Author: Larry Weishuhn

This was the conversation taking place at the Harrisburg Sports Show. “I’ve tried rattling for the past three years. Nothing has responded. I’m probably scaring deer away! I think you’re promoting another Texas myth,” a red and black plaid-shirted attendee exclaimed. I looked around the room where I was speaking. Several people attending my assigned topic, “Rattling Whitetails,” nodded in agreement. This occurred years ago before that huge outdoor show was taken over by the National Rifle Association. I retorted with a smile. “Another Texas myth?  Let’s talk a bit more about rattling, then later you can tell me what…

The Whitetail buck—one that my compadres on both sides of the Rio Bravo would have called a “muy grande”—stood 50 steps away, staring at me. Under any other circumstances, I would have been shooting or already would have taken my shot. Unfortunately, my rifle was leaned against a fence post just out of reach. That’s where I had placed it before attempting to crawl over a five-strand barbed-wire fence. I stared at the buck. He stared back watching me with great interest. The top wire was stretched tight. I had one foot on the left side of the fence and…

“Would you shoot or pass? And if you’d shoot him, why?” Those questions were asked of me by a bowhunter as he handed me a trail camera photo, right after I had finished a presentation to the monthly meeting of the Dallas Safari Club. I inspected the deer in the photo. As I looked closely, the hunter continued, “And in your opinion, what’s the difference between a management buck and a trophy buck?” I smiled and asked, “Do you also want me to guess your age and weight?” “OK, O Great Wise One,” came the retort, as my questioner smiled.…

As a youngster growing up “out in the country,” I always had a knife on my belt or in my pocket. Knives were tools—necessary tools. They served many purposes: skinning and cutting up rabbits and squirrels, cleaning fish, digging worms, creating kindling to start a campfire or a fire in our home’s wood stove. They also provided a way to cut hay bale strings and feed sacks, and they occasionally served as a pry bar or a screwdriver. The list goes on and on. When anyone needed a knife, no matter the purpose, I always introduced mine (which was either…

“Why did you not shoot that buck? He walked to within less than 20 feet of where you were hidden under that pile of corn stalks,” exclaimed the smiling neighboring farmer when I walked back to my pickup, which was parked at his gate. I simply shook my head. For most of the Iowa late muzzleloader season, I had targeted and hunted one individual buck. He was “just an eight-point,” but that eight-point carried antler mass the size of a soft-drink can from just above his antler burs to nearly the end of his tines. His shortest tines were his…

In an ideal world I never would have quit hunting Canada for whitetails, especially with my long-time friend Ron Nemetchek and his North River Outfitting. Simply to quit hunting Alberta had been a matter of economics, not the cost of the hunt, but the cost of time. As a producer of outdoor television shows I could go to Canada, hunt for a week, and, hopefully produce one really interesting episode. Or, I could during those same nine days hunt two different destinations in the States, produce two shows complete with numerous encounters and likely show the taking of two mature…