By Boat or Bike, Walking or Mule, the only thing that matters is Hunting.... when that first crisp day of fall comes, and you have ice forming on the water buckets and with that comes the smell of the changing season as it wells up inside! and you know! it's just 'bout time to pack everything up and head for the hills, to sit motionless against that tall pine, to become one with the country, to watch that far ridge........... So grab you a cup of coffee and scroll thru the Trophy Room.