The first mention of the .454 Casull cartridge in print happened back in 1959. But, it was nearly 25 years later, 1983 to be exact, I learned about and got to shoot the round created by collaborative efforts of Jack Fulmer, Duane Marsh and gunsmith Dick Casull. As a wildlife biologist working in North Texas I was visiting with A. C. Gilbert and Mike Morris about handgun hunting. Mike, a dear friend, was the game warden working the area west of Fort Worth. A.C. helped landowne

“Know what time it is?” asked Luke Clayton. I reached for my cell phone to see. Before I could do so said he, “It’s hog killing time!” Then added, “It’s cooling down nicely at night. We can hang the meat overnight, then cut it up when get back from the morning’s hunt.” Luke continued, “I’ve got some ground pork from about a 40-pound shoat I shot a couple of days ago in the smoker. Using wild plum wood, to give it a bit of smoked flavor. Will take it out of the smoker in about

“I’m in!” “But I have not yet told you all the great things about hunting Coues deer on the El Durangueno Ranch in Durango, Mexico!” I responded to my friend Terry Anderson’s statement. “If you think it’s a good hunt, that’s all I need to know. We’ve known each other for quite a few years and we’ve never hunted together. It’s time we do so! Plus, I really want to hunt Coues whitetails. The El Durangueno from what you told m being at the southern edge of the Coues deer range i

I grew up watching western movies. The statement “My heroes have always been cowboys!” has long run true with me. I was enthralled with the “six-shooters” packed by my early silver- screen western heroes. They created within me a desire to learn about handguns and hunt with them. About that same time, I started reading stories by Al Georg who built his own single- shot handguns and Hal Swiggett who hunted with revolvers and single-shots. Growing up, while in grade and middle

“Larry, truly glad you could make it. I kept telling Jesse and Bequette you’d be here if they didn’t put you back into the hospital.” Said Dusty Vickrey, manager of the Choctaw Hunting Lodge as he greeted me at the lodge’s back door. “Been a busy hunt thus far, even though we’re only a day into it. Several bucks have been taken as well as two bull elk.” I nodded. “Of course Bequette has not yet taken a buck. Think he was hoping and waiting for you to get here before he pulled

“Are you really going to try to rattle a buck across the Red River from Oklahoma into Texas?” Asked Dusty Vickrey, manager of Oklahoma’s Choctaw Hunting Lodge as we were discussing the hunt I was headed to after leaving on of my favorite places on Earth. “Yes Sir, I am going to do my best to do just that!” I replied. That statement set the stage for what followed. I was fortunate to spend time in northern Texas as a wildlife biologist and hunting in south- central Oklahoma a

The morning hunt had been great fun! David Cotton, William Nixon and I had been out for the past couple of hours trying to rattle up bucks. And we had been successful. It was as if the really nice 8-point had read and followed the script just as I had written it. The 3-year old came within feet of David sitting against a tree. Love it when a plan comes together! I debated going back to the deer woods, or, spending some time shooting paper and steel, making certain my .454 Cas

Sitting by a crackling campfire, in the inky darkness, savoring a steaming cup of cowboy coffee, I cast an eye skyward. Above the black, star-studded sky showed nary a hint of the coming Opening Morning of the 2025 Texas general whitetail deer hunting season. “The Hunter’s Moon” only a couple of days from being full, shone brightly just above the western horizon. I had trailed that moon around world numerous times in search of adventure. “The Hunter’s Moon” brought back memor

Out of the darkness approached a man wearing clothes befitting a vaquero, a mere ranch hand; tattered shirt and jeans, tall boots and spurs, well-worn leather gloves, topped with a sweat and blood-stained western felt “properly screwed on”. His swagger bespoke authority. “Your fire is warm and inviting. But you look down at the mouth. If you continue with this negative attitude you just as well spend the rest of your hunt sitting here and staring at the dying embers!” The int

“Debes tener la confianza de que te llevaras un ciervo!” Spoke Cuernos as we poked our campfire’s mesquite coals sending skyward prayers in the form of glowing embers. “Si no crees que te levaras un ciervo, tabien puedes quedarte sentada en la fogata!” “OK Cuernos, you know my Spanish is more than a bit rusty, and I doubt seriously our friends here from downtown Atlanta speak much more Spanish than tacos, enchiladas, and maybe guacamole.Too, they may think of you simply being

Tall bluestem hid the buck’s running body.  But it did not hide his rack.  It seemed to float just above the wall of grass.  A mere glimpse was all I needed to know not only was it a buck but one with extremely long browtines.  His “dogcathers” had to be at least eight-inches long, if not longer.  They were so tall, they nearly reached the top his long profiled back points.  Brow tines of that length are rare no matter where one hunts white-tailed deer.  And, I had hunted Ame

“A case for short barrels? Hmmm! Are you asking about a cartridge to be used in shorter barrels, or, are you talking about guns with shorter barrels?” Before I could follow up, the questioner started laughing. “Had not really thought about it that way, but now that you, I’d really like to know about both.” I was at the Choctaw Hunting Lodge in southeastern Oklahoma helping host a DSC Oklahoma Chapter gathering. I had just finished talking about hunting rifles and rounds and a

Maine had beckoned. I had yielded. The North Woods and black bear have long been a personal professed “weakness” of mine. Both had lured,...

It was the first week of October, our Texas Archery and Managed Land Deer Permit deer hunting seasons had been open several days. I...

After spending a week on the FTW Ranch with Taurus’ Bret Vorhees a few years ago I could not wait to procure my own Taurus’ Raging Hunter...

I remember the first time I saw a moose, actually, the shoulder mount of a bull moose. It hung in a building which belonged to the Massey...

“I’m going to have to replace the red dot sights on my .454 Casull and .44 Mag Raging Hunters with my older Simmons or T/C long-eye...

Velvet encased antlers accentuated the buck’s massive beams and tines. Even so, I knew at first glance he was a buck I planned to pursue....

I was near the coast of Alaska at the beginning of the Peninsula, on the big water side south of Lake Iliamna. The hunt for Alaskan brown...

“They’re treed! Let’s go, let’s go, lets go!” Urged my dad taking off at a fast trot. I did my best to follow. My six-year old legs were...