Last Play
by
Philip Samson

A few years ago, while guiding on the province’s south coast, we were having one of the worst weeks I have ever punched. Weather-wise, moose-wise... nothing was going right. From Monday to Thursday we had drawn a total blank, so our skipper decided to move us out to the overnight camp.

The hunter, Jim, the other guide, Pleman, and I gathered our stuff together for the short plane ride, and while circling the pond we spotted a nice bull and two cows in a small point of woods. Things were looking up.

Pleman and Jim had a few drinks that night and both were a bit past tipsy when we turned in. The spike camp we were staying in was only eight feet wide by 10 feet long, with two tiny bunks, a small stove at one end and a door in the other. They had the bunks while I slept - or tried to sleep - on the floor.

Pleman snored loud enough to make the door handle rattle, and with Jim pounding on the wall trying to disturb Pleman, I didn’t get much rest. Add to that the fact that we had eaten beans twice the previous day and you can imagine that it was not much of an atmosphere for inducing sleep, although Pleman seemed to do alright...

Favourite flies
by
Rob Solo

The secret to being a truly effective salmon angler is having the ability to show the fish something different when the going gets tough. Salmon, having been in the river for weeks, or more, have been fished for hard and, especially if they have been previously nipped by an angler’s hook, become proportionately harder to take as the days go by.

Even under optimal fishing conditions, sometimes one has to show the salmon a particular colour scheme, dressed in a different manner, to achieve a take. Being able to do so may mean all the difference between a fishless day and a banner one. Those anglers, like me, with many seasons of plying the waters, will agree with this statement.

The hook also has a bearing on the overall look of the finished fly. That is why on some rivers, many wet flies are tied on standard, up-eyed salmon hooks, and on others are dressed on down- eyed streamer hooks. The hook style I have developed, and which is used in the following flies, has advantages for not only the fly tier, but the angler, too...

The best of times
by
Phil O'Neil

Ice fishing holds special memories for me as I have spent many days with good friends and family standing over holes cut in the ice in hope of catching that elusive fat mud trout. Compared to my other outdoor activities such as bird hunting and rabbit hunting, ice fishing is a far more sedentary pursuit and offers an opportunity for,,, shall we say, some laid-back fun.

Now, there are many ways to go ice fishing, of course, and although those can range from walking to a pond, snowmobiling, snowshoeing or just hanging out on the pond by your cabin, they all have the same goal in mind - catching trout of one species or another.

In Newfoundland and Labrador, the most sought after species is the brook trout, or “mud,” as many of us refer to it. I’m not entirely sure if that is an official term or even where where it came from, but if you Google it you will find the name is used in many places around the world. Regardless of whether it is an accurate species name or not, that was what my father called them when I was a young lad and that is what I still call them today...

Challenging adventure in 'The Big Land'
by
Leon Normore

Like most great trips, this one began as a pipedream in the deep recesses of my mind. It wasn't an impossible undertaking, mind you, but it was monumental and it was all thanks to my great friend, Mark Simms. Mark is your typical adventure seeker; game for whatever life throws at him, so when I mentioned that I would like to get in on a Labrador caribou hunt, I figured he would plan something big.

Little did I know that when Mark moved to Happy Valley-Goose Bay five years ago, he found himself living across the street from Hans Lindner, an ex-German airforceman whose love for the great outdoors caused him to put down roots in “The Big Land.” Hans has been catering/guiding to a few friends from Germany, providing the quintessential winter Labrador experience for the last decade. Mark muscled in on this a couple years ago and when he found out I was interested, he squeezed me in, too...

Some things never change
by
Jeff Hutchings

While opening up my gun cabinet in October to choose a shotgun for opening day of the rabbit hunt, I picked up my crack- barrel, single-shot .410; a prized little gun with a ton of history.

Looking it over, I noticed the dents, scrapes and scratches that had come with years of use and enjoyment. As I cracked it open to look out the barrel, I couldn't help but let my mind wander back 25 years to where it all started for me, and I couldn't help but think about how much some things had changed, while others never will.

My .410 had gotten plenty of small game action long before I got my hands on it so many years ago. It had actually belonged to my brother who used it as I did; to shoot rabbits and grouse in the woods around Brown’s Arm, the little place in central Newfoundland where we grew up.

The hunting was very simple, but the enjoyment was much the same as it is today.

Saturday mornings in the fall found me hauling on a pair of the classic black and red rubber boots, a Western-Star or Abitibi Price ball cap and an old “woods” jacket. Strapped to my back would be a $6 green canvas grub bag that probably came from the miscellaneous rack at the Dalfen's Department Store...

A helping hand
by
Derek Brace

Much of the enjoyment I get from a day in the woods comes from sharing it with someone else. There have been quite a number of days when I headed off on my own, when a buddy or family member wasn't available, but there is an element of joy missing, even if the hunt is a success.

For safety reasons, it is always inadvisable to venture out by yourself, but when it comes to moose hunting, the stalking and eventual taking of big game can probably be carried out just as effectively by your lonesome; more successfully if your buddy tends to gab too much or hasn't showered in a couple of days. But when the animal is down and the immensity of the task ahead becomes apparent, it is then we appreciate that extra set of hands.

On my first moose hunt I remember a certain level of anxiety as I considered what would happen if I was to shoot an animal. I had been along on a couple of previous hunts and even had my hands into the paunching of a buddy's moose a couple of years earlier, but on this day, it was just Dad and I, and he knew even less than my limited knowledge of field dressing big game...