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Field & StreamField & Stream

Field & Stream February/March 2018

"The World's Leading Outdoor Magazine." devoted to the complete outdoor experience and lifestyle.

United States
Bonnier Corporation
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9 Issues


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fighting the good fight

AS THIS, OUR “AMERICAN ICONS ISSUE,” was coming together, I couldn’t have been more enthusiastic about it. After all, a lot of hard work went into the stories you’re about to read. We interviewed 10 legendary outdoorsmen for their most lasting bits of wisdom (p. 68); we dusted off some classic and timeless outdoor tools, all made in the U.S.A., for a special gear section (p. 59); and most exciting, we sent writers and photographers to some of the most beautiful wild places in the country to celebrate and showcase the greatest resource we, as sportsmen, have—our public lands (p. 27). There was, and is, a lot to be proud of in these pages. But then on Dec. 4, 2017, just as we were wrapping the issue, President Trump announced that…

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save the date

March is a big month for our resident Wild Chef, Jonathan Miles. His third novel, Anatomy of a Miracle, hits stores (and Amazon) on the 18th. The book tells the story of Cameron Harris, a paraplegic veteran living in Mississippi who, one day, inexplicably stands up—and then steps into the celebrity spotlight as people from all over begin to debate his miraculous recovery. I haven’t read the book yet, but I loved Miles’s previous novels—and his writing for F&S, of course—and while I know you can’t judge a book by its cover, you can trust me this time: We’re all in for a hell of a story.…

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For the assignment that resulted in this issue’s cover and the images for “Hills to Die On” (p. 46), photographer Andrew Hetherington got to experience his first elk hunt. CK: What was the toughest part of the trip? AH: It was certainly physically challenging covering the terrain with all of my gear and taking photos as we went along. This region is called the Durfee Hills for a reason — there was plenty of elevation. CK: How were the wildgame suppers at camp? AH: Very good. We had moose sausages one night and ate elk loin only hours after it had been killed another night. The preparation wasn’t fancy, but it was tasty. CK: What was the most satisfying part of the trip? AH: What struck me most was the respect the guys had for the…

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cheers & jeers

DESTINATION DUCK “Study Abroad” (Hunting, Nov. 2017) was great. After reading about Brantley’s weeklong duck shooting adventure, Argentina is now on my bucket list. Gunner, via fieldandstream.com A RIGHTEOUS RITUAL Thank you, Bill Heavey, for “The World’s Greatest Stag Party,” a wonderful article that shows what everyday hunting means to those of us in the bush. The buck pole is a great tradition. Devon Craig, Plainfield, Vt. I’ve been to Pat & Gary’s buck pole extravaganza in Indian River, Mich., and memories of all those good times flooded my mind as I read this story. It captures the wholesome camaraderie and friendly fun there, that’s for sure. Thank you, Bill Heavey, for sharing your experience with one of northern Michigan’s greatest traditions. Scott Bazzani, Southgate, Mich. GONE BUT NOT FORGOTTEN I really feel for the Higgins family (“The Vanishing”).…

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flash light

PHOTOGRAPHER: BRIAN GROSSENBACHER LOCATION: PATAGONIA, ARGENTINA Reid Bryant was scouting for red stag in the foothills of Argentina’s Rivadavia range with Alejandro Jones of Patagonia River Guides last April when a rare electrical storm broke out. It was still 15 to 20 miles off as photographer Brian Grossenbacher snapped this shot, stabilizing his camera on his knees and letting the lightning illuminate the scene. But five minutes later, the storm was on them, with the flash-to-bang of lightning and thunder coming instantaneously. On the exposed steppe, they crouched down in a shallow bowl amid the thorny brush for the next 45 minutes. “I didn’t want to look up,” says Bryant (left), “or a bolt would strike me in the face and I’d see it coming down out of the heavens. I’ve been…

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snow birds

I WAS ON MY WAY TO check one last piece of public ground for my evening hunt, when something out of place on the trail, covered with fresh snow, caught my eye: a set of turkey tracks. I hopped out of my truck for a closer look. They were small, but I hoped they belonged to a jake, rather than a hen. I grabbed my shotgun and set off to follow the footsteps like mountain lion hunters in the area had been doing a few months earlier after their quarry. It had been a grueling day in the snow and cold of the Black Hills, but this line of prints took the bite out of the air. I crept alongside the tracks, making some quiet yelps along the way. At any…