The bear’s teeth were popping and its breathing, heavy. Guttural grunts and thrashing brush were easy to hear as the enraged black bear was less than 100 yards away. I continued blowing on the handheld predator call, and finally the agitated bear emerged from the dark timber in Southeast Alaska. My buddy, Mike Jenkins, won the coin toss and was up first. As soon as the bear hit the rocky shoreline, zeroed-in on my calls, put it’s ears back and started coming, Mike pulled the trigger. Dropping the bear inside 70 yards was an adrenaline rush for Mike, as this…
Author: Scott Haugen
Scott Haugen
Scott Haugen is one of North America’s most accomplished outdoor writers. With 17 book titles, more than 3,500 articles, and over 12,000 photos having been published in hunting and fishing magazines around the world, Haugen has been writing full time for over 20 years. The former host of over 450 TV shows, his programs appeared on many major networks, including Netflix, Amazon Prime, ESPN, Outdoor Channel, and more, in over 50 countries. A former high school science teacher with a masters degree and specializing in biology, Haugen spends more than 250 days afield hunting, fishing and photographing wildlife. Scott Haugen Host: The Hunt www.scotthaugen.com Columnist: Wildfowl, American Waterfowler, Hunt Alaska, Alaska Sporting Journal, American Shooting Journal, NW Sportsman, CA Sportsman, Salmon-Trout-Steelheader
With my cheek firmly placed on the stock, I waited patiently for the tom to turn. When the longbeard pirouetted and faced the decoy, I held the crosshairs steady and gently squeezed the trigger. The bolt was quickly on its way, hitting the vitals of the strutting tom. Soon, I was strapping a tag to the leg of the striking, Merriam’s turkey. It was my first time turkey hunting with a crossbow, and I was hooked. I live in Oregon, where turkey hunting with a crossbow is prohibited. (Hopefully, that will change one day.) So, I traveled to Wyoming to…
The sun had yet to rise on this November morning. With temperatures hovering in single digits and a 40-mile-per-hour wind in my face, I hoped the hunt would end fairly quickly, and figured it would. After all, how hard could it be hunting bison on a 10,000-acre ranch on horseback? Slinking closer to the edge of a cliff, I spotted the unmistakable stature of a bison. It was alone and in the bottom of a deep canyon. The big bull grazed 300 yards away in a spot that would take the better part of an hour to reach on foot.…