The Journal of the Texas Trophy Hunters

The Hunt Never Ends

ach year as the whitetail deer season comes to a close, I get this lump in the bottom of my throat and sick feeling in my gut. I love to see the season come, but it kills me to see it end. It’s not that I have to kill a whitetail, but just knowing that I can go hunt is what keeps me jumping out of bed in the morning. When I was a young man, we had whitetail season and that was about it. We did

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