Results by search “gave” 26
SHCHI – Russian Sauerkraut soup with wild meat and porcini mushrooms.
This traditional Russian recipe, like many other recipes of Russian cuisine, may seem very strange. But believe me, Russians know a lot about winter warming soups. It just needs to be tried! This strange combination of seemingly incompatible ingredients creates the uniqueness of Russian cuisine, which is replete with nutritious and vitamin-rich dishes in the cold season.
I got this unusual version of the traditional Russian soup as a result of an experiment that exceeded all expectations. I decided to add wild roe deer meat and porcini mushrooms to the classic cabbage soup recipe, which gave the dish a special tenderness and rich taste and make it a real hunting recipe.
Russian sour cabbage soup, or SHCHI, that I prepared using wild roe deer meat hunted in Belarus, is a unique interpretation of this classic dish. To enhance the flavors, I added cranberries from the Nalibokskaya Pushcha, known for their vibrant ta
In Horn of the Hunter, Robert Ruark describes two Cape buffalo he took on his first safari, in 1951, in (then) Tanganyika with Harry Selby. The first was wounded and gave the pair a hell of a time until he finally succumbed. The second, which had much bigger and more massive horns, was also wounded, and disappeared into a dense thicket.
Selby and Ruark looked at each other, then sat down to smoke a cigarette. As the minutes wore on, Ruark became more and more anxious about what was to come. Then Selby invited him to accompany him as he went after the buffalo — a serious compliment as you know if you’ve ever been in that situation. Ruark steeled himself, checked his .470, and off they went. The tracking took some time. It probably seemed much longer than it was, but that’s the way these things work, as they crept along, expecting a charge at any second.
Creating a Tribal Restoration Workforce
The rain slowly fell on a cool May morning as a small crowd of people gathered in a pullout alongside an old logging road in Ketchikan. The blend of official U.S. Forest Service vehicles and uniforms intermixed with private vehicles and casual clothes gave a clue to the diversity of people in attendance. The crowd was comprised of varied backgrounds and employers. Tribal members, hydrologists, fisheries biologists, chainsaw crews, and various staff were all there for one thing: to teach and learn the skills necessary to restore streams and improve fish habitat in the Tongass National Forest.
In the summer of 2021, the Forest Service announced their plan to move away from large scale, old-growth logging in the Tongass and instead invest in restoration, recreation, and forest resilience. This new strategy is welcome news on the Tongass, which is part of the largest intact temperate rainforest on the planet, and the robust tourism economy and subs
🇺🇸 An epic hunt that gave us the opportunity to explore some incredible and untouched areas, where we found not only plenty of Marals, but an adventure like no other. Not every day one gets the privilege of hunting on these beautiful mountains surrounded by wolves, bears, ibex, and wild boars amongst other creatures. This majestic and huge bull was spotted on our first hunting day, and from that moment we knew he was the one we wanted, which somehow, made our adventure even more special. Trophy aside, the way this Maral patrolled his area was a clear sign of dominance and no other bull dared to confront him during the 3 days we tried to cut distance with him. Regarding the trophy, the weight of the antlers -despite having to wait for the skull to dry out completely, where the expected weight loss could be up to 2 kg- proves this will clearly be the biggest Maral harvested in the area this year. Luck is an important factor, but without attitude and resilience, none of this would have
While I’ve been blessed to travel North America in search of big whitetails, I live and hunt mostly in Kentucky. But, growing up, I didn’t have enough access to let properties soak until gun season. I only had one or two places to go, and I wanted to hunt. I’m more avid about bowhunting than gun hunting anyway. So, it just never made sense to not hunt at the earliest opportunity.
Then, in 2015, I started leasing another property, which gave me additional access here at home. Since then, except for a few seasons, the practice has been to leave the property unhunted until rifle season in November.
My anecdotal theory is that whitetails will get pressured by neighboring bowhunters, which will push deer onto the lease, ultimately “stacking” deer onto it for gun season.
Furthermore, if I or another lease member happen to pressure a mature deer once gun season opens, it’s less likely to vacate the area given that the rut is already in motion. Interestingly, studies show bucks are less lik
The Lost Art of Hunting
I’ve never been in a hunting situation where my success determined whether or not I got to eat that night, but I’ve been close. When I was in college, I usually had just enough money to buy a burger off the value menu on any given evening. And I was OK with that. The only problem besides being a poor college kid was the fact that I much preferred to put that change toward .22 rimfire cartridges and gas to get to my favorite squirrel hunting woods.
Ryan, Bandit, Squeaky and I would pitch in for a group squirrel-gathering effort at least once a week when the fall season was open. This also gave us a good reason to skip class. After hunting, we’d prepare wild game dinners right there in the little dormitory kitchen. We ate squirrel and dumplings, squirrel and cream of mushroom soup, Cajun-fried squirrel, lemon-pepper squirrel and of course, Kentucky Burgoo. Often as not, we ended up feeding a half-dozen other residents who smelled hot grease and gathered around ou
I shot this button buck Saturday night while sitting at the base of a giant oak tree. Three does came out of the cedars earlier that evening, but they were about 155 yards away and moving at a pretty good clip. Then this young deer came out, and when he finally moved out from behind a couple trees in front of me, he stopped quartering toward me and gave me a shot at about 75 yards.
I don’t prefer to hunt with a muzzleloader, but the December season seems to be about the only time I get the opportunity to hunt deer. The shot rang and after a moment of blindness, the smoke cleared. I saw the deer bolt about 50 yards to my right. I thought I’d missed him, but as he approached a couple lone cedar trees in the open, he made a sharp, confused U-turn, and then crashed down into the dry creek bed to the north. I almost expected him to get up and continue running over the hill, or slip away down the dry bed.
Trembling, I reloaded my gun. If he was there, I needed to give him time to die with
THE WOLF OF MY DREAMS!!!… The challenges of wolf hunting- you sit there staring into space, in a fog, your mind goes numb, for who knows how long… then all of a sudden, it happens. And when you spot a wolf, or a pack of wolves, your emotions REDLINE!!! You go from a lethargic daze to gasping for air… IT’S WILD!!! Let me tell you the story of this wolf… My friend Mark McKay, Richy and I were climbing in our blind at daybreak. I was sliding my feet into the bottom of my Heater Body Suit and just about to zip it up when I heard someone say, “WOLVES!!!”
Remember the emotions I was telling you about. 🤯🤯🤯… Mark scooted into the blind and informed us he had just seen the whole pack, and they were coming our way! I quietly racked a shell in my Browning 7mm, and gave myself a pep talk about gathering my “chickens!” Eight wolves came into sight!!! They were about 170 yards away down over the ledge of a beaver dam. They held up just barely in a small shooting lane. That’s when I noti
Hunting stories
3 years in the making: A bowhunt for bull elk. By WYATT O'DAY
My love of bowhunting started around the age of four when my father gave me my first bow. Every night, I would go outside and shoot with him. As a kid I dreamed of the hunt and when I would finally kill my first bull elk with a bow. By the age of six, my father started taking me elk hunting with him. I watched him hunt as he called in and killed multiple bulls in front of me. Then, finally it was here — the year that I had been waiting for so long had come: the year that I was old enough to hunt!
At 12 years old, I had several encounters with bulls, but was never presented a clear shot. The second year, I had a total of six nocked arrow encounters with bulls, but still no shot. Finally, the third year rolled around and at 14 years old, I was more than ready for my first bull.
Day one of opening weekend
On the first morning, my dad and I went to a spot that he has hunted a lot over the years and had succes
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