Alert man, in pursuit of pheasants.
by Terry Wieland
From the November/December 2008 issue.

There is no melancholy quite like heading out for the last day of bird season. The trees are gray, the ground like iron, and early snow swirls austerely in front of the car—the advance guard of winter, as sinister as a prowling mamba.

Judging feel is all in the hands.
by Terry Wieland
from the August 2008 issue

But that’s not how the word is usually applied to shotguns. Instead, we’re discussing how the gun feels when held in two hands, held at the ready, moved gently back and forth, and brought to the shoulder after an imaginary flushing grouse.

A century-old idea is the newest new thing.
by Terry Wieland
From the May/June 2008 issue.

“Hook and bullet” is a term long used to describe the stratum of outdoor magazines devoted to fishing and hunting. No one knows who coined the phrase, which is mildly derogatory but brilliantly concise: hooks and bullets are the precise points where anglers and hunters first come into physical contact with the objects of their desire. 

They may be small, but at least they’re my own.
by Terry Wieland
From the August 2006 issue.

To be first is everything. To be second, nothing. In the dog-eat-dog world of Victorian exploration, Captain Burton’s words are harshly accurate. With the notable exception of Scott of the Antarctic (in which case fewer remember who got there first), no one remembers who got there second.