After more than 50 years of hunting, I've become aware of all sorts of wildlife regulations, the majority of them sound, but some that are unreasonable and, in my opinion, unfair. I'm referring to laws that require the hunter to make a field evaluation measurement of the quarry, insuring that it exceeds the minimum requirements. Practically all of these measurements involve antlers or horns. I believe that asking a hunter to make a judgement call on an animal in the field is unjust. I have plenty of examples.

Spring turkey season here in northwest Wyoming is winding down, and I'm not a happy camper. I had high hopes of causing the demise of one of the gobblers that attacked me in my driveway last year. Evidently that will not happen.

The other day I walked out on the front porch to carry in some firewood, and heard a cow elk bark. I looked across the road and saw a small herd of about a dozen elk standing there in the sagebrush looking at me. They were no more than a hundred yards away from my house. As I watched them, I choked up. I don't know why. I see elk pretty much every day of the year along the highway in our valley. But the mystery here is the unexplainable fact that my brain switched from being in awe at their majesty to thinking about where I'd be applying for my cow elk tags this fall.

On more than one occasion, I've made a bad shot with my rifle, whether at the range or in the field. Obviously, inaccurate shots at the range are harmless, but a bad shot on the hunt could result in a missed, or worse, a crippled animal.

It was a foggy, dreary day in northern Canada, with no promise of the fog lifting soon. I was sitting with an old Indian guide, waiting for it to clear up, hoping to see a moose in the beaver marsh shrouded by the fog. I noted that it was sunny on the slopes above us where there was decent visibility. Where we sat, we couldn't see 10 yards below us because of the fog. I wondered if it might be wise to climb higher and hunt where we could see, but I trusted the guide's wisdom.

My last blog described an elk hunt with General Chuck Yeager where he gave me his rifle. In order to keep the blog from becoming too lengthy, I omitted a profound incident that deserves to be told.

I'm no stranger to elk hunts. I began hunting elk back in my 20's, and my interest and passion for hunting them grew to the point where they became my primary focus. I hunted elk everywhere I could, during blistering hot early fall days to bitterly cold subzero days. Because I was a full-time staff writer for Outdoor Life magazine, time was not an issue. I hunted nonstop, continually taking up the challenge in different states and different mountain ranges. I couldn't hunt elk enough.

There are still some hunters today who believe that does should never be targeted, no matter the circumstances. That attitude is centered on the notion that the more does, the more breeding animals, and therefore more bucks later on. That was the prevailing attitude when I was a teenager. It was considered a cardinal sin to shoot a doe. Biologists held town meetings to explain new wildlife management practices.

On November of 2009, a madman at Fort Hood opened fire on our troops, killing 13 and wounding 30. Patrick Zeigler was one of the most seriously wounded, shot four times, including one devastating bullet into his skull.

Many folks believe that elk hunting is the toughest of all hunts in North America, when considering the more common species. To be sure, mountain goat and sheep hunting can be grueling, but elk, in my opinion, get the gold medal for being most challenging, day in and day out.

A few years ago, while having dinner with famous bowhunter Chuck Adams, who is arguably the best known bowhunter alive today, we chatted about venison. We compared notes from the animals we'd taken on many continents. In this case, venison is defined as the flesh of a hooved wild animal, which would include all the African antelope, moose, caribou, deer, elk, etc. I asked Chuck what his all-time favorite venison is, and I was astounded when he said Sitka blacktail deer. Amazing, because that's my all-time favorite as well.

With deer season upon us in most of the country, lucky hunters will have fine venison meals forthcoming. How about our pet canines? They can share in the bounty too, and you don't have to feed them edible meat. Here's a nifty trick to not only get rid of the inedible scraps, but make your dogs happy little campers as well. It's healthy for them too, providing plenty of necessary fat and protein.

I'm sitting here outside in my man-cave, next to my wood pile, which is my favorite spot to hang out, weather allowing of course. Blogging isn't new to me. I quit writing them in 2006 while working for Outdoor Life Magazine, when my final blog caused a bit of a stir.