Turkey Hunting Tips: Mega Decoy Spreads for Early Season Toms

Alex Robinson — Mon, 25 Feb 2013 14:18:44 GMT

Early in the spring season, when turkey flocks are still in winter formation, your one or two decoys may not be enough to attract a gobbler. So create a flock. Borrow a collection of assorted dekes from your buddies. Buy cheap foam models from the sale bin at your sporting-goods store. Resurrect tattered veterans from the back of your gear closet. Just as with field spreads for geese, make sure you have a mix of feeding, sentry, and loafing turkey decoys. And leave room in the middle as a “landing zone” for incoming gobblers.

This flock approach won’t always work, but the time to try it is now, in the first days of the new seasons, especially if your area has a late winter that keeps the real turkeys bunched up and wary.

Here’s a guide to when fake flocks work, and when they might be more trouble than they’re worth.

Flock Up
When you're hunting an open field, set up a big flock of decoys and wait for your actors to get attention. The birds will come to you—eventually—though it may be later in the day when the flock hits the field to feed.

Near wintering areas, a big flock can look like real birds dispersing after feeding.

Near bottlenecks, field entrances, and strut zones, the big-flock approach provides blind-shooting scenarios for several hunters.

As summer approaches, late-season gobblers will re-form bachelor groups. Use a handful of jake or adult tom fakes as the breeding phase fades.

Size Down
If you hunt mountainous terrain, you don’t want the hassle and weight, especially when you have to cover a lot of ground just to find the birds.

Big spreads are not a tactic for high-pressure public land, especially if you hunt within view of a road. More than a handful of decoys attracts the wrong kind of attention.

Limit decoy sets to a hen and jake when hunting from a stationary blind. This dictates precisely where the gobbler should come—likely to the shortbeard fake—so you can take a well-placed shot.

In those places where gangs of jakes dominate solitary longbeards, a single jake decoy may be more effective than a big bunch of intimidating turkeys that has strutting toms and numerous fake jakes.

A big-flock approach with lots of hen decoys loses effectiveness as the season progresses and real hens start to scatter and nest.

Five Spread Strategies
1) Surround a gobbler decoy with a big hen harem. Face the gobbler toward a jake decoy mounting a belly-down hen. This arrangement will enrage a gobbler that senses a threat to his dominance.

2) Face a full-fan strutter and a couple of jake decoys away from you, looking toward where turkeys will likely enter a field. This challenges the dominance of a territorial gobbler.

3) Turn a full-fan gobbler and fake shortbeards so they're walking away from where you expect the real gobbler to enter. This arrangement suggests subordinate status.

4) Crowd a large hen decoy with smaller hen decoys. This arrangement suggests a challenge to a territorial boss hen. When she comes, spitting and cussing, a strutter is likely to follow.

5) Place a longbeard and a jake decoy face to face, with fake hens nearby. Call a series of aggressive purrs. Turkeys love a good fight. A gobbler just might hustle in for a front-row seat.

Best Coyote Hunting Photos from OL Readers

Alex Robinson — Fri, 22 Feb 2013 14:52:08 GMT

Russia Wins World Ice Fishing Championship

Alex Robinson — Wed, 20 Feb 2013 18:27:45 GMT

Tackle Test: Best New Spinning and Baitcasting Rods and Reels for 2013

Alex Robinson — Tue, 19 Feb 2013 16:34:06 GMT

For a variety of reasons, but due in large part to a limping economy, product innovation in the fishing tackle industry has been somewhat stagnant for the past couple of years. For 2013, however, ingenuity has come roaring back as consumers clamor for cutting-edge gear after the multi-year drought.

As has become tradition, OL once again assembled our motley crew of tackle testers in the marshes of southern Louisiana to challenge rogue redfish and feisty largemouths with the latest and greatest rods and reels that will hit shelves this year.

We cast, pitched, plunked, ripped, cranked, and abused our test field, drilling down to identify each new product’s strengths and weaknesses, while ignoring marketing hype. When we’d exhausted both ourselves and the equipment, we sat down and hammered out the results. Here’s what we found.

Editor's Choice

Spinning
Rod: 13 Fishing Envy Black
$225

The 7-foot 1-inch Envy Black, from Tampa-based upstart 13 Fishing, combines the control of a sub-7-footer with the power and castability of a rod that measures much longer. The sensitive extra-fast tip allowed us to cast and twitch the lightest jigs with an ease previously experienced only with ultralight rods. Rated for 1⁄8- to 3⁄8-ounce baits and 4- to 10-pound-test line, the Envy easily handled 14-pound braid. Seven recoil guides manage retrieves and even bounced back nicely after a tester accidently stepped on the rod.

The blank’s inner walls have to be quite thin to achieve its 3.9-ounce weight. However, after hours of fighting unruly redfish, the blank proved to be durable.

The reel seat is top-shelf, and the split, grade-A natural cork grip is exceptionally sensitive. Even the lure keeper is well thought out: Its flat profile accommodates your index finger when painting structure with shaky heads or dragging drop shots. The rod’s fit and finish is polished, from the winding checks to the faux carbon reel seat.

Reel: Quantum EXO PTi
$200

The EXO PTi’s skeletonized build suggests the engineering and meticulous machine work you’d expect in a fine watch. And despite its 7.9-ounce weight, the reel is as rugged as chunkier spinners.

However, its performance is what really made the EXO PTi our Editor’s Choice. Ten polymer and stainless bearings facilitate effortless cranks on a tricked-out handle adorned with a comfortable laser-cut EVA knob.

A multi-stacked ceramic disc drag spins the CNC-machined spool, which turns fluidly on two separate sealed bearings that are conjoined and mounted on the main shaft. These wide-shouldered bearings eliminate spool torque during energetic runs from fish (including one 30-pound black drum, which was halted without a hiccup thanks to deft on-the-fly adjustments with the generous forward drag knob). The result is a virtually wobble-free spool.

The titanium bail is easily manipulated, and allowed us to execute quick-flick casts to schooling reds, enticing individual fish out of the larger group.

Baitcasting
Rod: Lamiglas Infinity
$360

Taping 7 feet 2 inches, the Infinity is as pure a caster as you’ll find. 3M’s Powerlux silica-based nanoparticle resin anchors the blank design. A crisp, fast tip is perfectly suited for Carolina rigs, which require sensitivity when fished on long lines. The rod’s stiff aft section melds perfectly with the supple upper blank, easily whipping baits to great distances.

Ten double-footed guides, with pressed inserts, promise resistance to abrasive superlines, and their spacing allows the rod to bend with uniform flexure down the length of the blank.

Having grown accustomed to sparse split grips in recent years, users will find the long, counterbalanced handle a great grab when slinging baits with both hands, be it a light soft-plastic or a plump crankbait. The rotund butt cap is great for those accustomed to burying the butt in their midsection during cranking sessions. One tester grew so comfortable with the rod’s performance that he fished it for an hour before remembering to swap it out.

Reel: Abu Garcia Revo Premier
$300

This Swedish-engineered offering is helium-light, weighing less than 6 ounces, thanks to advanced materials like C6 carbon side-plates. In spite of its demure weight, everything about the Revo Premier is substantial.

Plush EVA grips crank the reel nearly friction-free on 10 corrosion-resistant sealed bearings. The wide spool offers plenty of room for meaty thumbs, while the handle’s radically recurved design keeps the horizontal profile narrow. A beefy gearbox drives a 6.4:1 retrieve—ideal for a wide variety of presentations. The worm gear and line guide mesh tightly, lending to the reel’s overall smoothness.

The dual casting control is impressive, as it feathers line out regardless of bait weight. In fact, most users will find the friction control alone sufficient for a majority of casting applications.

The drag performed flawlessly in scenarios in which lesser reels skip, slip, and chatter—even when locked down—and the payout remained smooth across its range.

Great Buys

Spinning
Rod: Shimano Compre
$100

The redesigned 6-foot 6-inch Compre captured our attention with its 3.8-ounce weight, quality components, and attractive pricing. The IM9 rating of the blank (upgraded from IM8) is nothing earth-shattering; however, the particular blank Shimano selected for the reimagined Compre is oh-so-sensitive. A frills-free, ratcheted Fuji reel seat and a natural cork handle add to the rod’s functionality, and the Fuji New Concept Hardloy guides are quality pieces, too.

Not surprisingly, we found the Compre offered excellent casting control in tight situations. Our soft-tipped medium-light test rod feathered jigs into tight quarters to spooky backwater fish. Rated for 4- to 10-pound-test, the Compre is a delight when throwing downsized baits on skinny line.

The bottom line on this offering is value-packed performance from a rod that just happens to carry the Shimano name—a guarantee of quality and performance that almost any fisherman can afford.

Reel: Lew’s Speed Spin SS300A
$60

This marks just the second year of Lew’s return to the fishing tackle scene, and already the company has established a reputation for no-nonsense performance at reasonable prices. The blue-collar Speed Spin is no exception.

The 10-bearing system is surprisingly smooth in its composite frame. At 10.2 ounces, the reel has a bit of heft; however, it’s built with rugged components and readily accepts abuse. The frame’s rubberized, corrosion-resistant finish offers a pleasant feel. The drag works as advertised, and the bail system is clean and dependable.

During testing, we found that the large spool (sized for superlines) handled the 14-pound braid admirably. A spare spool is included at this cheaper-than-dirt price, allowing an easy transition to a clear line when conditions dictate a change.

The large reel is well suited for heavy freshwater applications. For those who throw worms and Carolina rigs on spinning gear, the SS300A will excel, but we also found it to be a great match for the inshore species we encountered.

Baitcasting
Rod: Quantum PT Tour Tactical
$100

At 7 feet long, with a subtle medium action, the 3.8-ounce PT Tour Tactical handles like a dream at a down-to-earth price.

This rod will find favor with crankbaiters seeking a well-mannered casting rod with a soft tip and stiff butt. We appreciated the laser-engraved action on the butt, making for quick identification of the rod among a group of similar-looking rods on the deck.

Two dual-foot guides anchor the line management system, with seven micro guides spaced above them, culminating with a generous tip. We found this varied guide system cast line exceptionally well compared with some other guide combinations.

The under-pinned lure keeper is mounted out of the way, yet perfectly positioned for hanging baits. A Fuji split grip and ECS seat anchor the reel and provide dependable performance. The EVA grip is durable and comfortable, even when throwing crankbaits or jerkbaits across large expanses of water.

Reel: Bass Pro Shops Bionic Plus
$80

Working a second job to afford a new reel isn’t how fishermen want to spend their spare time. Happily, the Bionic Plus combines a number of desirable features at a price that won’t cause the average Joe to roll his eyes in frustration.

The one-piece aluminum chassis is solid, providing a strong foundation. High-end graphite side plates nestle neatly in the hand. The 6.3:1 gear system, with its modest six stainless ball bearings, turns the spool as effortlessly as a $300 ten-bearing system might. A dual drag system comes standard and works flawlessly, the forged spool holds 130 yards of 12-pound-test, and the casting thumb bar was the most comfortable in the test.

A gently recurved handle, with ribbed knobs, provides plenty of power for leveraging fish from the slop. A solid machined brass drive gear is a pleasant surprise on this low-priced entry, and the gearbox meshes well, providing a tight, instant anti-reverse—a must when hammering hooksets.

Bargain Combos

Spinning
Our annual tackle test ferrets out the very best new equipment the industry has to offer, but what about a quality, well-paired combo that’s priced right for those on a tight budget? The $130 Falcon BuCoo Micro matched with a $50 Abu Garcia Cardinal STX offers a well-rounded combo that excels at throwing a variety of baits. The BuCoo, with its lightweight blank and super sensitivity, fishes like an ultralight with the power of a heavy-action.

The Cardinal’s no-nonsense design will impress users with its seven sealed ball bearings, which enable the graphite rotor to spin smoothly. The machined spool holds 175 yards of 8-pound-test line, and a 5.1:1 retrieve ratio chews up 29 inches per turn for quick, repetitive casting.

Casting
At 5.1 ounces, the $100 13 Fishing Omen Black is suitably heavy for just about any inshore or freshwater species, with its medium-heavy action and fast tip that’s neither too stiff nor too soft. The reel seat is top-notch, with a great split handle that features a combination of grade-A natural cork and EVA foam. Titanium Y-guides with Zirconia inserts will withstand abuse from both mono and superlines.

We paired the Omen Black with an $80 Pflueger Purist 7.1:1 high-speed reel. The eight-bearing Purist presents a good balance of performance and durability for shoppers of budget-priced gear. A simple magnetic cast control makes for straightforward operation and eliminates the fuss of a centrifugal brake system. The drag works great, and the large star knob makes adjusting it a cinch. Our Omen/Purist combo balanced impressively in hand and cast remarkably well.

Test Results at a Glance
Rating Key:
**** - Excellent
*** - Very Good
** - Good
* - Fair

Spinning Rods

	Overall	Price	Performance	Design	Price/Value
13 Fishing Envy Black	****	$225	A	A+	A-
Shimano Compre	****	$100	A	A	A+
Lamiglas Infinity	****	$240	A	A+	B+
Kistler Carbon Steel	****	$100	A-	A-	A-
Falcon Bucoo Micro	****	$130	A-	A-	A-
Dobyns Coalition Weapon	****	$200	A-	A-	B
St. Croix Legendxtreme	****	$390	A-	A-	B+
Fenwick Aetos	****	$180	A-	A-	B+
Lew's Team Lews	***1/2	$180	B+	B+	B+
Cabela's Fish Eagle 50	***	$90	B-	B-	B
Bass Pro Shops Bionic Blade	**1/2	$80	C+	C+	B-

Baitcasting Rods

	Overall	Price	Performance	Design	Price/Value
Lamiglas Infinity	****	$360	A+	A+	B
13 Fishing Omen Black	****	$100	A-	A	A
Dobyns Coalition Weapon	****	$200	A-	A+	B+
Quantum PT Tour Tactical	****	$100	B+	A	A
Kistler Carbon Steel	****	$110	A-	A-	A-
Falcon Cara 17	****	$225	A-	A-	B
St. Croix Legendxtreme	****	$390	A-	A-	B-
Lew's Team Lews	****	$190	A-	A-	A-
Airrus Stargate	***1/2	$380	B+	A-	B-
G.Loomis GLX	***1/2	$395	B+	A-	C+
Cabela's Fish Eagle 50	***1/2	$90	B+	B	B+
Wright & McGill Sweet Reese Alabama Rig	***	$100	B	B-	B
Abu Garcia Villian	***	$180	B	B-	B
Bass Pro Shops Bionic Blade	***	$80	B-	B-	B

Spinning Reels

	Overall	Price	Performance	Design	Price/Value
Quantum EXO PTi	****	$200	A+	A+	A-
Lew's Speed Spin SS300A	****	$60	A	A	A+
Okuma Helios HX-25	****	$140	A-	A-	A-
Abu Garcia Revo SX 30	****	$160	A-	A-	A-
Shimano Saros 2500FA	****	$130	A-	A-	B+
Abu Garcia Cardinal STX	***1/2	$50	B+	B+	A
Castalia Magic Flight XT 2000	***1/2	$148	B+	A-	B

Baitcasting Reels

	Overall	Price	Performance	Design	Price/Value
Abu Garcia Revo Premier	****	$300	A+	A+	B
Shimano Calcutta 200D	****	$340	A	A	B+
Quantum Energy E100SPT	****	$160	A-	A	A-
Pinnacle Optimus LTE	****	$160	A-	A-	A
Bass Pro Shops Bionic Plus	****	$80	B+	B+	A-
Okuma Helios	****	$200	A-	A-	B+
Lew's BB1	***1/2	$160	A-	A-	B+
Abu Garcia Revo Winch	***1/2	$200	B+	B+	B
Pflueger Purist	***	$80	B	B	B+

New Guns: 7 Hot New Shotguns and Innovations for 2013

Alex Robinson — Thu, 14 Feb 2013 17:44:28 GMT

We take a look at 7 new shotguns and innovations that were unveiled at SHOT Show. From slick new target guns to recoil reducers on your old duck buster, all were meant to make your shotgunning a little bit better (or at least a little cheaper).

Coyote Hunting in Montana from a Wall Tent Basecamp

Alex Robinson — Mon, 11 Feb 2013 13:54:59 GMT

Hunting Editor Andrew McKean and five of his buddies spent a week hunting coyotes on Montana's frozen prairie. In -35 degree wind chill, they camped in wall tents and did their best to fight off the frostbite.

Birds on the Bayou: Duck Hunting Louisiana

Alex Robinson — Fri, 08 Feb 2013 17:31:26 GMT

John Taranto headed to Louisiana to hunt some of the best waterfowl waters in the world.

Presidents' Guns: Firearms and the Commander-In-Chief

Alex Robinson — Thu, 07 Feb 2013 21:44:31 GMT

Barack Obama's recent skeet shooting photo made plenty of headlines, but he was far from the first president to pose with a gun. We take a look at a short history of modern presidents and their guns.

New Scopes 2013: Hottest New Scopes and Sights

Alex Robinson — Tue, 05 Feb 2013 19:28:41 GMT

We round up the best new rifle scopes, crossbow scopes, and sights to hit the market in 2013.

Wild Game: A Nutrition Guide for Game Animals in North America

Alex Robinson — Mon, 04 Feb 2013 16:25:56 GMT

We take a look at the nutritional value of some of the most popular and most obscure wild game in North America. Know how many calories there are in 3 ounces snapping turtle? Find out here.

Best New Knives for Hunting, Fishing, and Survival

Alex Robinson — Fri, 01 Feb 2013 15:18:45 GMT

We round up 12 of the best new knives for hunting, fishing, and survival. Check out the gallery and find out which knife is right for you.

Best Outdoor Life Reader Photos January 2013

Alex Robinson — Tue, 29 Jan 2013 16:30:56 GMT

Outdoor Life readers have started the year off right with a flood of hero shots from the woods and water. Check out the best photos uploaded to our bragging board this month.

20 Best Taxidermy Photos from the Safari Club International Convention

Alex Robinson — Fri, 25 Jan 2013 20:58:49 GMT

We rounded up 20 of the best mount photos from the SCI convention floor. Let us know in the comments section which one you like the best.

Photos: The World's Largest Icefishing Tournament at -50 Degrees

Alex Robinson — Thu, 24 Jan 2013 19:15:29 GMT

Last Saturday, 10,500 people attended the world's largest icefishing tournament in northern Minnesota. They braved 50 mph winds and -50 degree (no that's not a typo) temperatures in hopes of catching a few pike, perch, and walleyes.

Best New Bowhunting Gear for 2013

Alex Robinson — Wed, 23 Jan 2013 16:26:48 GMT

Bowhunting Editor Todd Kuhn hit the Archery Trade Association convention to bring you the best new bowhunting gear for 2013.

New Guns 2013: First Look at New Rifles, Shotguns, and Handguns from SHOT Show

Alex Robinson — Tue, 15 Jan 2013 07:47:06 GMT

Outdoor Life will be covering new guns and gear at SHOT show all week. To kick off our coverage, check out 10 of the coolest new rifles, shotguns, and handguns from media day at the range.

Coyote Hunting Tips: Cutting-Edge Predator Tactics

Alex Robinson — Fri, 11 Jan 2013 21:18:20 GMT

As coyote populations have exploded over the last decade and the popularity of hunting them has skyrocketed, the cunning critters have become increasingly difficult to dupe. Here's how to rewrite the playbook and start dropping more dogs.

Hunting Suburban Coyotes
by John B. Snow

It was the look on the coyote’s face that changed the direction of Cory Lundberg’s life. He was a college student with some free time, so he figured he’d give predator hunting a try. He bought a book on calling coyotes, made his own camouflage, and hiked into a patch of Utah sagebrush with his rabbit squealer call. He set up in a spot that prevented him from being skylined, just like the book said.

“I started calling, and then that first one came in,” Lundberg says. “I’ll never forget the expression on his face. I could see the confusion in his eyes, like he’s looking for the rabbit thinking, I know the stupid thing is in here somewhere. I was addicted right away.”

That first success turned into many more, and since then Lundberg has devoted much of his life to understanding what makes coyotes tick and how to coax them into the open when other hunters have failed. Here’s a look at the most common scenarios he encounters when hunting coyotes—and how he tackles them.

Hunting in Town

Coyotes have established a considerable foothold in suburbia, haunting malls, cul-de-sacs, and other spots where prey is abundant and hunting pressure is nearly nonexistent. This presents hunters with some excellent opportunities, but some additional challenges as well. The biggest, according to Lundberg, is that it isn’t just the hunter versus the coyote—there’s a whole neighborhood to think about. Putting in pre-hunt work to get squared away with local officials and residents is essential.

“First, I’ll check with the police to make sure it is legal, and then I do the same with the city,” Lundberg says. “Then I’ll approach landowners. I like to inform as many people as possible so that they don’t get worried and call the cops when I start hunting.”

When speaking with people in the neighborhood, Lundberg works hard to make a good first impression. “I don’t wear camouflage and I don’t drive fast. I make an effort to be polite and tell folks that there’s been a problem with coyotes in their area and what I’m planning to do. If they have kids or pets, they’re usually pretty receptive.”

This soft touch and low profile extends to his hunting style. Where it’s legal and safe to hunt with centerfire ammunition, he opts for subsonic loads, though most of his suburban hunting is done with a shotgun.

When selecting calls, Lundberg avoids howls, which are a mainstay during the coyote rut in February. They are effective, but they can create other problems. “If you start howling, it can get the dogs in the neighborhood going and create a big racket,” he says. “During mating season, I’ll usually stick to distress sounds—kittens in distress or puppy whimpers. I use a lot more bird sounds near homes: woodpecker calls and other high-pitched noises.”

As for locating good spots to call, he’s found that suburban coyotes can be anywhere. “A lot of guys think you have to head far out of town, but you can find coyotes right off the highway. In the suburbs, they are used to traffic and sounds. They’ll adapt to anything,” he says. “The closer you are to town, the easier they are to call. They don’t get the pressure, they don’t get hunted.”

Because of this lack of pressure, suburban coyotes will respond and come in more quickly when called. In light of this, Lundberg uses a run-and-gun approach and will call for only 10 or 15 minutes (about half the time he devotes to a set in rural areas) before moving on.

Hung-Up Dogs
It’s a classic coyote conundrum. The hunter calls and a coyote appears on the horizon. And there, way out of rifle range, it sits and stays with the patience we all wish our Labs would exhibit in the duck blind, but rarely do.

This is no time to be timid, Lundberg says. In order to close the gap, he turns up the heat, trying different sounds and calling more aggressively.

“I don’t think they know the difference between a cottontail and a jackrabbit, so it doesn’t matter what they’re used to preying on. I recently had two hung up out there at 500 yards, so I just started cycling through sounds,” he says. “They were looking my way, milling around, and one started mousing. Then, once I got to the cottontail-in-distress, they came in. For whatever reason, they liked that higher pitched sound and rapid frequency.”

When coyotes exhibit some reluctance to commit to the caller, Lundberg establishes a “red line” using a reference point in the landscape. Once it’s crossed by the coyote, that’s his indication to shoot. The point is not to get cocky and try to get an especially wary coyote close to your position. Wait too long and you risk that the coyote will spook and bolt.

“I pick a point out there, and once he gets there I’ll stop him with a barking sound and shoot,” Lundberg says.

Charging Pack
It’s the dream scenario for predator hunters: not long after calling, a pack of coyotes comes charging in. But as anyone who’s spent time wingshooting knows, when a covey of quail bursts skyward, it’s much tougher to hit any of them than it is to hit a single bird in flight. So how do you handle multiple coyotes without whiffing?

“If I’m hunting by myself, I’ll try to bring a shotgun along in case this happens,” Lundberg says. “I always let them come as close as I can get them and start with the easiest dog first.

“If I have a rifle, then I shoot the one farthest back and work my way forward,” he says. “The second or third one will usually check back on its friend. When that happens, I hit a pup-in-distress or ki-yi [hurt dog] call, and that sometimes makes them stop, giving me a chance to get a shot at another dog.”

Another approach is to try to shoot the dominant—usually the largest—coyote if you can identify it. With that one down, the others are more likely to hesitate, offering follow-up shots.

If you’re hunting with a buddy, make a plan beforehand, Lundberg says. “One of us will have a shotgun, for sure. The guy with the rifle usually goes for the coyote farthest out, and he’s the one who makes the decision to shoot,” he says. “He’ll bark to stop them all, and after his shot, it’s kind of a free-for-all.”

Montana Hunters Draw Coyotes with Unorthodox Decoying Method
by Brett French

It's a back-and-forth, sometimes deadly dance between dogs and coyotes that’s rarely seen in hunting. When the tactic works, says Ryan Lawson, “Anyone who sees it is in awe.” Using trained mountain curs, the self-dubbed Montana Doggers—Lawson and friends Chad Muus and Levi Johnson—lure coyotes into shooting range, sometimes only an arm’s length away. The coyotes chase the curs—and it often looks downright playful—back to the trio of camouflaged gunners. “There is always action,” says Muus.

Their hunts typically begin in a large bowl-shaped area above a draw or creek (the bowl helps their calls reverberate outward). They spread out just below the top of the rim with the wind in their faces and rocks, bushes, or trees breaking up their outlines.

“I prefer to hunt early in the morning because it’s cooler and less windy, and it’s easier on the dogs,” Johnson says. “I don’t like to hunt in the evenings because if something happens to the dogs, it’s hard to help them in the dark.”

After sitting quietly for about five minutes and getting their rifles situated atop shooting sticks, the hunters start calling. Johnson first uses a mouth call, imitating a howling, yapping coyote. If there’s no response after five minutes of silence, he turns on his electronic digital caller to imitate an injured rabbit. If a coyote still hasn’t appeared, Johnson switches to digital calls of coyote pups in distress.

Johnson compares the calls to a series of challenges. At first he is telling the coyote he is in its house. The next one says, “Hey, I’m in your refrigerator!” The last one says, “Now I’m messing with your family!” If all goes well, he says, the coyotes come in to say, “Get out of here!” It’s only after the coyote makes an appearance that Johnson releases his dogs, Copper and Dezi.

Training Dogs to Decoy
Mountain curs, originally bred to hunt cougars and herd livestock, are one of 19 cur types bred in the United States. The dogs aren’t big, weighing between 45 and 60 pounds when fully grown. And despite their single-mindedness in luring coyotes to their death, curs make great family pets, Johnson says.

To train them, he first used a tanned coyote hide to introduce the pups to their future prey. He would let them fight with it and play tug of war. Their first hunts were simply to acquaint the dogs with the game. Johnson would call in coyotes and Dezi and Copper instinctively ran out to meet them. Initially, the dogs were intimidated, running back to their master with their tails tucked between their legs. As the dogs got more confident, they would run farther out. If the dogs strayed too far and failed to return to Johnson’s whistle, he would tickle them with a small shock from an electronic collar. Now they respond to the collar’s tone to avoid being shocked.

“Now that they’re four and five years old, they know the game,” Johnson says. “They used to work only on sight, but now they go on hearing and smell, too. Sometimes a coyote will come in and we won’t see it, but the dogs will wind it and let me know.”

Because Johnson is the one who has invested the time and effort into training Dezi and Copper, he makes the call on when to shoot, ensuring his dogs are clear before any lead flies. “The main thing is just having your dogs under control,” he says.

Tools of the Trade

The dogs and the calls complement each other, one working when the other cannot or fails. The calls pique the coyote’s curiosity, bringing it into view. The dogs lure the coyote in closer, and keep it focused on them and oblivious to the hunters. If the coyote stops advancing, Johnson will hit the pup-in-distress call, or the curs will turn and chase the coyote before retreating toward the hunters again. When the coyote sees the dogs retreat, its instinct to chase kicks in and it pursues the dogs once more.

“Usually when pairs come in, one will hang up,” Muus says. “When we shoot one and the curs start tearing up its hide, the other one will come in.” The second coyote, attempting to help its mate, dodges back and forth, snapping and barking at the dogs, but never leaving. When it runs far enough away from Johnson’s curs, he calls for the shot.

For the Doggers, these tactics have proven successful. One month, the trio shot 62 coyotes hunting just on weekends. Their longest shots have ranged out to 640 yards, but typically the coyotes come in much closer, sometimes within 5 feet.

Their gear lets them go long distance when necessary. Each man shoots a slightly different customized setup. Johnson and Lawson shoot Remington Model 700 SPS rifles modified with Jewell triggers set at 1 pound of pull. Johnson tops his rifle with a Vortex Viper 6.5–20x50 scope. Lawson uses a Viper HS LR 6–24x50. Muus and Lawson’s rifles are chambered in .243 Win. Muus shoots a Ruger modified with a Timney trigger, a Leupold VX-3 6.5–20x50 scope on top, and loaded with Sierra MatchKing 107-grain HPBT bullets. Johnson shoots 55-grain Nosler Trophy Grade Varmint loads in his .22/250. All three rifles have H-S Precision Pro-Series Sporter stocks.

Average Joes
Prior to focusing on their Montana Doggers gig, the trio became friends when they all guided deer and elk hunters for the same outfitter in central Montana. But they don’t guide hunters to shoot coyotes—Johnson is too worried that an excited client might shoot one of his dogs instead of the coyote—so the three hold down regular jobs. Muus makes his money in the North Dakota oil fields on a work-over rig, Lawson is a pipefitter at an oil refinery, and Johnson is a town maintenance worker.

United by a love of all types of hunting, and interested in videotaping their unusual canine encounters, the trio formed the Montana Doggers two years ago and produced a DVD with the hope that a television network would see their unique hunts and sign them for a full show. That hasn’t happened yet, but there are other incentives to their coyote hunts.

“I do it because it opens up doors with ranchers,” Lawson says. “They often will let us come hunt during big-game season, too.”

Even without that side benefit, the Doggers enjoy hunting with each other in the vast, coulee-cut sagebrush prairies of eastern Montana. The outings are always a bit competitive, with bragging rights going to the one who makes the best, longest, or most difficult shot. Good-natured boasting follows a top shot; ridicule comes after a coyote is missed. They sometimes make whoever blows a shot wear a red clown suit as a mark of shame. “Trust me, around this bunch you don’t want to miss,” Johnson says.

Tactics for Nocturnal Eastern Predators
by Ben Swenson

The moon hasn’t yet risen when Chuck Taylor and Jonathan Cawley silently slip out of the truck, parked beside a small field of sorghum. Only a couple of distant sounds—some yippy family dog and a church bell—echo in the night. “There’s no wind,” whispers Taylor. “That’s good.”

Taylor and Cawley are president and editor-in-chief, respectively, of the six-year-old North Carolina Predator Hunters Association. The way they hunt coyotes at night—which North Carolina’s Wildlife Resources Commission began allowing for the first time last August—differs little from the way they hunt during the day, save for a red spotlight used to illuminate the dodgy dogs’ eyes. (Ed. Note: In November, a Wake County Superior Court Judge issued a preliminary injunction halting coyote hunting at night with the aid of artificial light in five eastern North Carolina counties.) Hunting Eastern coyotes at night, however, gives hunters a leg up, as the animals have largely become nocturnal. Nevertheless, night hunts still require great care to fool the coyotes’ keen senses, including their ability to see well in low light. The Eastern states’ general lack of wide-open tracts means that everything—landscape features, hunters, and coyotes—is in close proximity.

“The hunt begins at the truck,” says Taylor. That’s because coyotes’ acute hearing can detect unnatural noises. Loud conversation, slamming doors, clanging gear, and heavy footsteps are all audible warnings to predators that something’s amiss. Calling in coyotes at night is far from a sure thing, explains Taylor, who has killed some two dozen of them. “I can’t guarantee we’ll kill a coyote tonight,” he says, “but we’ll have a good time trying.”

Pre-Hunt Prep
The men know there are coyotes in the area—Cawley has heard them howling at night. A couple of days before, he scouted sites near his home in rural Corinth, about an hour southwest of Raleigh. Cawley talked to neighbors and picked a few promising spots that likely contain coyote dens—among them a couple of brushy bottoms and the field where they’re now prepping for a nighttime ambush. He made note during daylight of good shooting lanes and structures to avoid.

The pair slinks into the rows of crops and sets up near the crest of a gentle rise, a forested edge not quite 150 yards downhill in front of them. Cawley, seated, points his .223 bolt-action rifle in the direction from which the dogs are most likely to arrive. Taylor sits a few yards away, positions his spotlight, and readies his mouth calls. No electronics tonight. They wait in silence for 10 minutes, letting the night’s stillness envelop them. Taylor pierces the calm with a locating call—mimicking a lost coyote—in three 20-second bursts. He powers on the red spotlight afterward, slowly sweeping the slope in front of them, looking for beady eyes reflecting the glow. Nothing. Taylor dims the light and again they melt into the silence.

For the next half hour Taylor repeats various calls—a cottontail in distress, a field mouse, a coyote pup—following in measured sequence with a sweep of the light and a lull in movement. Taylor has more calls, but just as in flyfishing, he says, coyote hunters must “match the hatch.” The calls he’s using for this fall hunt are the most appropriate for the location and season. The cottontail and mouse are precisely the animals that would be feeding on the sorghum in this field, and a pup would yelp excitedly if it snagged one of these meals.

The Waiting Game
They sit longer still, waiting. “When you think it’s time to get up, wait 15 more minutes,” Taylor says. “I can’t tell you how many dogs I’ve seen that way.” At one point during that long wait, he illuminates a distant patch of tall grass. There’s s a jerky, unnatural movement, but nothing emerges. Two deer later appear at the edge of the field. Taylor reads them like a book. “They’re standing there, not a care in the world,” he says. “It’s time to go.”

They drive a short distance to a cutover and again take an uphill position intended to draw the coyotes up a rise. This time, after several rounds of calling, two different packs of coyotes, far apart, respond, filling the night with a chorus of howls. Taylor keeps at the routine—calling, sweeping, pausing—but the coyotes won’t come in. They’re on edge tonight, elusive and distant. But surely, one night soon, curiosity will get the best of one of the pack, perhaps more, and Taylor and Cawley will be there in the dark, waiting and ready.

14 Exotic Hunts You Can (Probably) Afford from the Dallas Safari Club Convention

Alex Robinson — Wed, 09 Jan 2013 15:36:19 GMT

The world is full of good hunting land. To help you zero in on some of the most exciting and affordable exotic hunts, we hit the floor Dallas Safari Club Convention. Here are our top 14 picks.

New Crossbows 2013: A First Look at the Best New Crossbows of the Year

Alex Robinson — Mon, 07 Jan 2013 14:26:40 GMT

As crossbows grow in popularity, manufacturers are constantly striving to make faster, cheaper, safer, and more accurate bows. Here's a first look at the new crossbows for 2013.

Photos: Wisconsin Bowhunter Takes 181-Inch Buck

Alex Robinson — Wed, 02 Jan 2013 17:12:54 GMT

This buck showed up on trail camera photos in 2010 and then disappeared for two years. See how Chad Statz was able to take this bruiser while bowhunting last fall.

The 50 Best Outdoor Life Reader Photos of 2012

Alex Robinson — Thu, 27 Dec 2012 20:41:44 GMT

It was a good year to be an Outdoor Life reader. Check out the 50 best photos uploaded to our bragging board in 2012.

A Deer for My Dad

Alex Robinson — Fri, 21 Dec 2012 19:48:17 GMT

The first three deer to come by me were ridge-flat regulars—I’d seen them before, both on trail camera and in person. The lead whitetail, a piebald button buck, was a welcome sight, even though I had cursed him so many times these past few weeks. At first a curiosity, the little buck had become something of a nuisance during bow season due to his ravenous appetite for the apples that covered the leaves near my stone-wall ground stand and his proclivity for busting every good setup.

But I never thought that the cool-looking little deer would be capable of running the gauntlet of hunters during general firearms season, so it was good to see him in this final hour of the final day. A doe and an I’d-probably-shoot-him-on-any-other-day 8-pointer followed, each glowering at their backtrails as they picked their way toward my food plots several hundred yards down the hill.

It’s always exciting to see deer on the last day of the season, but missing was any rush of adrenaline—for good reason. There was another deer around, or at least I hoped that he was still around. It was a buck the likes of which I’d waited my entire life to take. It’s why I never even thought to flick the safety off on the 8-point.

That other buck had haunted my trail camera for a solid month and left me day- (and night) dreaming of killing him. In a land of dinks and almost-shooters, this was a bona fide stud. Hell, he’d qualify as such in Kansas. He was a perfect 10-point, so symmetrical that I thought my buddies were playing some sort of cruel practical joke on me when I first saw the photos. What would he score? Who knew? Who cared? I surely didn’t. But what I did know was that I’d never seen a larger rack on any buck on my family’s property in all the years of living there—nor had anyone else who hunted our little patch of New England deer woods.

I barely had time to wonder why those first three deer might be so unnerved when a single thought screamed in my brain…

“Buck!”
That simple word and a thin smile were pretty much the only signs of acknowledgement Dad had been capable of during Thanksgiving dinner two weeks earlier. In addition to some snapshots I’d taken of our deer camp, I had downloaded a couple dozen trail-camera photos to my phone to show him in the hope that seeing a photo of that buck on his property might ignite a spark of recognition in his brain—that he’d somehow come back to me even if only for a moment or two. You see, that’s mostly what we—families of Alzheimer’s sufferers—pray for. Something. Anything. A glimpse or a glint, some little part of the old Dad would do. And I got that little gift.

If there’s a more insidious disease than Alzheimer’s, I certainly can’t conceive of it. What other ailment kills a host’s loved ones years before actually killing the host? And make no mistake, my family (no different from any other Alzheimer’s family) has been dying in fits and starts for more than a decade. No one is capable of standing by helplessly while watching a father, a spouse, or a dear friend fight their own mind without losing a part of themselves. Even harder is watching a once-brilliant engineer, capable of taking anything apart and putting it back together, struggle for hours on end to solve simple word-search puzzles.

Truth be known, Dad wasn’t really a deer nut—never shot one, actually—but he did hunt with me each season and both tolerated and nurtured my addiction to chasing whitetails. He bought me my first deer-hunting coat when I was 15, and he lugged an extension ladder a half mile through the woods to build my first treestand. We drove three hours through a ferocious ice storm in his brown Buick LeSabre one Thanksgiving night just because I told him that the bowhunting the next morning would be incredible after such a weather event. He gave me my first sip of whiskey after I spent too many hours in that same stand during a blizzard. Even though it’s been years since Dad has hunted, he always liked to hear my stories of deer missed or deer killed and other adventures at our family’s little hunting camp—or at least it seemed as if he did.

A Deer for the Ages
Somehow, the trail-camera photo of the huge buck brought that particular Dad back to me, if only for a moment before he went away again. But it was enough—I knew that he knew. And so it was that after 1 ½ months of frustration during bow season, and much of the same during the firearms hunt, I felt the sort of motivation I remember feeling two decades ago, when he and I used to sit within sight of each other in the deer woods and I wished for a buck to walk by so that I could do my dad proud. I decided that I needed to show Dad one more photo—the one in which I’m holding that buck’s rack in my hands in front of the camp where he and I had spent the greatest days of our lives.

“Buck! It’s Him”
Just five minutes or so after the last of the three deer walked out of sight, I finally spotted the reason for their preoccupation. Even at 80 yards there was no mistaking him—that magnificent rack, burly body, and gait of dominance. It was the one I had come to think of as Dad’s deer. Whether it was the cautiousness of his years or my impatience, I still can’t be sure, but the damned buck seemed not to move no matter how hard I wished him to—neither would he give me a broadside shot. This stasis lasted long minutes and was physically draining. I didn’t dare stare him directly in the eyes, but I didn’t dare look away either. When he’d finally take a noiseless step, he’d stop to scrutinize the frozen woods, and it seemed his intensity bored right into me. He closed from 80 to 50 yards but I still hadn’t heard a footfall on the frost-brittle leaves. He still would not turn broadside.

Okay, I’ll shoot you dead-on facing me if I need to, you big bastard, I thought. It’s not ideal, but if you get too close I’m going to shoot. I’m not gonna blow this one.

As if eavesdropping on my conversation with myself, the buck somehow cut the distance to 35 yards, though I swear I didn’t see him take a step. And then he turned. Using my knee as a solid rest, I snicked the safety forward, put the shotgun’s bead on his chest, and squeezed it off. The big buck kicked high with his rear legs—a good thing—before tearing off for parts unknown—a very bad thing. Then the woods became still again. I sat there in agony listening for many soundless minutes and fighting off the urge to run to the place where the buck last stood. As much as I wished to see him lying there dead in the light skiff of snow, to run my hands along his main beams, I feared more the agonizing what-ifs.

What if he was still alive and I pushed him to a nearby hunter, who shot him?
What if he was still alive and I pushed him into some far-off thicket, never to be recovered?
What if I missed him completely?
What if I wouldn’t be able to show Dad that single, all-revealing photograph?

Diminishing daylight made the decision to give the buck time a bit easier. Judging from his size on the trail camera, I’d need help getting him out of the woods anyway. I’d go back to camp, have a beer or two to calm down, and make a few phone calls.

To the Woodpile
Three torment-filled hours later, I finally received a return call.

“You got him,” said a familiar voice on the other end of the line, not in the form of a question, but rather a statement. “We’re all at a Christmas party, but give me 20 minutes and I’ll be there.” I never got the chance to respond before the phone clicked. The cavalry was on its way. If anyone could help me find the buck, it was my friend Rich Hamilton.

In typical subdued fashion, Rich walked through the door, asked to hear the story, then wasted no time heading out the door again. Although he’d not been there with me, he took the lead in our search for blood.

“Well, this ain’t worth a sh&$,” he said when the beam of his flashlight hit a single drop on the snow. “Not worth a sh&$ at all.”

And he was right. Even with the skiff of snow on the ground, it was difficult to find a second drop. The hoped-for salvation of all sunset shooters—a blood trail a blind man could follow—was not revealing itself. My heart sank.

“Well, he fell here,” Rich deadpanned, now following the running tracks in the windblown spots of snow. “Fell here, too.”

Our flashlight beams fell on the giant rack simultaneously. He hadn’t gone more than 50 yards.

“Look at that giant son of a bitch,” Rich said. “Oh…my…God.”

I’d never before seen a more magnificent sight. Dad’s deer had come to rest in a boggy thicket amid a jungle of briars, his rack seemingly floating 5 feet above the ground. Under the moonlight, we could see the faint lights of camp and billowing woodsmoke pouring from the chimney. We unashamedly hugged and shouted, then struggled to get the big deer onto a dry hummock for field dressing. In all honesty, I was of no help.

“Here, hold the flashlight,” Rich said after my first header into the muck. “I need to gut this deer. I want to gut this deer.”

An hour later, and too tired to move him any farther, much less hang him up, Rich and I wrestled the buck to the top of the basement woodpile. We stepped back a few feet to simply stare at the deer for the first time in full light—at a complete loss for words.

After Rich left, I stood and stared some more—long into the night—just me with the buck and thoughts of a hunting season incomparable and unreproducible. And of my Dad.
By the next day, everyone who cared to hear the story, and some who didn’t, came by the house. After a while, 10 of us—each grabbing an antler, a hoof, a leg, or the tail—carried the buck outside and into the sunshine. Embarrassingly unprepared for a photo session, I handed my camera phone to one of the kids and asked him to click off a few pictures. I really only needed one.

Instead of fading with time, my exhilaration seemed to grow in the days that followed. I told the story countless dozens of times and emailed photos to friends around the country, but it wouldn’t be until Christmas Day, two weeks later, that I would see Mom and Dad.

Merry Christmas
“He’s not having such a good day today,” my mom said when she hugged me at the front door. “Just sit with him for a while.”

And I did. I told him our story and showed him our buck, but his eyes remained focused on the word-search puzzle book in his lap, as he haltingly circled letters—the sound of my voice either unheard or completely foreign.

“Hey, Grandpa!”

Somehow, my daughter, Amy, has always been able to garner Dad’s instant attention, and she did again on Christmas Day.

“Merry Christmas,” Dad said as Amy hugged him in his chair, word-search book falling to the floor. The hours Mom spent rehearsing those two words with him had paid off. Tears welled in his eyes as he smiled at a face he fought his own brain to recognize.

I picked up his book as they hugged, Amy trying in vain to engage Dad in conversation but getting no response. Glancing down at the crumpled page, my eyes focused on three circled letters: D-O-E.

My Dad was back, if only for a moment or two, before he was gone again.

The Real Story Behind the Infamous "Alberta Grizzly"

Alex Robinson — Fri, 21 Dec 2012 14:22:16 GMT

This photo of a massive "Alberta Grizzly" has made it's way around the Internet for years now. But Live Hunt host Tyler Freel has the real story behind the bear.

Hunt for Monster Illinois Buck Caught on Trail Camera

Alex Robinson — Wed, 19 Dec 2012 10:16:12 GMT

Buddy Wilkins' first archery buck was a monster Illinois whitetail. He also happened to catch his hunt on a series of trail camera photos. Check out the shots here.

Record Quest: Taking a Record-Book Mule Deer in Colorado

Alex Robinson — Tue, 18 Dec 2012 03:05:27 GMT

Shooting Editor John B. Snow took this massive mule deer while hunting Colorado last month. See the details of his hunt here.

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