Alicia and Monica Dale are red-haired sisters that make up a duo of successful clays shooters.
And their shotgun of choice? Well, coincidentally, it’s the CZ Redhead Premier Target as it happens, which actually marked an upswing in their games by providing better fit and improved reliability over their previous shotguns, according to the sisters.
I live in Ground Zero for lead bans. First, California banned much – but not all – hunting with lead in the California condor range, which is about a fifth of the state, effective in 2008.
When you hunt strange birds in a foreign country, there’s this inescapable regret that accompanies your departure: As you pack your shotgun, you wish you would’ve tried to hunt that one beguiling bird just one more time. At the airport, you search for overpriced souvenirs with the bird’s likeness. And before you even land at LAX, you’re no longer confident you can remember what the bird sounded like, much less imitate it for the friends eagerly awaiting your tales.
I can’t believe it’s July already! June was steamy hot on the East Coast and July looks to be as bad. The bright side of being smack in the middle of all this summer heat is that we are getting that much closer to the fall, my favorite time of year for several reasons.
The boyfriend and I just got back from one of those hunting trips of a lifetime: We spent 11 days in New Zealand on an exchange program hunting lovely paradise shelducks, a beautiful shrieking rail called a pukeko, and alarmingly large black swans.
Happy June everyone! I am not sure where the time goes, but it sure flies by. My May was so full of travel, weddings and celebrations that I am not 100 percent certain what day it is right now. My middle child graduated from high school, my daughter had her junior prom and one of my best friend’s daughters got married. There have been a birthday celebration (ugh), athletic banquets and baccalaureate services. This is a long way of saying there has been less shooting time than we would have liked around here. But alas, we must have our priorities.
Last duck season was my best ever: I was a pretty good shot most days, and I got to hunt in some great locations on some great days, so I killed 120 ducks and geese.
“You’re gonna hate this part,” I warned Ninja.
My 19-year-old co-worker – nicknamed for her ability to get anything done efficiently and well – immediately began to cringe and squeal, which was exactly what I wanted.
As I stood yesterday looking at the big looming facade of Gold’s Gym, dreading the forthcoming workout, I thought “Damn all that meat and Malbec!” Yep, it happens every year! We go to Argentina and we become gluttons. We eat too much, drink great Malbecs and a few (or several) cervezas and shoot until we cannot hold the gun up anymore.
It had been a very good duck hunt. Clear, bright December day. Sky swept clean by a raging north wind. And at this particular spot in a small marsh surrounded by grazing cattle, we were where the birds wanted to be.
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