Illinois' ranking among the country's worst states on the issue of child support collection is getting a little better thanks to its new hit-em-where-it-hurts policy of denying hunting and fishing licenses to people who are behind on their child support.
     According to this Chicago Tribune story, since the program went into effect six months ago, the state has collected almost $130,000 from 90 parents who owed child support, but were denied licenses until they started to pay up. Interestingly, 88 parents decided to give up on their licenses rather than pay. And soberingly (you can never have too many adverbs), custodial parents in Illinois, who are mostly women, are still owed a grand total of $3.2 billion with a "b" in back child support.
     The story also cited some successes in other states that have implemented the policy. One Maine hunter, for example, reportedly paid $30,000 in back child support to hunt moose.
     The Illinois article was built around a mother of two teenage boys, whose father hadn't paid child support since 2005. But when he went to apply for his hunting license last year, he was denied. The father finally got the license by starting a payment plan, and the family used the money to enlarge their too-small kitchen. Sounds like another success story. Can you think of a down side to such state programs? -K.H.

     We've seen blog reader Laura Benjamin from Colorado Springs, Colo. with some nice animals in recent months. In July, we had a photo of her with her first elk, and in November another photo with her first muley.

     Well, Laura just further updated the blog scrapbook by sending two more photos from her January 2008 elk hunt near Craig, Colo., during which she was the only woman among five guys. The first picture she describes as an, "elk herd posing against the horizon just as the icy fog started to burn off."

     The second photo is the second elk Laura has gotten, which she took with her .308 at about 175 yards.

    Laura's been updating her own blog about the hunt, (Days One and Two are up, day Three is yet to be posted). Here's a bit from her description of Day two. Congratulations, Laura, it sounds (and looks) like you had a great time! - K.H.

     So there's Dave and I slogging up the hill making enough snowshoe noise to wake the dead. I'm chatting away, "Isn't this beautiful up here? Look at how the moon is shining through the mist. Do ya think we'll see some elk soon? Are we there yet?"
     All of a sudden, he grabs my arm. (An important non-verbal signal that usually means, "Please stop talking" or perhaps, "Please shut up.")
     "Shhh, there's elk," he whispers. "There's elk! Right - over - there!"
     Since he's taller than me, he sees them first. Being shorter, I can only see the sagebrush tops, so I grab my field glasses and quickly scan the horizon.
     "What elk? I can't see 'em!" I shout.
     Now he's tapping me on my arm. The more he taps, the more my hands jiggle and the more the horizon jumps up and down, up and down. I whisper back between gritted teeth, "Quit tapping my arm! I
can't see a thing!"
     [and a few minutes later ...]

     Off came our snow shoes and we dropped to our knees, slowly creeping from one sagebrush to another. With every move, I came precariously close to breaking through the crust covered snow and falling flat on my face. To avoid an accident, I balanced  that rifle carefully across my arms and waddled forward, ever closer to the still grazing animals.
     "I can't believe they haven't heard us," I whispered.
     "We're upwind. They can't see you and it's hard to hear through the fog, so they'll probably smell you first."
     Fortunately, I didn't have time to over-think that last comment 'cause just then, their ears, eyes, or noses must have kicked in. Heads perked up and legs started moving. For such big animals, they sure can hop-to when they want to. A few careful shots and there was meat for the freezer. One tag filled and one left to go!

Field & Stream deputy editor (and regular book-reviewer) David E. Petzal just sent me his verdict on the new paperback version of Her Best Shot: Women and Guns in America by Laura Browder. The book explores gun culture in general, not just hunting, and I've found it a useful read (I wouldn't be surprised if a few of us have seen it, actually), and I was really interested in Mr. Petzal's take (plus, I just love reading anything Dave writes). -K.H.

     If you read Laura Browder's book, you will learn that: For a very long time, a great many American women have been very good with guns, and American men have not been particularly happy about it. This mixture of shooting and sociology is interesting almost in spite of itself. Ms. Browder is an academic (a professor of English at Virginia Commonwealth University), and writes like one. On the other hand, because she is an academic, she has really done her research, and the material here is unusual, interesting, and thought-provoking.
     Her Best Shot is a sociological study of women in American history whose lives have been intertwined with guns for good or bad. They begin with Deborah Sampson who cross-dressed and fought (not carried water; fought) in the Revolution, Annie Oakley, Calamity Jane, Ma Barker, Bonnie Parker, Patty Hearst, and the writer and militiawoman Carolyn Chute. Plus others, both famous and forgotten.
     Of these, Bonnie Parker may be the most interesting. She was something of a genius at self-promotion, and Clyde Barrow would have died as just another anonymous hood had he not met her. They worked tirelessly to promote themselves, but their greatest fame came when police found, developed, and published a series of "gun-toting moll" photos the couple had taken as a gag. And according to Bonnie's mother, her daughter loved babies, and often tried to borrow one for a day or two.
     Her Best Shot is filled with fascinating history that has largely been lost or ignored -- until now. It's $29.95, paperback, from uncpress.unc.edu . -D.E.P. 

     "The future of our sport." You hear that phrase associated with women hunters all the time. The burden of preserving that future is often placed on our shoulders by public speakers, organization leaders, and writers in national magazines and hometown papers alike. Most recently, I saw it in this Montgomery Advertiser article out of Alabama.
     And such a claim makes sense. As hunter recruitment numbers fall, public lands feel vulnerable, and certain game species appear threatened, it's only natural to look to the increase in the number of women hunters as a welcome piece of good news for America's hunting heritage. It's an exciting, lofty charge -- the kind of responsibility that maybe makes you want to wave a flag and break into song. But how much does it factor into your identity as a hunter?
     For me, it depends. If I have some down time at home or at work (don't tell), I do enjoy thinking about that legacy. As I've said in other posts, I get a real kick out of looking at photos and going through accounts of women hunters throughout the country's history -- especially around the turn of the 20th century when there were actually a fair number of females in the field. It really does feel like I'm doing my part to carry on a proud tradition, and it makes me feel all the more connected to the history of our sport in this country.
     When I'm actually in the field, on the other hand, an awareness of that tradition is nowhere near the front of my brain. Even with seemingly endless time under a tree for my mind to wander, my experience as a hunter isn't about the past or future of the sport, but it's about the moment in front of me. At exciting times, it's the animal in my scope, the deer on the ground, and the meat under my knife. At quieter times, it's about the wind, that crunch of leaves over my left shoulder, and as always, how many snacks are left in my bag. -K.H.

     "The majority of the Supreme Court appeared ready on Tuesday to embrace, for the first time in the country's history, an interpretation of the Second Amendment that protects the right to own a gun for personal use." 
     There's an attention getter. But it's far from the only interesting section of today's New York Times report on the case that is challenging the constitutionality of the District of Columbia's handgun ban.
    However, in an attempt to break my Times addiction, I'm instead linking to this Washington Post article on the current argument, along with some interesting dialogue excerpts also on the paper's site.
     The historic nature of the discussion (the last major Supreme Court ruling on the subject was handed down in 1939) seemed to be front and center in numerous comments from justices and lawyers alike, who sparred on the intentions of the Constitution's framers.
     Just as a refresher, the Second Amendment states (all together now), A well regulated Militia, being necessary to the security of a free State, the right of the people to keep and bear Arms, shall not be infringed.
     Walter E. Dellinger III, who argued for the District of Columbia, reportedly said, "The amendment's first clause confirms that the right is militia-related."
     Chief Justice John G. Roberts Jr. had a different take, reportedly asking, "If it is limited to state militias, why would they say, 'the right of the people?'"
     Given all the opposing views, there seemed to be at least some agreement on that point that, even in the event that the right of the individual gun owner was recognized, some manner of limitation would still be called for.
     How closely are you following the case (at the extreme end of the spectrum, a 23-year-old Lancaster man arrived at the Supreme Court Sunday night and camped out on the sidewalk to be first in line to hear yesterday's arguments)? And even if you don't happen to be a Constitutional scholar (again, I'm playing Devil's advocate, here), what do you have to say about the Founding Fathers' intentions? -K.H

     What do you think of this incident in which a central Pennsylvania high schooler was given detention for refusing to conceal a t-shirt showing a gun and an anti-terrorist message?
     According to reports such as this Fox News story, a 14-year-old named Donald Miller III, who attends Penn Manor High School in Millersville, Pa., wore a shirt depicting a gun and the text: "Special Issue - Resident - Lifetime License - United States Terrorist Hunting Permit - Permit No. 91101 Gun Owner - No Bag Limit" to school in December. When school officials told him to turn the shirt inside out, he refused, and was given two days detention.
     Miller's parents filed a federal freedom of speech lawsuit against the district, but the school stood by its decision. A federal judge will review the case on March 31.
     Now, I admit, I would not want to be a school administrator in this post-Columbine era, when there's so much pressure to spot problem behaviors and act preemptively to avoid future tragedies. But where do you draw the line between preemptive actions and infringements on freedom of speech?
     This isn't the first time a kid has worn a t-shirt featuring a firearm to school leading to disciplinary actions and news headlines, and it certainly won't be the last. So what do you think of this incident in particular. Would you think twice before sending a kid to school in this shirt? Or - for the teachers and students on the blog - would this shirt stand out as being potentially controversial at your school, or is it a shirt, just like any other deserving no special consideration? Schools have policies against mini skirts and tank tops (I'm playing Devil's advocate, here), so is it within the rights of a school district to discourage this kind of t-shirt as well? -K.H.

     I'm sure a number of us have hunted with our fair share of colorful guides. I've mentioned a few of my personal favorites in the course of other posts - one in New Mexico who liked to blast Queen's greatest hits from his truck stereo when picking up a downed deer; one in Wyoming who believed CWD was an anti-hunting government conspiracy. But for the most part, in the area of outdoor skills most of my guides - men and women, young and old - have been just great, and I have no real complaints.
     Except for one. To protect her identity, I won't mention the state she's from or the game we hunted and will henceforth refer to her simply as, "the guide."
     To be fair, I'll first say that the guide meant very well. It was her first time guiding, and she tried very hard to do right by my hunting partner and me, who'd been invited on the hunt. She was good-natured, easy to get along with, and full of great stories, like one involving an ancestral orphan who was brought to the country generations earlier by a pioneering group of Spanish monks.
     She didn't do anything too outrageously terrible, but in the area of, well, guiding, she left a bit to be desired. Trouble struck on the second day of the hunt when we set out in the truck before dawn. We planned to ride about 20 minutes to a particular area, then walk to a spot and set up. We left in plenty of time to be in position by first light, but didn't quite make it. We got lost. Granted, without even a dirt road to follow, it's hard to know which particular tree or embankment to turn at in the dark. But as the sun came up, we were still finding ourselves in unfamiliar fields, turning down wrong tree lines, backtracking to a familiar spot, making turns, second-guessing turns, and trying the whole thing over again. It was hard to be mad because she was obviously mortified by the situation and apologized with nearly every breath -- this was clearly hurting her more than us. In the end, we finally made it, and enjoyed a few hours of calling and wildlife watching.
     The next day some uncertainty seemed to creep into her approach. We'd abandoned a spot earlier that morning and set out for another, but she couldn't decide where to go. She considered one spot, then another, and finally deferred to my hunting partner and me, asking where we thought would be best.
     Instead of being frustrating (OK, I'm not that pure of heart, it was a little frustrating), the whole thing turned into a kind of learning experience. I'd been known to follow previous guides around with an air of blind faith, trusting they knew exactly where to go and when to get there. But without that firm hand of leadership, I was forced to think for myself. As this particular hunt progressed, instead of blindly accepting a suggested spot, I surveyed each new area we approached and decided for myself where best to set up.
     Personal triumph came the last day, when a type-of-game-which-shall-remain-nameless wandered into exactly the area I'd eyed up as the perfect location. Unfortunately the guide had my hunting partner and me set up about forty yards too far away with a tree in between, but hey, at least I knew my good call had been confirmed, and my spot-picking abilities were getting better.
     I lost touch with the guide, but I'd like to think she's continued guiding and is much better these days. Likely the whole thing was a learning experience for her too. -K.H. 

     I have a shy streak. Always have. When I was small, I was that tentative kid usually hiding behind her dad's legs; years later I was the quiet one kind of hanging back on the playground. Don't get me wrong, I was never a crowd-shunning antisocial who fled in terror from all human contact -- I was just never the most outgoing kid in the class. Of course, as an adult, I've largely outgrown my younger shy and quiet tendencies, but to a certain extent some personality traits are just part of your core fiber, no matter how much you "grow up."
     I credit certain confidence-boosting activities and achievements with urging me out of my shell, and learning to shoot and beginning my life as a hunter definitely rank high among them. It's nearly impossible to feel shy or insecure when you're holding your own at a rifle range (the first time I so much as shot a bullseye at 25 yards with a .22, I thought I was ready to rule the free world), or skinning a buck you took at 245 yards. Self sufficiency like that has the potential to build even the most fragile of egos into the strongest of characters. I've seen it in myself, and I've seen it as I watch various novice outdoorsmen progress through their series of first guns, first hunts, and first kills.
     I'd imagine we have at least a few instructors on the blog (and I KNOW we have more than a few proud parents!), and I'm wondering what those of us with regular exposure to "hunters-in-training" think about the power of the sport to boost confidence and build character. Admittedly it's a pretty biased question granted I just shared my strong belief in the phenomenon, but I'm curious to hear your experiences with it. We certainly have more to thank hunting for than the meat on the table. -K.H.

Considering that a number of us have turkeys on the brain right about now, I figured we'd all get a kick out of this photo. My boyfriend Dan passed this house while driving north from New York City along the Hudson River last month. It's a fairly well developed area, but this little posse didn't seem to mind! -K.H.

     I guess it's no secret to our blog that I read The New York Times every day. Well, the other morning I was happy to see a great lead story on their home page: "Competing on Calls That Aren't Just Elk to Elk."  Okay, so the title's a bit awkward, but it was nice to see such front and center coverage of the Rocky Mountain Elk Foundation World Elk Calling Championship in Reno, Nev.
     The article talked about three finalists in the PeeWee Division of the contest, who are also members of their Reno elementary school's Elk Club. It's an after-school group started by a science teacher who wanted to connect learning to call with environmental education. I'm sure a lot of youngsters, hunters or not, wouldn't mind blowing off some after-school steam by making noise with funny tubes.
    I'm also sure that a number of them could put my calling skills to shame. I haven't exactly been the fastest learner when it comes to that subject.
     I started off with some helpful observations, though. I remember when I began to suspect on my first duck hunt, that part of calling is knowing when to cork it. I was sharing three adjacent blinds with 9 guys, and the minute an approaching spec appeared in the sky, every one of them started blowing with a vengeance, assaulting the poor bird with this wall of sound that undoubtedly warned it all was not well. Good to know.
    I later tried a goose call for the first time on a hunt with some Amish friends in central Pennsylvania. They're the humblest, thriftiest, most non-materialistic people I know - but I swear between the two of them, they'd ordered every call Cabela's ever displayed in its catalog. The just love, LOVE to hunt and weren't shy about outfitting themselves with the best equipment they could find.
     Anyway, one of them offered to teach me how to call my first time out with them. I was afraid of emptying the entire northeast of its goose population but I figured, what the hell, I'd played trumpet and French horn through college - I could certainly handle a piece of plastic.
     Well, it was just embarrassing. After a few failed attempts with one call, they offered me another, suggesting it might be easier. No can do - that call just would not be tamed. If I did end up getting a decent sound, I couldn't figure out how to bend the tone. And apparently just blowing harder is not the answer.      
     So I may not be a crack goose caller (yet), but how do the rest of us hold up? Turkeys, ducks, geese, elk - what are your calling triumphs and turmoils? And have you been out with any obnoxious callers, or for that matter, any child prodigies? -K.H.