The Hunt that Couldn’t Possibly Be as Good as Advertised

My boyfriend was skeptical.

I was about to go on a hunt where I was told to expect to shoot nothing but greenheads flaps down over decoys.

“They always say that,” Hank said, “but it’s rarely the case.”

“I don’t know,” I responded. “I’ve seen video from these hunts. It looks pretty good.”

And our guide, Mike Franklin at Pacific Wings Prairie Outfitters, had juiced my anticipation with his description of carefully managed flooded corn ponds with aerators to keep the water from freezing.

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The New Browning 20-Gauge 725 Sporting is a Gem

If you’re still shooting that beloved Browning over/under you’ve owned since college, be prepared to have your socks knocked off with the company’s new 20-Gauge 725 Sporting.

Although still a member of the fabled Citori family introduced in 1973, the 20-gauge 725 Sporting marks a departure from classic Browning over/unders characterized by broad beaver tail forends, bulky receivers and labored handling. To paraphrase that Oldsmobile meme, the 20-gauge 725 is “not your father’s Browning.”

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Lanier Shooting Sports Lifestyles – November 2014

Last month we mentioned how much we love the fall shooting season! It’s the season where we finally get to pull out the Dubarrys or other favorite boots, tweed vests, and scarves for some driven shooting, or our favorite upland field pants and jackets for a great day of walk-up hunting over dogs. I’m looking forward to some excellent duck hunting as well, so here comes the CAMO. Yes, I admit it I’ll be sporting the camo for some duck hunts this year ranging as far south as Louisiana and North to the Delmarva Peninsula as well.

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Hunting the Drought: The Opening Act

In the days and weeks leading up to the California duck hunting opener, the reports from my buddy Charlie were good. The lake we hunted in his neck of the woods was filthy with puddle ducks. That would’ve been a head-scratcher in any normal year, because this was strictly a diver lake.

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First Day into Pheasant Hunting’s Fabled Fields

In Minneapolis-St. Paul we boarded a two-engine plane and buckled in while the pilot tried to start the engines. An hour later, we deplaned and made preparations to camp out in the airport. Apologetic employees gave us cookies and stale sodas while we called our loved ones and scratched out our last wills and testaments on the backs of airline napkins.

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