Bowhunter brings you expert advice from legendary Bowhunters! Each issue is filled with updates from major bowhunting organizations, coverage of bowhunting locations across North America, complete coverage of the sport and much more.
IT WAS 1997. The place was Chesterfield Inlet, Nunavut, on the western shore of Hudson Bay. We’d boated 32 miles into the inlet to bowhunt caribou, and the hunting was tough. None of the hunters had a caribou as of the last day of the hunt. We were supposed to run back to the village of Chesterfield Inlet on Saturday afternoon. Instead, we decided to hunt one more evening, then leave Sunday morning. Bad decision. At 3:55 a.m., we awoke to gale-force winds. Two of our freighter canoes were beached on the rocks, and the 18-foot runabout-style boat was upside down on the rocks in the bay. The anchor had broken loose, and it was low tide. Our native guides flipped the boat over, flushed the motor, added new oil,…
MY HEART RATE was already elevated because of the dozen or so does that had already filtered through my setup. As I watched the sun set below the horizon, I knew that at any moment a mature buck could slip into view. Nicknamed the “Ghost Of The Pacific Northwest,” Columbian blacktails are known to be creatures of the night — especially right after they strip their velvet in late August — and with temperatures hovering in the high 80s, releasing an arrow was no doubt going to be a last-light proposition. With time dwindling from hours to minutes, deer started to seep from the woods like a slow leak. Does were the first to appear, with a couple of young bucks in tow. As I watched them feed under the…
I’VE SPENT the better part of my life guiding hunters across the West and have been blessed with amazing opportunities to hunt, guide, and develop a life time network of outfitters, clients, and friends with a knowl edge of international hunting experiences. Wh I was 13, I accompanied my father, Wade Lemon, and a pack of hounds to Africa where Dad pioneered leopard hunting with hounds. This sparked my love to travel and experience hunting on a worldwide scale. As a young kid, I remember Dad’s dislike for bows and arrows. Having had some unfortunate mishaps in the field, he preferred rifle hunters. As a joke to my father, some close friends and clients started to nurture me into bowhunting. The joke really got played when they sent me a…
IT TOOK OVER A DECADE TO DRAW THE TAGS, BUT THIS IS ONE HUNT THAT EXCEEDED EXPECTATIONS. My ears were still ringing when I walked up to Jared with a smile on my face and said, “Son, keep in mind, what you just experienced is not what real elk hunting is like.” It was the first morning of Jared’s first elk hunt — the first setup — and it was mayhem. I’d positioned my oldest son, Jason, to my left and Jared to my right — in a pincher formation — while I hung back and did the bugling and cow talk. There were bulls bugling in every direction. A herd bull was screaming to the north, raghorns right and left, and a good 5x5 running up from behind me.…
IT SEEMS TO ME, that hunting is a constant search for greater perspective. Greater perspective of the terrain, the quarry, the world, and myself. Over the years, I’ve had numerous opportunities to talk to fellow hunters packing out early and empty-handed, only a couple days after their arrival in the backcountry. Often, as we chat, they share their excitement in planning and preparing for the seven to 10-day hunt, and then they share their disappointment as they head home when their hunt has only just begun. Everyone’s situation is unique, but I find that focusing on results or a specific outcome tends to diminish perspective of, and gratitude for, the opportunity we have to pursue big game. Finding gratitude for the daily adventures and appreciating all that surrounds us in…
It’s 3 a.m. and rain is pouring hard outside. The noise of the drops hitting the tent roof has awakened me. It is hard to sleep, not just because of the sound, but more because of what it means. Rain is bad for hunting. It’s June and the rainy season in Mozambique should have been over, but this year, for some reason, it is giving us a hard time. With my eyes open in pure darkness, my demons are sitting next to me on my bed. Yes, we all have our little demons that sit by our side, just to highlight all the things that are going wrong now, and the bad things that are coming our way… Much has gone against us on this trip, way before we even…
