brings their A-game (“Turn off the damn phone and play for keeps”), but he’s also experienced enough to know that the whole point of the thing is to have a good time—and he’s unabashed about his love for shooting ducks (“Hell yeah, shooting ducks is fun, and hell yeah, it’s conservation”). So, Russell had no problem recruiting buddies to go with him abroad. He started bringing so many other hunters along that an outfitter convinced him to open a part-time booking–agency business. Then, in 2010, Russell went full-time with his site, getducks.com.

Greenheads International

Russell has learned some straightforward lessons during his world travels: Don’t drink the milk in Pakistan, and keep your firearms documentation on your person when you go through customs in China. 

But the biggest takeaway cuts deeper, to the culture of American waterfowl hunting. Generally, we kill fewer ducks per hunt than you can almost anywhere else in the world, and yet we’re the ones obsessed with numbers.

That’s because the strict limits on how many ducks and how many of each species we can kill forces American waterfowlers to be careful counters. Each dead bird is one notch closer to a limit. A full limit means the end of the hunt, and complete success.

As Russell says: “It’s almost like if you only shoot three ducks, you lost. It’s made to feel like if you’re not killing a limit, you’re not having fun.”

Of course, these limits are good and necessary for conservation. In the U.S., we have much higher hunter-density numbers than in other parts of the world. There are about 1 million U.S. waterfowlers. In comparison, only a few hundred Americans travel to the Yaqi Valley in Mexico to hunt ducks each winter, according to Russell. Those few hundred hunters end up harvesting a statistically insignificant number of ducks, even if they’re bringing back a whole pile of birds each day.

In the rest of the world, waterfowl hunting for sport isn’t as common, and neither are limits or hunting pressure. In some corners of the world, you set your own limit. One of Russell’s hunts in Pakistan drives home the point.

He was invited by a feudal lord to hunt a sprawling marsh along the Indus River (one of the longest rivers in Asia, which serves as a major flyway). The lord had heard that the American was a crack shot, so he made his way down to the blind to watch. He gave Russell a few boxes of shells from his personal stash—German-made, 3-inch lead loads—and insisted that Russell take long shots that most American hunters would consider sky blasting. 

“If you want to hunt in Pakistan, you must shoot like a Pakistani,” the lord said. 

So, Russell started burning through shells, and once he got the long lead figured out, birds rained from the sky. Russell wasn’t counting but figures he killed more ducks that day than most American waterfowlers shoot in a season. Each bird was recovered diligently (meat doesn’t go to waste in Pakistan), and Russell was immersed in a totally different hunting culture. To the Pakistanis, the most important aspect of the hunt was shooting ability.

The upshot? You can’t travel halfway across the world and expect locals to have the same hunting values as you do. 

And over time, Russell’s clients have developed new hunting values.

“In the beginning, the number-one question clients would ask is, ‘How many ducks can I shoot?’” Russell says. “Now hardly anyone asks that. Now everyone wants to know which species are present and what the experience is going to be like.”

But no matter how far you travel, in many ways duck hunters are all the same. 

“Mallards are the big prize bird anywhere they exist in the world,” he says. “It doesn’t matter if it’s Mongolia or Missouri.” 

Many times, Russell hunts with locals who speak a different language from him. This minimizes the small talk, but they still communicate through hand signals and gestures in the duck hunter’s common language: Fix the hide, the ducks are flaring; tweak the spread, they’re not committing close enough; good shot, here come some more birds.

“You can put four people from anywhere in the world together in a blind, and they’ll have more in common than they’ll have differences, because they’re hunters.”

The Next Migration

On our last day in Mexico, we opt to hunt Pacific brant in a tidal flat of the Sea of Cortez. Shortly after sunrise, the birds beeline for our decoys, low and tight, flying like giant black teal in slow motion. After two volleys, Russell’s 9-year-old Lab, Cooper, has a pile of retrieving work to do. Cooper is a registered service dog, and she’s traveled the world  with Russell. This is the last big tour of her career. 

Next, we head to a backwater to hunt teal, and for the first time, Russell sets aside his shotgun. 

As we pick off teal one at a time, Cooper methodically plucks our birds out of the marsh. She needs no direction from Russell, and is mostly too deaf to hear him anyway. She retrieves because it’s in her blood. It’s what she’s always done.

Meanwhile, Russell contemplates the future of waterfowling. He plans to target millennials with his international duck-hunting trips. This demographic has proven willing to spend more on travel than any other expense. He’s banking on the idea that the groups of hardcore young guns you see patrolling the goose fields of every Midwest town will one day want to chase birds in Canada, Mexico, or Russia. 

Getting this next generation of hunters excited about waterfowling and conservation on a global scale, he hopes, will be his legacy. 

“Someday, I don’t want my headstone to read, ‘Here lies Ramsey Russell: One million dead ducks,’ ” Russell says. “There has to be more to it than that. Don’t you think?” 

This story originally ran in the Fall 2019 issue. Read more OL+ stories.

The post This Old-School Duck Slayer Is Opening New Hunting Opportunities Around the World for Americans appeared first on Outdoor Life.

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In many ways, the wild tom turkey is underrated as a big game animal. He’s got excellent eyesight and hair-trigger instincts that have helped him avoid hunters and spread all across the country. Public land turkey hunting increases the challenge even more. Typically, public land toms gobble less, they frequent fields less regularly, and hang up outside of shotgun range more often. Plus, you’ve got to compete with other turkey hunters who are out hammering the same ground as you.

All of this means that turkey hunting success rates are lower than you might expect. Take my home state of Minnesota for example. We’re covered up with birds and habitat. But the hunter success rate for the spring season hovers around 30 percent. That means two out of three Minnesota turkey hunters are going skunked this spring.

So if you’re planning to hunt turkeys on public land and you don’t want to be among the 70 percent of hunters who will be eating turkey tag soup, then follow this ultimate guide to public land turkey hunting.

Where to Find Public Land Near Me?

Finding a good public land hunting spot is the key to success. You want to hunt where the turkeys are and other hunters aren’t. The search begins online. Use a mapping app like onX or Huntstand to identify public lands near you. Also check your state’s public land website (just Google the name of your state and “public hunting land”). Here are some common (and some underrated) land types that often offer public turkey hunting (check local regs before hunting):

• State wildlife management areas
• State forests
• National forests
• Bureau of Land Management land
• National wildlife refuges
• National scenic riverways
• Waterfowl production areas (non-toxic shot only)
• Walk-in access or voluntary public access areas
• Open forest crop
• County-owned forest land

Once you find public land parcels that look promising, it’s time to evaluate each one more thoroughly. Read my full guide on how to scout turkeys here.

Ideally, you’ll find an area that is hard for other hunters to reach. This means areas they are far from a parking lot or road, across a creek or stream, or on the backside of a steep ridge. Check out the screen shot below. This is just what you’re looking for: an hilly hardwoods surrounded by private land and it’s accessible only from the river. Most hunters are not going to go through the trouble of jumping in a kayak or canoe to access this piece of land. And this is precisely what makes these types of places so perfect. (Always double check your local access laws).

Terrain Features and Habitat

Toms love open fields and green meadows where they can display for hens and feed on bugs or leftover crops. But on public lands, these areas tend to get pounded. Many public land hunters will simply walk to the first field they can get to, set up some decoys, and then spend the morning waiting for a tom to strut in. This is unlikely to work on pressured public lands. Look for these areas instead:

Secluded Hardwoods

Get back into the woods where toms will be spending most of their time. Look for open hardwood flats that are secluded and hard to access. Search for roost sites along the way. Mature oaks are ideal, and since oaks often hold their leaves longer than other hardwood trees, you can identify stands of oak through the satellite view on digital maps if you sort by month (look at November and December).

Funnels

Turkeys will travel through pinch points in the terrain just like rutting bucks will. This might look like a strip of timber between two waterways, a saddle between two ridge tops, or a flat between a river and a steep hillside. Look for turkey sign in these areas, they’re good places to setup midmorning.

Small Open Areas

Avoid the big, popular fields everyone else is hunting and focus on smaller, less obvious openings where toms might want to strut. This could be an intersection of two old logging roads, an abandoned homestead, or an area that was burned or logged the previous season. If you can find one of these spots well off the beaten path, it will likely attract turkeys.

Calling and Decoying Public Land Turkeys

Most of the guys I hear in the public turkey woods are not great callers (full disclosure: I’m no Will Primos, either). Luckily, you don’t have to be a great caller to kill a whole bunch of turkeys. If you know you’re not an expert caller (or even if you flat out suck), you can be successful by setting up where the tom wants to be and then giving him some light yelps and clucks. If he likes it, give him a little more. If he doesn’t respond with enthusiasm, then you should stop calling. Curiosity might draw him, but a whole run of crappy calling won’t.

When it comes to bad turkey calling, a little goes a long way. If you can’t make even the best turkey mouth call sound like a real hen, then for God’s sake leave it in the truck. A slate call will draw the bird in, and a simple push-button call (which you can run with your shotgun shouldered) will pull him those last few yards into shooting range. When turkey hunting on public land, try to get close to a gobbler (within 200 yards or so depending on how thick the cover is) before calling to him. Most of the time it’s unlikely to call in a bird from a mile away on public land. And getting a turkey to gobble over and over from long range will only draw other hunters to him.

Be ultra careful with turkey decoys on public land. Do not use reaping decoys while hunting turkeys on public ground. Personally, I won’t use a tom decoy on public land either. There are simply too many other hunters around and it’s not worth the risk of them mistaking your decoy for the real thing. I also think that many hunters are too reliant on decoys. You know those videos you’ve seen on hunting TV or Youtube of a big tom strutting in to jump on a turkey decoy at close range? Yeah, that rarely (never?) happens with pressured public land turkeys. I prefer to set up in a spot in the woods where I know turkeys like to be and set out no decoys at all. If I decide to hunt a public land field, I’ll run two or three hen decoys.

Public Land Turkey Hunting Tips

Walk slowly, stop often, listen closely. Far too many hunters bomb through public land scaring turkeys as they go. When you’re moving through areas were turkeys are likely to be, walk as slowly as you can (then slow down even more). Stop and scan for strutters in the distance. Always listen closely for far off gobbles (especially after crows, owls, or coyotes sound off).

Hunt mid-morning and midday (if legal). Most other hunters will be out of the woods by then but those gobblers are still out there. Sometimes midday gobblers that have lost or bred their hens are the easiest ones to kill.

Find the roosts. Even though calling a bird right off the roost and into gun range rarely works, it’s still useful to know where gobblers roost. It gives you an idea of where birds will be first thing in the morning and where they’ll be in the evenings.

Talk to the other hunters you meet. If you see other hunters in the parking lot or on the trail, be nice and chat them up. Find out where they intend to hunt and let them know where you’re planning to hunt. It’s far better to work together than compete for the same bird. If you’re both targeting the same birds, consider hunting with each other instead of against each other.

Use trail cameras (if legal). If it’s legal to run trail cameras on the type of public land you’re hunting, you should do it. This will give you intel and when and where turkeys are moving. Just make sure the cameras are in places other hunters are unlikely to stumble into them. And, read our guide on how to use trail cameras for turkey hunting.

Read gobbler behavior. Most of the time public land toms will be sneaky and elusive. They won’t come into your set up gobbling and strutting. These birds take more patience to kill. So if a tom gobbles at one or two of your calls and then goes quiet, don’t be discouraged. There’s a very good chance he’s coming in silently. Give birds like this more time. On the flip side, when you encounter a fired up tom, get aggressive. Call actively and quickly get ready to shoot. This is the bird you’ve been hoping to hear.

Common Public Land Turkey Hunting Mistakes to Avoid

I’ve screwed up my fair share of public land turkey hunts, but I’ve learned from those bone-headed mistakes. If you’re struggling with public land hunts this spring, avoid making the following mistakes:

Don’t Hunt the Obvious Birds

Turkeys that you can hear gobble from the parking lot, birds you can glass from a busy road, birds that roost at the end of a walking trail. Forget ’em. Any public land gobbler that seems too good to be true, probably is. If you were able to find them without much effort, other hunters certainly will too.

If you spend your morning setting up on these “easy” birds, you’re almost guaranteed to bump in to other hunters and your enjoyable outing in the woods is going to get frustrating quick. It might seem crazy to pass up turkeys to find turkeys, but you’re much better off hunting birds that other guys aren’t messing with. Just like deer hunting on public land, you’ve got to do a little extra walking to get away from the crowds. Also, you’d be surprised how many turkey hunters won’t cross a creek or a marsh. Wader up and find birds that haven’t been called to yet.

Don’t Stop Scouting During the Season

The most successful waterfowlers spend way more time scouting than they do hunting. When they do commit to a hunt, it’s usually a great shoot. Take a page from their book and sacrifice a couple days of hunting to relocate birds. This is especially useful during midseason when those birds you scouted before the season have been bumped, buggered, or killed. Taking an early-morning drive and hitting as many locations as possible will help you find fresh birds and new spots.

Don’t Keep Sitting in the Same Old Blind

I’m amazed at how many hunters will pick a field edge to hunt for the season and just wait… and wait. There’s no doubt that sitting a field edge with decoys can be an effective way to kill turkeys. But on public land, the dynamics are always changing. Your go-to spot can get blown out without you even knowing it. So instead of stubbornly waiting in an area that used to have turkeys, change as the conditions change.

Try new, out-of-the-way spots. One of my best public-land spots is a hardwood peninsula that juts out into a big cattail marsh. Gobblers roost in the hardwoods and can’t get off the peninsula without walking by me. The best thing about it is I’ve never seen anyone else hunt it. But, I never would have found that spot if I hadn’t left a more popular piece of public ground to search for new birds.

Don’t Be So Damn Loud

Public land turkeys get blown off roosts. By the second week of the season they know that headlamps and boots tromping through the leaves mean trouble. Sometimes, birds that hear the noisy approach of a hunter won’t blow off the roost right away, but they’ll go quiet. Then they’ll fly down and slip away to safety.

Often times the hunter thinks the birds were henned-up and uncooperative. In reality, they were spooked. So on calm, quiet spring mornings, sneak in like a ninja when you plan to hunt near a roost. Leave earlier than you need to, so you don’t have to rush. Leave the blind at home and go as light as possible, so your extraneous gear won’t get caught up in the brush and make a racket. Turn your headlamp well before you get close to the spot. Tiptoe to within 100 yards of the roost and there’s a good chance the gobbler will fly down right in your lap.

Legendary turkey hunter Ray Eye once told me a story about a tom in Missouri that he and his buddies just couldn’t seem to kill. After a week of blown attempts, Ray decided to sneak in on the roosted bird at zero dark thirty. He took off his boots when he got close and crept toward the roost tree in his socks, guided only by the light of the moon. Then he waited silently for hours until sunrise. Eventually, the tom flew down and Ray shot him when his feet touched the ground. I’m sure parts of that story have been stretched over the years, but the lesson is a good one: be quiet and get there early.

Don’t Get Discouraged When the Hunting Gets Tough

Sometimes it seems like everybody and their 10-year-old kid has already got their bird. Plus, with all the Facebook and Youtube videos of suicidal toms charging in to decoys, it can be easy to forget that turkey hunting can actually get pretty challenging. So don’t get discouraged when your first couple outings don’t go as planned. Keep changing up your tactics and enjoy those early mornings and late nights, because it’s only a matter of time before that old tom slinks in to range.

How to Get Permission on Private Land

Sometimes it’s nice to have a go-to private land spot if you’re striking out on public ground. Farmers are often more willing to grant permission for turkey hunting than they are for deer hunting, which is a blessing and a curse—because there’s a good chance somebody else already has permission to hunt the place. So start your private land search the same way you’d start your public land search: Use a digital mapping app to locate likely turkey habitat that’s off the beaten path. Look for hardwood ridges near agricultural fields, river bottoms that might hold good roost trees, and timber points that jut out into corn or soybean fields. Mark all your potential new hunting locations and make sure to record the landowners’ addresses.

Then spend a couple afternoons in late winter knocking on doors. Don’t show up during dinner time or on Sunday morning when folks might be getting ready for church. Be friendly and upfront. Tell the landowner you’d like to hunt the place for spring turkeys only, you won’t rut up the fields, you won’t hunt near the cattle, and you won’t have a whole crew of other guys hunting with you. If the landowner declines (no matter what the reason), don’t argue or try to persuade him or her, just say “thanks for the time” and be on your way. Remember: Farmers don’t owe you anything. They’d be letting you hunt their land and not really getting anything in return. Also, local landowners talk to each other. You can earn a reputation in an area quickly, for better or worse.

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Many of the best duck hunters I know cut their teeth on public land, particularly walk-ins. These are some of the toughest places to kill waterfowl consistently because access is easy if you’re willing to to put in the effort. But it can be downright exhausting. It’s typically a long walk down a muddy levee, and if it’s cold enough, and the water is frozen, there’s more hard work in front of you. But that’s what makes this kind of hunting so rewarding—you have to sweat for ducks, and when you get’em there’s no better feeling.

At almost 40 years old, I still love walk-in hunting. I don’t do as many death marches anymore, but it’s fun to get out there on days when I know my brother and I have a shot at killing a few birds. That’s the key to enjoying walk-in hunting: Don’t go unless you think it will be good. It will burn you out quick, logging all those miles with too much gear in-tow, and returning with empty game straps.

This is the stuff I have accumulated over years of chasing ducks—mostly shovelers and ringnecks—in some of the most mediocre duck habitat around. But bottom line is that it works…and I wouldn’t walk-in hunt without it.

Upgrade Your Truck Tires

You might be wondering why in the hell you need a good set of truck tires for walk-in hunting. Fair question. Well, in my experience, walk-ins are the most neglected of public habitats by state agencies. You typically have to drive through some pretty sloppy/sketchy terrain to get to the parking lot, which is often a mud pit. Many times I have arrived on cold mornings when the ground is frozen and returned to a sloppy mess in the afternoon once the sun comes out. Stock tires will not get you unstuck. This year, I’ve been running Toyo’s Open Country A/T III tires. They’ve gotten me out of plenty of hairy situations when I might have otherwise needed a tow. If you drop the tire pressure down to around 20 to 25 pounds, I’m convinced they could get your truck out of quicksand. Dropping tire pressure is key if you’re stuck, and it can easily be done. Just don’t go so low that your tires are flat. And don’t feel like you have to buy Toyo. They have been great for me, but Tire Rack has plenty of options to select from, and the prices honestly aren’t that much higher than the on-road tire that came with your truck. So spend a few extra dollars and save yourself the aggravation. There’s nothing worse than getting skunked and then stuck in the marsh with no cell service.

Another Set of Wheels

No legit walk-in hunter carries all the gear in on his back. You need a cart. It will make your walks in and out infinitely easier. A few years ago, I bought a Rogers Toughman Decoy Dolly (it’s rated for 600 pounds, so my brother can haul me and the decoys out), and it’s definitely the reason I’m still a walk-in hunter. There are a variety of carts on the market, and you can also build one, but with the time and money you have to invest in the construction of one, you’re better off buying in my opinion. If you’re deadest on engineering your own, here is a deer cart build that will work. I typically hunt with one other person—or solo—and can put all our gear on the cart, no problem. The one thing you have to be leery of is mud. Carts don’t like it. The mud will get caught up in the wheels so badly that they won’t be able to turn and then you are stuck hauling all your stuff back to the truck in multiple trips.

Float a Jet Sled

I couple the cart with a Jet Sled, which holds all my gear and fits perfectly into the Toughman. Beavertail and Momarsh also make good sleds, and Cabela’s still sells ice fishing sleds, but they aren’t as durable. I put the Jet Sled in the bed of my truck, load it up, and then once I’m ready to unload it, I get the cart down first, open it up and prop it up against the tailgate of my truck so I can slide the sled in myself without physically picking it up. The versatility of the sled is what you really need it for. Remember I talked about it being too muddy for the cart? Well, if you drill two holes in the front of the sled (don’t drill into the bottom or you will spring a leak) and run a rope through the holes, you now have a handle, and can pretty easily drag the sled through the mud. Another bonus is once you hit the water, just jettison the sled from the cart and take it with you. It makes throwing decoys easier, and if the water levels are high it’s a good place to keep any extra gear, like jackets and blind bags, from getting wet.

Bring the Snow Shovel

Some of the best mornings come after the temperature dips below 32 degrees the night before. I always love to hunt a cold snap, because it moves ducks. The issue on public land is there’s no way to keep water open, so you’re likely going to be dealing with some skim ice. Ducks don’t like that, so I bring my dad’s old carpenter’s hammer and a snow shovel with a 2-foot wide scoop on it. If the ice has gotten thick enough that it needs to be broken up, I go to work with the hammer and make a hole. Then, I’ll come in with the snow shovel and push all the ice out. I get a lot of odd looks from other hunters, and hear guys say “why the hell does that guy have a snow shovel?” But the same hunters have come and found me to ask if they can use it once we are in the marsh. I always oblige. Sure, I would probably kill more ducks having the only open hole, but it’s bad duck juju to ruin someone else’s hunt because they came unprepared. Plus, I run into the same groups of hunters a lot, and you never know when you’re going to need their help.

Go Light on Decoys

I like to have the option to run as many decoys as I can (up to five dozen), and the key to success on public land is showing ducks a spread they haven’t seen before. About half my spread is butt-up feeders. They are light, take up less space than full-bodies, and mimic ducks feeding, which is more natural than a blob of head-up decoys, which is what most of your competition is going to be running. For full-body floaters, I go with the Avian-X Topflight series, because they are fully flocked and have a mix of head-up and low-head feeders. I use mallards, pintails, green-wing teal, wigeon, and black ducks, depending on the time of year. Variety is a key ingredient to killing pressured public waterfowl, and you should always have a few black ducks in your spread on sunny days. They stand out so much more than any other decoy with their dark bodies.

If I have a really long walk in, but need a large decoy footprint, I go with inflatable decoys from Lucky Duck and Dakota Decoy. Or, Lifetime has the FlexFloat mallards that are hollow in the middle, so they cut down on weight. I rig all my decoys with 3- or 4-ounce weights so they are lighter. If you hunt shallow rivers, that might be a poor choice depending on the strength of the current. You’re better off with a heavier mushroom decoy weight that buries itself into the river bottom. Mallard silhouettes are awesome if you are hunting ankle-deep water, or want to add more decoys in the shallows or on river sandbars. You can easily pack in 50 silhouettes and create a much more realistic rig than your neighbors.

Every decoy spread needs motion, and I typically run two spinning-wing decoys. I don’t use mallards because they are bigger and more cumbersome. Go with teal, wood ducks or gadwall. They are just as effective and take up less space. On-water motion is also key to a good spread. My best results have been with Wonderduck. The quality is unmatched. Many of the on-water decoys are junk. They fill up with water or don’t float. I’ve never had that issue with Wonderduck. Plus, they are built like tanks. Mojo’s Flock a Flickers are good too. They are a cheap way for creating motion and they don’t take up much room. Jerk rigs are one of the best ways to create decoy motion on windless days, and they will never run out of batteries or malfunction, like electronic decoys sometimes do. Ducks also get conditioned to avoid spinners as the season goes along, but they will never grow wary of the jerk rig.

RELATED: 5 Keys to Killing Reverse Migration Mallards and Geese

Dress in Layers

I still see a lot of hunters wearing blue jeans and squeezing into Neoprene waders. God bless them, but most don’t last too long on the cold days. No matter the temperature, if you wear Neoprene waders you’re going to sweat on the walk in. You will be warm for a while, but then that sweat becomes the enemy as the morning drags on, and chills you to the bone. I wear a pair of breathable Orvis front-zip waders with a rubber-soled wading boot, and depending on the weather will wear one to three pairs of longjohns. Or I put on a Merino baselayer and wear an old (warm) pair of sweatpants. But before I walk out, I shove the sweatpants in a blind bag. I might be a little cold on the way in, but that beats having to leave early because I sweated my ass off on the walk in and the wind is crystalizing that perspiration to my skin. The wader/boot combo is a bit pricey, but I’ve had them for five years now without a leak, and the grip I get with the boots is far superior than the sole of any wader boot I have come across.

I don’t put a jacket on when walking into the marsh either. And typically I don’t even wear a parka unless it gets real cold. Most public water is going to be frozen up solid anyways if it gets to the point where I need a winter coat. I like to wear two or three baselayers (one of which will be Merino), and add a vest to keep my core warm. Sometimes I’ll just go with a Merino layer, Carhartt hooded sweatshirt and the vest (but always bring a jacket along in case it turns cold, or you fall in and need a dry/warm outer layer). The key is you want to be able to shed layers during those walks in and out without having to carry around a bunch of bulky clothes.

Take a Pump Shotgun

My favorite gun is an old semiauto Beretta, but I typically don’t take it with me to the walk-in. It’s reliable, but autoloaders have more moving parts than a pump-action, so there is a higher likelihood they will fail. And I don’t need a breakdown after walking in over a mile. A Remington 870 20-gauge is my ideal walk-in gun because it’s lighter than a 12-gauge and will function flawlessly. You can likely find a used one for less than $300 at a local gun shop. Pump guns are also damn durable, and public land is often harder on guns than private duck clubs. So you want something that can take a dip in the marsh and still run properly. You might not get that from an autoloader. There is no worse feeling than getting up at 3 a.m., doing all the work it takes to set up, and having your shotgun malfunction when the first flock comes in.

The post The Ultimate Walk-In Duck Hunting Gear I Can’t Live Without appeared first on Outdoor Life.

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