Last fall, I pushed hard into the whitetail woods, intent on ending a season-long drought that had a collection of unused deer tags sitting in my wallet.
On one trip, I shivered in late November cold on a windy stand high up in an ancient cottonwood tree along a Nebraska river bottom. Those all-day, dark-to-dark sits tested my willpower, not to mention my sanity as I looked for a Cornhusker giant to travel back to Texas with me after a stay at Prairie Rock Outfitters.
A few days later in early December, I was near the Red River with North Texas Outfitters, trying desperately to avoid another round of tag soup recipes, sitting through cold mornings and mild afternoons as I...
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