Bow Hunting Grand Slam 2007

By Mac Moad

The first week of October was finally here.  The first three days were spent in my favorite stand watching 3 raccoons in which I had named Larry, Curly, and Moe.  The mother raccoon was slightly bigger than the two younger ones, and seemed curious to every movement surrounding them.  The days here in eastern Oklahoma in October were still in the 80’s with mosquitoes buzzing everywhere.  I was wondering if it were still to hot to hunt and questioned myself again over and over.  Each day so far, I had hunted morning and evening with only a few does showing up. Read the story »

Interview With Will Graves: Author, “Wolves in Russia: Anxiety Through The Ages”

Below is an interview, moderated by Jim Beers, with Will Graves, author. It took place on January 24, 2010 in response to reports of cystic Hydatid disease from worms that have been reported in wolves in Idaho and Montana.

Jim Beers is a retired US Fish & Wildlife Service Wildlife Biologist, Special Agent, Refuge Manager, Wetlands Biologist, and Congressional Fellow. He was stationed in North Dakota, Minnesota, Nebraska, New York City, and Washington DC. He also served as a US Navy Line Officer in the western Pacific and on Adak, Alaska in the Aleutian Islands. He has worked for the Utah Fish & Game, Minneapolis Police Department, and as a Security Supervisor in Washington, DC. He testified three times before Congress; twice regarding the theft by the US Fish & Wildlife Service of $45 to 60 Million from State fish and wildlife funds and once in opposition to expanding Federal Invasive Species authority. He resides in Eagan, Minnesota with his wife of many decades.

Jim Beers is available for consulting or to speak.

Learn more about Will Graves below. Read the story »

Merry Christmas!

Through Better Men than I

By Master Sargent Mike Sibley

I can hear their whispers wherever I go. “Control your breathing, concentrate on the blade, and squeeze.” “Feel your way along with your toes instead of watching your feet.” “Work your way down through that black-growth and you’ll find ‘em in that stand of beech.” So persistent are they that I sympathize with a schizophrenic who feels as if he’s never alone. Unlike him, my voices are not a psychotic delusion created by chemical imbalances crying out for the saving grace of lithium. Real men spoke those words and no amount of time or distance will ever silence them. They are my last connection to a past that I crave but know I’ll never see. They define the man who hears them. And I pray they shape the lives of my sons. Read the story »