The Longest Night

Tearing Up the Brush

By Kenneth R. Adamson There were a thousand thoughts zipping through my mind as I crouched in my makeshift blind, straining to hear a hint of sound that would let me know that I was not all alone here in the woods. Thoughts such as, did I blow it? Did the wind spook the bull? Should I just pack up and leave quietly and return tomorrow? Should I have tried stalking the noises I had heard? Will I hit a branch if I get a shot? Is this hunt going to be one of those that end up as a good story, but no meat?

The Longest Night

By Michael J. O’Haco, Jr. It was the first weekend in August 1985, and I was out of town. I called home because I knew the Arizona hunting permits should be in the mail. My wife Linda said there was good news and bad news: I said I wanted the bad news first. She said that I had not received an elk permit. However, the good news was that I had received a deer and pronghorn permit. Already having a mule deer in the Arizona state records book, I was pleased at having drawn a deer permit, but not half as pleased as I was with the pronghorn permit. This was the twentieth time I had applied for an pronghorn permit; the 19 previous times I had been rejected. The computer finally came through.

Old Flare

By Lester A. Kish To say that hunting is a sport of luck is an understatement. In 1990, I had the good fortune to draw a bighorn sheep permit in Montana’s Unit 213, near Anaconda. With odds exceeding 100 to 1, just drawing the permit was an incredible stroke of luck.

Cat and Mouse

By Ronald N. Franklin I had just received the news I had been drawn for one of the toughest units to get a tag in the Arizona draw. I called everyone I knew to pass on my good fortune. Everyone was so excited and ready to help on the hunt. Then the sleepless nights started, dreaming of big bulls screaming and rutting. For more of B&C's Audio Adventures, visit: https://www.boone-crockett.org/tags/bc-audio-adventures #Hunting

A Hunting Tradition

By Charles J. Hogeland I am only a young man, but hunting is a family tradition that is already dear to my heart. I went on my first hunting trip with my father, mother, and six-year-old brother when I was three months old. Hunting is bred into me, as I come from at least five generations of hunters. For more of B&C's Audio Adventures, visit: https://www.boone-crockett.org/tags/bc-audio-adventures