Hunting and Fishing News Blog Articles

The author fishing in the Tongass National Forest. (Ian Allen/)

It doesn’t take much to get Mark Hieronymus worked up. We’re walking down an old logging road next to a creek outside of Juneau, and the guide is going back and forth on the two hottest topics in Alaska: fishing and logging.

“We’re going to fish that sexy little beast on the way back,” he says as we pass a deep pool. “Always Dollys in there.”

If you were to imagine an Alaska flyfishing guide, you’d conjure up something close to Hieronymus: flat-brim hat pulled down over dark shades, bushy beard, gravelly voice, and descended from a line of Pacific Northwest fishermen. He grew up fighting steelhead on the rivers of Puget Sound and then chased better fishing and job opportunities to Alaska in 1988. Like most people who spend their lives on a river, his personality shifts from laid-back to intense, depending on the topic of discussion.

The Trump Administration and governor Mike Dunleavy have reignited interests in old-growth logging in this region. So eventually I ask Hieronymus about the perspective that it’s mostly outside environmentalists who are hell-bent on fighting logging—not real Alaskans. That’s when I see his fiery side.

He shoots back with some facts about the timber industry supporting less than 1 percent of the jobs in the region. Meanwhile, tourism (which includes hunting and fishing) and the seafood industry make up 25 percent of the jobs there, according to Trout Unlimited, the nonprofit that Hieronymus also works for. He says the call to revive logging in southeast Alaska is used as a political football that legislators toss around to fire up their base and win elections.

The fight to keep Minnesota’s Boundary Waters safe rages on the heels of a new bipartisan bill trying to protect the area from copper mining. (Alex Robinson/)

Water pollution doesn’t recognize boundaries, so hunters and anglers are singing the praises of new federal legislation that would protect northern Minnesota’s Boundary Waters Canoe Area Wilderness from a copper mine proposed on the doorstep of this famous wilderness area.

The Boundary Waters is probably the most frequently visited unit in the United States Wilderness System. Long famous among outdoorsmen and women, the area provides backcountry deer hunting, along with lake fishing and opportunities for rugged canoe adventures in the Superior National Forest.

However, Twin Metals Minnesota, owned by a Chilean-based mining company, proposed developing a sulfide-ore copper mine immediately upstream from the Boundary Waters. According to the plan, the mine would extract 180 million tons of ore near the Rainy River, which flows into the Boundary Waters. As is often the case with mining, the concern is not so much the hole itself, as the pollution risk associated with treating the ore with chemicals to leach out particles of minerals and heavy metals.

Today, a bipartisan group of lawmakers in Congress introduced the Boundary Waters Wilderness Protection and Pollution Prevention Act (H.R. 5598). If passed, the bill would permanently protect the Boundary Waters Canoe Area Wilderness and interconnected public lands and waters located within the watershed.

Lead sponsors of the bill are Reps. Betty McCollum (D-MN) and Francis Rooney (R-FL) with support from original co-sponsors Reps. Fred Upton (R-MI), Dean Phillips (D-MN), Alan Lowenthal (D-CA), and Raul Grijalva (D-AZ).

If you get lost in the wilderness, finding shelter is a first priority. (USFWS/)

A survival shelter can be something you build, with tools or your barehands. It can also be something you find, ready-to-use and provided by nature. Since exposure is one of the top threats in a wilderness survival setting, learning how to find shelter quickly can save your life. The landscape can provide many different kinds of shelters if you just know where to look.

1. Brush and Thickets

We can’t always eat the same wild plants or drink the same water as the wild animals do, but we can take a page from their playbook when it comes to finding shelter. Natural vegetative cover does a lot more than just hide animals from predators. It provides a break to get out of the wind and it can also block some of the rain. In bad weather, you may find that many animals have moved to thickets and other brushy areas for protection. You don’t need to get lost in a briar patch, but take advantage of these wind breaks to find a “microclimate” that feels better than being exposed. A great choice for year-round protection is a thicket of evergreen vegetation. This can deflect the bad weather, even in the winter months. For summer relief, the shade of a brushy canopy can block some of the heat and scorching light from the hot summer sun. As a final thought, when choosing a location for a survival camp, there’s nothing wrong with setting up on the leeward side (the downwind side) of brush and thickets, as they can block the wind that would sweep through your camp day or night.

2. Fallen Logs And Trees

It’s a pity when huge trees fall, but this is a natural part of any forest ecosystem. This opening in the canopy allows light to reach the forest floor and it brings an opportunity for new plants to grow. The trunk and attached disk of roots and soil may fall in such a way that it provides a small measure of protection, especially when the wind and weather are coming from the right direction. It’s not as snug as a hut or a tent, but when you’re in need of a place call “home”, there may be a dry space underneath the trunk or behind the root ball. Inspect it carefully before deciding on using it as a shelter, making sure these structures have moved to their final position and are in no danger of falling down further.

Coffey and Little Stubby with a day's worth of squirrels on the tailgate. (Colin Moore /)

“If that dog trees, you can believe there’s a squirrel up there somewhere.”

Harold Knight sounds convinced as he heads toward the source of the commotion. Voicing an unbroken series of chopping barks, Little Stubby, a mountain feist squirrel dog, is standing on his short hind legs with his forepaws leaning against a tall white oak. He followed a gray squirrel’s scent line or he saw it scamper up the oak. Either way, he’s positive.

More frantic barks implore the hunters to hurry up. Ronnie Coffey and Jeff Cochran are armed with 20-gauge shotguns loaded with high-brass No. 6s and Knight with a very deadly .17 HMR bolt-action Savage. Coffey and Cochran handle the runners and jumpers, while Knight takes care of the bushytails that decide to hunker down.

Little Stubby continues to fidget around the tree as Cochran arrives and begins to shake a grapevine trailing down from the oak. The ensuing commotion in the leafless canopy causes the squirrel to scramble upward a few more feet. This squirrel’s gray coat plastered against the trunk isn’t easy to spot, but Knight finds it through his scope. Knight yells out that he sees it and draws a bead. The rifle cracks and the bushytail tumbles down through the branches.

Hunting Squirrels in the Winter

National critter-specific organizations have helped restore populations of everything from ducks to elk. But the first groups devoted to outdoor activity were hyper-local social clubs. (USFWS/)

Editor’s Note: This is the second of a four-part series on Hunting Editor Andrew McKean’s efforts to ditch the national conservation organization banquets and start a more effective local group in his hometown of Glasgow, Montana. | Read part one here.

In the first part of this series, I described how a number of us local volunteers arrived at the idea to step away from our service to national species-specific conservation and instead devote our time and energy to local needs around our hometown of Glasgow, Mont. Our plan was to do this through a new group called the Hi-Line Sportsmen.

The local conservation club is not a new idea. In fact, it’s an idea nearly as old as America’s citizen conservation movement.

The first groups devoted to the promotion of outdoor activity were hyper-local social clubs. Conservation of animals and their habitats was secondary to enjoyment of resources. But with the depletion of game in the early years of the 20th century, followed by the environmental reckoning of the Dust Bowl, America’s modern conservation movement took hold with the creation of the National Wildlife Federation. The national organization created affiliate chapters in thousands of towns around the country, and those local clubs built shooting ranges, organized outings to do things like build duck-nesting platforms and release pheasants, and—most importantly—lobby for the creation of state game agencies to protect and enhance the resources by applying scientific wildlife management principles.

It’s a helluva testament to the success of this model that we have the surplus of game animals that we currently enjoy. Sure, it’s easy to bash your local wildlife biologist or to gripe about your state agency’s bureaucracy, but we came close to not having any wild animals at all, or to having the ability as citizens to participate in the management of our wildlife.

A winter haul of blackfish from the New Jersey coast. (Joe Cermele / Field & Stream/)

We call it “scratching.” It’s a delicate nibbling of the bait, as if the fish is gently chipping away at the edges of a potato chip without ingesting the spud in one bite. It’s a green crab that’s being “scratched,” though, and in the ideal scenario, a scratch turns into a thump as the tautog—aka ’tog or blackfish—finally commits to inhaling the crustacean. But many times, that crab gets scratched right off the hook as if by magic. So, you start swinging on the scratch. And you just keep coming up empty. It can be insanely frustrating.

If you don’t live near the coast between Maine and North Carolina, there’s a good possibility you’ve never even heard of blackfish. They’re part of the wrasse family, and they live in hard structure, such as rocks, reefs, and wrecks. With a bulbous head and big, conical buckteeth, blackfish might not be the prettiest gamefish in the Atlantic, but they fight like demons, chew on the coldest days, and are one of the most delicious fish you can put on the table, thanks to their strict diet of clams, mussels, shrimp, and crabs. If you’re willing to give these weirdos a shot, the pointers below will help you secure a winter dinner you won’t forget.

Scratched Out

What’s actually happening when you feel a scratch is that the fish is sort of preparing your crab—or chunk of crab—for swallowing. It crunches the bait a few times, then inhales the mashed-up meal. The problem is that the process often works the bait right off the hook, so you’re waiting to feel a solid jolt, and it never comes. Though it takes some practice to dial in exactly when to swing, your skill will improve faster if you have good contact with the bait at all times. Typical blackfish rigs have the hook on a short dropper leader just inches above the weight because you want your bait lying directly on the rocks or wreck. In choppy conditions, however, the rocking of the boat can cause that rig to lift and lower. To counteract this and keep your rig as still as possible, move your rod tip up and down in rhythm with the swells, and pay out or take in line as needed to stay tight.

Quick Draw

Lesser Canada geese land in big numbers and can make for a quick shoot if you scout them right. (Joe Genzel/)

It’s pretty cut and dry: Hunting geese—big honkers, lesser Canadas, specklebellies, and even snows—is easier over water. It’s more familiar to them; they roost and loaf on the same ponds and lakes; and it’s a more relaxed/comfortable environment. Plus, there aren’t 10 hunters laying in the middle of the decoys or crouching in A-Frames in a hedgerow with their heads peeking out the top of the blind. But since there isn’t always an abundance of water for all of us to hunt, we have to go to the cut corn, beans, milo, etc., to get the job done. Water is typically more conducive to a quick, successful hunt, so we will give you the tools to fill straps there first and then move on to fields, which takes more ingenuity and oftentimes patience.

1. Roost Shoots

It’s a long-standing no-no to shoot the roost, but it’s the most successful way to consistently kill geese. The trick is sleeping in. Get there about 8 a.m., and wait for a majority of the birds to fly out to feed. If it’s an early-season resident Canada goose hunt and there are just 100 birds, let them all get off the water. With so few birds, you can’t afford to push any off (they probably won’t come back). When it’s January in Kansas and there are 10,000 lessers, snows, and specks on a few acres of water, let at least 90 percent of them leave before you go in and set the decoys.

For big honkers on small ponds, you don’t need to bring more than two-dozen floaters and another dozen field full-bodies to put on the bank. With large roosts of lessers, specks, and snows you want to deploy as many decoys as you need in order to land birds in shotgun range. When we hunt roosts of 10,000 birds or more with a large group of hunters, we set between 15- and 40-dozen floaters, plus another 10-dozen field decoys, and a truck bed full of silhouettes. It’s likely going to take more flocks to shoot limits, so it’s better to deploy the big rig because you want to emulate what the later birds returning from the feed are used to seeing. If it’s just three or four hunters, you don’t have to do all that work. Eight- to 10-dozen floaters with silhouettes on the shore should be enough since those first groups are used to coming back to the water and seeing few geese.

2. Traffic Hunts Over Water

Our parents are handing us the hunting baton at one of the most decisive moments in the sport. (Cana Outdoors/)

You know the doom and gloom: millions of hunters have been aging out of the sport over the last few decades. Those of us in our 20s, 30s, and 40s have a monumental task ahead. We have to recruit new hunters—lots of them—that are from diverse cultural backgrounds and urban areas. And, we have to keep them engaged in the sport, so their hunting careers last more than a single season. If we fail to do this, the money that funds wildlife agencies and conservation initiatives will most certainly dry up.

It’s a difficult task, though new bipartisan legislation (Pittman-Robertson Modernization Act) that allows excise taxes to now be used for R3 programs may help. However, more money doesn’t automatically equate to more hunters. All kinds of different people are coming into hunting (or at least considering it), and how they view killing animals is much different than that of traditional hunters. Hipsters, farm-to-table enthusiasts, and new adult hunters who live in urban areas also have opinions on where hunting should be headed. The newcomers and veteran hunters have to decide how to navigate those murky waters together.

How are we doing so far?

To find out, I talked to a bunch of the people—from various backgrounds and avenues into the hunting world—who are trying to make marked change in our sport. All these folks have found ways to show hunting in a positive light and they’re honest about how difficult it is. The main takeaway? We had better start listening to one another.

Hannah Kycek: We Need to Show the Real Side of Hunting

The Hi-Line Sportsmen was created with the mission of keeping conservation local. (John Hafner/)

Editor’s Note: This is the first of a four-part series on Hunting Editor Andrew McKean’s efforts to ditch the national conservation organization banquets and start a more effective local group in his hometown of Glasgow, Montana.

Five years ago, a dozen of us, sweating, hoarse, and a little buzzed following another successful National Wild Turkey Federation fundraising banquet, looked back on our accomplishments.

We had raised about $15,000 that night, money flowing in increments of $10 and $20 from our neighbors playing games of chance to win guns and wildlife art framed in China. For our hometown of Glasgow, Montana, population 3,300 people, that’s a lot of money, but that night in the St. Raphael’s Catholic Church gym wasn’t unique. Almost every year in the decade that we hosted a NWTF banquet, we Hi-Line Gobblers raked in thousands of dollars, almost all of it from people who had never hunted or even heard a wild turkey. The core group of us volunteers—plus an assortment of children, spouses, and itinerant friends—was damned good at fundraising. It helped that we had fun working together and seeing the fruit of a kick-ass banquet.

We also had fun promoting the missions of the National Wild Turkey Federation: hosting field days for kids, skill camps for women, helping state wildlife technicians trap and move turkeys from areas with surplus birds to areas like ours with anemic populations. Over the years, our work restored turkeys along the Milk River, sent kids to college, and perpetuated the holy trinity of critter conservation: access, habitat, and maintenance of a national political lobbyist. But we also recognized that part of the bargain was that most of the money we raised in our kick-ass banquets would go toward paying for our banquet art and guns and fund work of the NWTF elsewhere in the state and nation.

Year after year, though, that bargain felt less and less equitable, until our discontent bubbled to the surface that night 5 years ago.

A late-season hunter waits on a frosty Alberta buck. (Dustin Lutt / Rockhouse Motion/)

Hunting whitetails in extreme cold is a little like parenthood. Rewards might await, but you’ve got to expect plenty of discomfort along the way.

Maybe it’s not that bad (whether I’m talking about brutal cold or parenting, I’ll leave to your imagination), but hunting in arctic weather can certainly be an exercise in perseverance. It’s also a wealth of burgeoning opportunity. In recent years, as wildlife managers try to find more ways to control deer populations, particularly in areas where chronic wasting disease outbreak-response plans call for substantial population reductions, extended late-season opportunities have become more abundant.

During these bitter-end hunts, the conditions that cause whitetails to move along consistent travel routes with predictable frequency are the same ones that make waiting on them so difficult: extreme cold.

We’re not talking about your run-of-the-mill cold. We’re talking about conditions that make 30-degree days seem like spring. The type of cold that freezes the snot in your nose and ices facial hair. Hunting in these circumstances requires special gear, special tactics, and a special frame of mind.

Double Wind-Stopping Layers

The key to choosing the right caliber for African plains game? Choose precision bullet placement first, bullet construction for desired terminal performance second, and on-target energy last. (Ron Spomer/)

You can hunt all southern Africa’s plains game species with one rifle if it’s chambered for the right cartridge. And that cartridge doesn’t have to be a big hairy magnum.

This means you can leave the .505 Gibbs, the .458 Lott, the .416 Rigby and even the .375 H&H Magnum on the dealer’s shelf. But dust off your deer rifle because it could be all you need.

The simple truth is that ordinary “deer” cartridges in the hands of ordinary hunters work to terminate ordinary African game. African farmers, ranchers and sportsmen have been hunting native impala, oryx, blesbok, warthogs, kudu, wildebeest, waterbuck, and all the rest (even buffalo, lion, and elephant) with medium caliber, medium power cartridges for more than a century. We’d consider many of them perfect for whitetails, mule deer, caribou, elk, and moose. Like most pragmatic country folk, Africans make do with inexpensive rifles shooting inexpensive, commonly available ammunition in average cartridges such as .303 British, .30-06 Springfield, and 7x57mm Mauser. Which strongly suggests we visitors might succeed in Africa with our own deer and elk rifles.

Read Next: 10 Life-Changing Lessons I Learned From My First Africa Safari

So let’s compare three common cartridges many judge suitable for African plains game: the .308 Winchester, .300 Winchester Magnum, and .338 Winchester Magnum.

Wolves were reintroduced to Yellowstone National Park in 1995. Now Colorado voters will decide on if they are reintroduced to their state. (National Park Service/)

Sometimes, while people bicker about politics, Mother Nature does her own thing. That seems to be occurring in Colorado when it comes to wolves.

On Election Day, Colorado voters will be asked to consider a ballot initiate directing Colorado Parks and Wildlife to import wolves from the north and turn them loose by 2023.

But true to form, the wolves have thrown a curve ball. This month, CPW announced that biologists believe wolves are already setting up housekeeping in the northwest part of the state. In essence, the wolves voted with their paws before humans have a chance to vote on the topic.

Either way, Colorado is poised to become the next “wolf state.” One looming questions is, how much bad blood will be created by ballot-box wildlife management?

Perhaps no other animal in North America elicits the passions and polarization as the wolf, especially among some hunters who often consider wolves competition for deer and elk and ranchers who hate to see their sheep and cattle killed.

The Archery Trade Association is jammed to the rafters with new bows, arrows, sights, treestands, calls, packs, and clothing... if it’s used for bowhunting, it’s there. But there is only one category of product that actually kills the critters we chase, and that’s the broadhead. Broadheads are devilishly simple tools but, each and every year, product designers find new and novel ways to get the job done. Here’s a look at some of 2020’s notable new models.

G5 STRIKER-X

If you just can’t get by with three blades, G5 has a solution in its 4-blade model, which is a first for the company. The Striker-X is a 4-blade version of the popular Striker and boasts a 1.25-inch-cut and is available in both 100- and 125-grain models with crossbow versions coming as well. The LUTZ blades are replaceable and the ferrule is fully machined.

RAGE X-TREME NC

Rage unveiled its first collar-free models last year and the logical follow-up to that was a no-collar version of its highly popular X-Treme model, named for its ultra-wide 2.3-inch cutting width. The X-Treme is available with either a cut-on contact or chisel tip setup, each option weighing 100 grains. A 3-pack will sell for around $45.

For the past five years or so, crossbow popularity has soared as their inclusion in standard bowhunting seasons have spread across the country. The 2020 Archery Trade Association show seemed to adhere to that trend, with plenty of new crossbow introductions, many of which are showing varied and handier limb configurations (with a corresponding jump in price). Here’s a rundown of this year’s new crossbow offerings.

RAVIN R29X

At first glance, this year’s Ravin looks an awful lot like last year’s Ravin. And it should. It has the same HeliCoil cam system that turned the crossbow world on its ear a couple years back. It has the same fore-end grip system (which is really, really good) and the same stock system.

What’s new? The revamped cocking system is silent. It’s still super easy to use, Ravin has just eliminated the tell-tale click-click-click that signaled the bow was being cocked.

The R29X measures 29 inches in length, which means it’s still plenty handy, but a little longer than last year’s ultra-compact 26-inch R26. It has a 12.5-inch powerstroke which launches 400-grain arrows at an impressive 450 fps. It’s priced at $2,650. There’s also an R29 that’s $300 cheaper with a speed rating of 430 fps.

The 2020 Archery Trade Association is the not-quite-official launch for 2020 bow models. Truth be told, there is no real standard launch cycle amongst bow manufacturers and we’ve been seeing new model releases trickling out since late summer. But the ATA show is the best opportunity to see all those models under one roof and spend a few moments shooting them. Here’s what the 2020 crop looks like.

MATHEWS VXR

The 2019 Vertix from Mathews was one of the most vibration-free bows we’ve ever ran through the paces of our annual Bow Test. The VXR seems poised to set a new standard for vibration-free performance at this year’s test thanks to a melding of the Vertix’s top vibration-killing features with a totally new riser design that Mathews claims increases overall bow stability while further reducing vibration. The bow is also lighter thanks to a reconfigured riser design. It’s not a huge reduction in weight (last year’s Vertix weighed in at 4.7 pounds while the VXR 28 scales 4.44 pounds) but it is noticeable. The VXR is also smartly available in two lengths – 28 and 31.5 inches. The 28-inch model will certainly be more popular but the 31.5 is a long-range shooting machine. Advertised speeds are 344 fps for the 28 and 343 for 31.5.

The VXR 28 lists for $999 while the VXR 31.5 sells for $1,099.

BEAR STATUS EKO

The Annihilator broadhead, a 3-blade cut-on-contact head cast from a single piece of alloy steel. (Annihilator Broadheads/)

There’s already enough gear involved in bowhunting that, when it comes to my broadheads, I just want something simple. Which is the most appealing thing about this new Annihilator broadhead: its simplicity. The three-blade head is built around a single piece of 4140 alloy steel, which somehow makes it look old-school and brand-new at the same time.

The new company, founded by hunting buddies Micah Brown and Brandon Brodie, eliminated plenty of existing broadhead conventions—there are no vents, fasteners, or detachable blades—but they also added what they call a “partial back-scoop wedge” to the head.

The actual cutting surface is relatively small, but the Annihilator cuts on contact while the scoop design punches a hole in game, pushing and pulling tissue to create a large wound channel. (The cutting surface area on the 100- and 125-grain heads works out to .180 square inches, with a cutting diameter of .910 inches.) The fixed head is designed to gouge holes instead of cut slits. This scoop-style broadhead does introduce some drag, but this is reportedly a feature, not a bug. Brown and Brodie say that the wedge puts drag in the right places for optimal flight stabilization.

The company also claims that “the Annihilator will not warp, bend, or break when passing through an animal, no matter the shot.” Brown and Brodie kept a hole-riddled car hood in the booth to emphasize this point.

Three-packs of the 100- and 125-grain broadheads are already available on Annihilator’s site for $55 and $57, respectively. That’s pricier than many fixed-blades, but if you consider the hassle you’re saving with such a simple piece of equipment, it might be worth it. The two larger heads—the 125-grain XL and 150-grain XL—are coming soon, and all are made in the USA.

The Barnett HyperFlite EVO, the company's new flagship crossbow for 2020. (Barnett Crossbows/)

Many ultra-accurate crossbows have hit the bowhunting market over the last few years, and these often come in narrow, nimble packages (the R26 from Ravin, for instance). The latest flagship crossbow from Barnett was also designed with accuracy in mind. That’s not a surprising goal given their track record—Barnett bows have historically turned in some of the tightest groups in our annual test. The HyperFlight EVO is narrow with a 9-inch axle-to-axle when cocked, but it isn’t exactly nimble. The crossbow weighs a hefty 11 pounds by design, according to one of Barnett’s designers, who compared the EVO to a heavy competition rifle with low recoil and excellent groups—instead of a light-weight field gun that simply gets the job done.

The most interesting aspect of the new design is the position of the cams, which are mounted on a very stiff riser rather than at the end of the limbs. Barnett was focused on eliminating string lift, which can cause cam lean and reduce accuracy. So while the limbs still flex plenty when cocked, the cams remain level. The EVO reportedly reaches speeds of 420 fps with a 380-grain arrow. It shot well at the range, though we couldn’t test the accuracy at any real distance.

There are plenty of thoughtful touches on the EVO, including a micro-adjustable comb and butt pad, and an adjustable stock for the correct length of pull. It also features a 3-position fold-down handle that’s hollow to accommodate a proprietary shooting stick. The 90-degree angle is suitable for shooting off-hand, the 45-degree bend allows a hunter to anchor the shooting stick on a hip, and the horizontal position folds the grip out of the way entirely. There’s also a two-gear system which makes for faster cocking with the stock-integrated, quick-detach crank cocking device. Though there’s a groove on the stock for a cocking rope, there’s currently no way to draw the crossbow if the in-stock cocking device fails. This is due to the 285-pound draw weight, which is plenty for anyone to pull with a rope, but there’s also no room on the string to place hooks on either side of the wide rail.

The crossbow also incorporates a Trigger Tech trigger and the usual anti-dry fire technology. The finish is a Mossy Oak Break Up Country, and the MSRP is $1,600, which includes the bow, three 22-inch HyperFlite arrows, a 1.5-5x32 illuminated scope, the integrated cocking device, and a quiver.

In the past 10 years, sportsmen have experienced an enlightenment of sorts. Suppressors (a.k.a. silencers and cans,) once widely (and incorrectly) considered illegal to possess, have grown in popularity among shooters and hunters. I learned the truth back in 2007 or 2008, and now use suppressors whenever possible.

Growing up, the only exposure I had to cans was in movies and on television, which portrayed them inaccurately and as tools suited only for secret agents, hitmen, and other criminals. If that sounds familiar, this will give you the basic run-down on suppressor functionality, how to pick the best one for you, and what it actually takes to get one.

1. What They Do and Don’t Do

The biggest myth about silencers or suppressors is they completely quiet a firearm. You may be surprised to discover that the iconic soft “chirp” that silencers produce in movies isn’t the case in the real world. The devices do significantly reduce the sound signature of a gunshot, but will not completely silence it. The sound signature and decibel level that suppressors produce varies depending on the cartridge and specific type of firearm. The generally accepted threshold for ear-safe impulse sound levels is 140 decibels (similar to the report of a normal .22 LR), and your average centerfire rifle or handgun will be in the 160-175dB range, or higher if using a muzzle brake. A suppressor will usually decrease that to the 110-130dB, depending on the gun and ammunition velocity. For comparison, the average BB gun is usually right around 100dB. Minimizing muzzle blast makes shooting just about anything more pleasant, especially for newer or younger shooters.

In addition to sound and muzzle blast reduction, suppressors will also reduce recoil and often boost velocity slightly by keeping some pressurization behind the bullet after it’s left the muzzle, but still inside the suppressor.

The National Park Service decided to cull invasive mountain goats with aerial gunners, but they could have turned to sportsmen. (Pixabay/)

Most of us would agree our national parks are treasures that must be protected and conserved so future generations can enjoy them as much as we do. Part of that protection is wildlife management, and although the government body in charge of the stewardship of these lands (the National Park Service) typically operates with a minimal human interference mindset, there are times when it must step in.

If you haven’t heard, by now, gunners in helicopters are swooping around Grand Teton National Park, with the goal of eliminating the mountain goat population labeled as invasive to that area. The reason for this is to protect the relatively fragile local bighorn sheep population. Bighorns are extremely sensitive to pathogens carried by domestic sheep and goats, that can also be transmitted to and carried by Rocky Mountain goats. The science and reasoning behind the extreme management is understandable, but hunters in Wyoming and other western states should be scratching their heads, wondering why we would pay for this operation (through tax dollars) when hunters could have fulfilled dreams of hunting goats and helped in this management?

Hunters have proven time and again to be one of the most valuable and affordable tools for wildlife managers. You might be surprised to find that hunting in several national parks (not just preserves) is allowed under certain circumstances. The Grand Teton NP has an elk reduction program that allows hunters to cull elk within the park boundaries so the population doesn’t get out of control. Several parks in Alaska also have allowances for subsistence hunting. So why wouldn’t they create a program for hunters to eliminate these goats?

It might help to know that both the “elk reduction program” and subsistence hunting allowances in parks created in Alaska in 1980 are congressionally mandated, not agency policy. In other words, the NPS didn’t voluntarily decide to let people continue their subsistence lifestyle in Alaska, or use hunters to keep elk numbers in check in Wyoming, Congress made them do it.

If the NPS was really looking for a win-win, in the past seven years, they would have easily been able to create a program to vet and license scores of hunters with a say-no-more attitude, willing to participate in the hunt of a lifetime, take an active role to protect a fragile species, and put meat in their freezer. This method has been used successfully to eliminate small infected populations of bighorns in other places, so why not here? Aerial population control (as most of us here in Alaska are familiar with) is sometimes a necessary tool to achieve management goals, especially with predators. Ironically, the NPS has repeatedly publicly opposed those measures when used by the State of Alaska. However, I believe that this is a prime case for hunters to do the brunt of the work. A USA Today article does make mention of “ground-based” hunters but states that it won’t happen this year. There is also a lack of specificity as to whether it would be “public” or “contracted” hunters.

Guides often downplay the physicality of hunts in order to keep their clients in the right frame of mind.

If you’ve ever been on a guided hunt or fishing trip, you know all too well that some can be more nightmare than dream. A recent hunt in Nebraska immediately comes to mind. It was November and the rut was rocking. A crisp front was pushing through from the north and the forecasted temps were perfect.

“You’ll be the first one in this stand,” the outfitter told me over dinner that evening. “It’s a great set. Been saving it all year for a special client.”

That was all I needed to hear. As the sun rose the next morning, I looked around at what I thought to be an epic set—a small patch of hardwoods jutting out into a cut cornfield. Hours went by. Nothing. My hopes faded. When I climbed down, I found cigarettes, candy bar wrappers, and some plastic baggies under my stand. Guess what? I wasn’t the first one to ever sit in the stand. In fact, I probably wasn’t one of the first 10, but my guide wasn’t about to tell me that.

The truth is that there are some great outfitters and some horrific ones. I took some time, recently, to chat with some of the best guides I know in an effort to help you spot some of the the yellow flags that might come up on your next guided trip. They were all glad to chime in on the seven things guides might not necessarily be forthcoming about.

1. “We’ve Never Killed A Deer From Here”