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Predator Calling With A Pro
Recently, I was invited on a predator hunt with World Coyote Calling champion Al Morris. While I've taken the hair off my share of coyotes, most were targets of opportunity more than song dogs I specifically sought out. However, after spending a few days with Al, I came away with a whole new outlook and a desire to become a dedicated predator caller. Over lunch one day, I interviewed Al, and here are some of the tips, tactics and secrets I came away with.What are your favorite calibers? I love a .223 because of its affordability, but that's changed over the last year.

Wolf Hunt Fuels Hate
When Robert Millage pulled the trigger on a female wolf in Idaho last fall, he made history by becoming the first of 146 Idaho hunters to tag a wolf since they were removed from the endangered species list last spring. Millage also made plenty of enemies. Within hours of reporting his kill to Idaho Game & Fish, the fifth-generation Idaho resident was the subject of harassing, hate-filled phone calls, e-mails and posts on various Internet forums.  Millage, however, is taking it all in stride.

Calling All Coyotes
During the early evening Gary Roberson, Mike Jordan and I sneaked into the junction of three senderos. Jordan and I each sat looking down one of the roads in hopes that a coyote would cross one of them to circle downwind of the call. Roberson sat at the edge of a patch of prickly pear, watching the lane that led straight downwind. The evening temperature had cooled down into the 70s, and the Texas birds sang and fluttered about.

10/10 Bushytails
Sure, you can find at least a few squirrels randomly in a hardwood forest, but the fact is your most exciting hunting action will probably occur where squirrel concentrations are highest. Simply, where you find their preferred foods, you'll find the biggest numbers of squirrels.In the northern states, acorns are the most sought-after mast, and those from the various white oak species are generally favored over red or black oak acorns.

Lucky Shot
One of my favorite movies is A Christmas Story, which is based on a novel written by Jean Shepherd. For about the past 30 years I have not let a single December go by without watching it several times. I absolutely love that movie for a number of reasons but mainly because it does such a wonderful job of depicting how innocent life was when I was growing up in rural America.

Extend Your Season
The crow is actually a coyote with feathers. The two don't look the same, but they have a lot in common. Both are wary, shy and incredibly intelligent. Most important of all, both are survivors. The fellow who wrote that only rats, cockroaches, scorpions and coyotes would survive a nuclear holocaust obviously knew nothing about the crow.There are dozens of different species of crows throughout the world, but the one we are aiming at here is the American version, which goes by the scientific name of Corvus brachyrhynchos.

The Marksman's Game
It was pleasant lying prone in the warmth of a morning sun while I eyed the goings-on across the valley. A prairie dog was down on all fours eating grass while another stood watch as I got an up-close view through the rifle's 24X glass. Neither gave any indication that they were aware of my presence on the low knoll nearly a quarter-mile away.

Point-Blank 'Chucks
I dared not swat the mosquito that busily buzzed my right ear. Just a stone's throw away, a woodchuck was stuffing itself on succulent green soybean leaves. My rifle had been shouldered for what seemed like an eternity, and the hot sun of a mid-June morning pounded the back of my neck. Meanwhile, I mustered all the patience I could and waited for the opportunity I was sure would come.The 'chuck finally did what all feeding groundhogs do: It stood up to scan the area for danger.

Varmint Vacation
A few years ago, I packed up my worldly belongings, said goodbye to family and friends and left the land of my birth, the lush foothills of South Carolina. My destination--somewhere in the Rocky Mountain West. I wasn't sure of the exact location at the time of my departure, but eventually settled in New Mexico. There were two underlying reasons for my exodus: a dream and a passion. The dream was to go alone in the black timber and take a record-class bull elk. The passion was varmint hunting.

Bless the Beagle
Whenever I think of rabbits, I think of Realph. He was a little tricolor beagle named after my great-grandfather--a lean, rugged, son of Norway who came to central Wisconsin in the 1880s and homesteaded 160 hardscrabble acres. Great-Grandpa made something out of nothing from that chunk of unforgiving real estate. Realph the beagle could do the same with a bunny track.My cousin Scott held title to Realph and kept him fed, but no one owned him except the cottontails living on the ground once owned by his namesake.

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