I finally tagged a blackbuck at 72 yards on free-range land — and it was one wild ride to get there.

The Early Morning Stalk

Friday morning, John and I had a plan: it was his birthday, and we were going to glass for bucks from the hillside. We weren’t two minutes into our approach when we heard bucks fighting down in the draw — about 200 yards away. We closed the distance to 80 yards and I decided to take a shot.

The light wasn’t ideal. We thought the shot was just a shade too low, catching him right under the belly instead of where I wanted. I’ve been practicing out to 111 yards, so 80 isn’t normally a problem. But sometimes brighter conditions make all the difference when you’re reading the sight pin. We regrouped and kept moving, but the opportunity slipped away.

Finding the Right Buck

We didn’t dwell on the miss. Instead, we kept glassing and found another blackbuck — this one a really solid animal. We set up and John took a shot first. When it didn’t connect, I nocked an arrow. This time, I was ready. The yardage was 72, the conditions were better, and I drew back smooth.

“Sometimes you get a second chance on the same hunt, and you have to make it count.”

The shot felt clean. I knew the moment it left the string that I’d done my part — good form, right aim, committed to the execution. The blackbuck dropped, and we wrapped our tag on a really nice animal.

Putting Meat on the Ground

This hunt proved something I believe in deeply: free-range exotic hunting on raw land rewards patience and hard work. You’re not sitting in a blind waiting for something to walk past. You’re actively hunting — glassing, stalking, reading wind, adjusting. And when your planning and practice come together, you get moments like this.

My axis and blackbuck pursuit from Episode 2 showed how unpredictable free-range hunts can be, and this finale proved that persistence pays off. Whether it’s stalking axis at Baker3 Ranch or chasing exotics on open land, the foundation is the same: know your bow, know your limits, and execute when the moment comes.

That’s the heart of American Country Outdoors — real hunts, real lessons, and meat in the freezer.

Episode 2 was pure chaos — roaring axis, fighting blackbucks, multiple animals, and the kind of fast-paced hunting that keeps you sharp.

Roaring Axis and Fighting Blackbucks

John was behind the camera because the night before I’d tagged a doe. We didn’t have much time to pursue it once the rut kicked in. We heard some serious roaring from what sounded like an axis buck, so we pivoted and headed that direction. By last light, we found two blackbucks fighting through a fence — wild to witness and tough to film with a handheld camera in low light.

The action started early the next morning. Lots of roaring already. Lots of water movement. The exotics were in full rut mode, and that meant opportunities — if we could stay flexible and aggressive.

Multiple Encounters

We spotted axis bucks roaring across the landscape, blackbucks in aggressive postures, and from one vantage point we could glass a whiteTail up on a hill. I even spotted a pig. Stalking free-range exotics means you’re never hunting just one animal. You’re hunting a landscape where multiple species are moving, vocalizing, and giving away their positions.

“There’s a lot of roaring already this morning, so we decided to come over here.”

This episode proved that free-range exotic hunting rewards aggression and adaptability. You can’t stick to a plan when the rut is on and animals are broadcasting their location every few minutes. You have to hunt what you hear and see right now.

If you’re curious how this style compares to blind hunting, check out my land setup video or my successful blackbuck hunt at 72 yards where all this scouting came together. Free-range hunting builds a different skill set — and Episode 2 showed exactly why I love it.

American Country Outdoors documents the real learning curve of exotic hunting, and these moments are where the education happens.

John and I pulled up to Baker 3 Ranch and I knew this hunt was different from anything I’d done before. His church runs an annual hunt there, and it’s not about putting heads on walls—it’s about depth, challenge, and real bowhunting.

My first year was 2023. John brought me into it, and the second I got there, I understood why he talks about this place with so much respect. The ranch sits in rocky country, the animals are wild axis and blackbuck, and the hunt itself is a multi-day commitment with real challenge built into every stalk.

Scouting and Setting Up

Episode one was about getting oriented and laying the groundwork for the hunts to come. John and I spent the first day hiking the washes, placing Moultrie trail cameras at water holes and key spots, and looking for signs—rubs, tracks, water holes where axis come in to drink.

We heard axis roaring in the distance. That’s not a sound you hear from whitetail or elk. It’s unique, sharp, and wild. We moved toward the sound, trying to locate where the bucks were bedding. The terrain is all rock and creosote, so noise discipline matters. Every footfall on the rocks is a potential give-away.

We found a good water hole, set up a camera, and moved into some shade to gllass and listen. The afternoon wore on and we heard more roars. We knew the animals were in the area.

There’s just something special about this hunt that is way more in depth than killing a giant bull on a side of a mountain.

As light started getting thin, I spotted a buck across a clearing—about 100 yards away. I made my move, repositioned toward some better trees to close distance. But in moving to get a better position, I stood up and there he was—a good axis buck right across the water. I drew back and sent an arrow. Clean miss. That’s the hunt right there. Not the story I wanted to start with, but that’s what happens when you hunt wild animals with a bow.

What Baker 3 Really Is

This hunt isn’t about guaranteed success or trophy guarantees. It’s about being in rugged terrain, making long stalks on wary wild animals, and learning to hunt without a net. We’ve got more episodes coming. Animals will hit the ground. Decisions will be made. The hunt will unfold like it really does in the field, not like a highlight reel.

If you want to see what commitment to archery and wild country looks like, Episode 2 shows where this led. And if you’re hunting javelina in similar terrain, Texas hunts teach the same lessons about stalking and pressure.

I pulled a September Idaho elk tag this year, so I’m getting my feet wet in the elk world. At the Total Archery Challenge in San Antonio, I met some cool folks from Eagle Cap Outdoors and they showed me their new bugle tube—the Intimidator.

Why It Works

It’s slim, which matters more than people think. Most bugle tubes take up room in your pack, but this one fits clean. When you’re hiking backcountry chasing bugling bulls, every bit of space counts.

The 3-in-1 design does real work. You’ve got your glunking—the aggressive calls that bring a bull in closer. You’ve also got your raking function, so you can use the tube as a rake without setting it down and hunting for a stick. For a camera guy like me running the camera in one hand, this means I can hold the tube in the other and keep steady while I’m filming and calling simultaneously.

The tube doesn’t mess with optics much either, which is important if you’re glassing while you call. It does what it’s built for without complication.

Heading to Idaho

This is going to be part of my setup come September. Use code ACO15 for 15% off at Eagle Cap if you’re interested. Heading into the elk woods with solid gear like this gives you one less thing to worry about and one more advantage when it counts.

Follow along with my Idaho elk hunt and other bowhunting adventures on the channel.

I came to Rock N Roll Redneck Ranch the day before rifle season opened because Mark was kind enough to let me bow hunt first. What I got was a lesson in adaptation and honest hunting that I carry with me every season.

It was November 4th, 2022, and my buddy and I were heading out to rattle in some deer and maybe take a shot with the bow before the rifle opener. We were grateful just to be on good ground. We’d been worried about getting to hunt at all that year, and Mark gave us permission to be there. That was enough.

The Opener Doesn’t Cooperate

November 5th came in cold—37 degrees—and crisp. Opening day in Texas. We sat the blind expecting to see does, maybe a small buck. Nothing came. Not a single sighting all morning. We heard a couple distant gunshots, but nothing on the property. The hogs that were supposed to be everywhere? Nowhere to be found.

Here’s the thing about opening day: it’s not always what you dream about the night before. Sometimes it’s slow. Sometimes it’s cold and quiet and the animals are somewhere else, doing whatever they want while you’re sitting in a blind wondering if you made the right call.

I know you wanted to eat, I wanted to eat too—I sent one through the PMP house later baby.

We had two sits to work with and we needed meat for the freezer. Simple as that. So we made the call: we grabbed the AR-15 and started still-hunting the back side of Mark’s property. No dramatics, no trophy hunting. Just two bowhunters who became rifle hunters because the situation demanded it.

Walking the back, we heard gunshots—closer this time. Maybe Mark connected. Maybe John and his son got something. We headed back toward the blind to see what the morning had turned into. We didn’t know if there was meat on the ground or just more hunting ahead.

Real Hunts Teach Real Lessons

Mark was generous with his ground, and I was grateful. I’ve been hunting long enough to know that the hardest days often teach more than the easy ones. This was an honest hunt from start to finish. No gimmicks, no script. Just a November morning and two guys trying to put meat in the freezer before dark.

The rifle season opening taught me something important: hunting isn’t always about perfect conditions and trophy moments. Sometimes it’s about showing up, adapting when the plan changes, and doing what needs to be done. When your season opens slow like this, having the right attractants in your pack and the patience to work through tough mornings matter more than luck. Come back tomorrow. Keep grinding.

Eleven seconds. That’s all it takes to remind you why you hunt exotics.

An axis buck roaring—that deep, guttural call—is something you don’t forget. It’s aggression, dominance, territorial claim all wrapped up in one sound. When you’re that close and the camera catches it, you get to feel what I felt in the moment: the raw power of that animal and the privilege of being in the same space.

Axis deer have a completely different rut than whitetail. That roaring is their language during the rut—it’s how they establish dominance and challenge rivals. Getting footage of this close is rare. It means the stalk was good, the approach was silent, and the moment was there for the taking.

This is the hunting experience most folks don’t see. Not the trophy photo after the harvest, but the genuine encounter with an animal doing what animals do—living, competing, surviving. That’s what bowhunting exotics in Texas gives you.

Moments like this fuel the next hunt. Check out my other axis deer hunts and exotic hunting content.

Some of the best bowhunting happens when you abandon the blind and sit on the ground where the grass is tall and the bucks have no idea you’re there.

South Texas Ground Hunting

We rolled out to the lease in Dilley before sunrise, wind perfect for the back side of the property. The targets were clear: a 14-pointer and a couple of 12-pointers. We decided to skip the blind entirely and hunt from the ground.

The grass was thick enough that I could sit nearly invisible. All I needed was room to draw back and stand for the shot — and South Texas gave us that. Sometimes simple is better. No blind to bug-proof, no installation, just you and the natural cover.

Coffee and Patience

While we waited, I made cowboy coffee over the fire — Café du Monde chicory, strong the way I like it. There’s something about being out there before the world wakes up, fire crackling, waiting for deer to move. That’s hunting.

“The grass is pretty high, so we’ll be able to sit almost invisible and get drawn back and stand up and take a shot.”

This hunt represents the core of what I chase — no-nonsense bowhunting where the strategy is sound, the execution is clean, and the deadhead is what you take home. Ground hunting teaches respect for the animal and demands that your fundamentals are sharp. There’s nowhere to hide if your form is off.

If you’re interested in how different setups shape a hunt, check out my land setup for multi-species hunting or my axis bowhunt at Baker3. Each approach teaches something different, but the foundation is always the same: good wind, good shot, good outcome.

On American Country Outdoors, we keep it real — the wins and the lessons, all tied to the commitment it takes to hunt hard and hunt well.

There’s no moment that beats wrapping a tag and knowing you’re bringing meat home.

The Hunt

Blackbuck hunting on open land teaches you to be sharp — your bow needs to be dialed, your wind sense needs to be true, and your stalk needs to be perfect. These animals don’t forgive mistakes. But when everything clicks, when you draw back smooth and execute the shot, the payoff is real.

This hunt was exactly that: sound planning, good glassing, the right moment, and a clean shot. No overtime, no drama, just a blackbuck down and a tag wrapped.

Meat in the Freezer

That’s what hunting is ultimately about — putting food on the table, respecting the animal, and being efficient with the opportunity we’ve been given. A blackbuck’s lean, high-quality meat is exactly what fills the freezer on a successful hunt like this.

“Hunting for meat isn’t separate from hunting for the experience — it’s the foundation of why we do this.”

Whether it’s axis at Baker3, blackbuck on free-range land, or whitetail in South Texas, the principle is the same: we hunt hard, we execute clean, and we take responsibility for the animal from shot to table.

That’s the ethos of American Country Outdoors. No artificial separations between trophy hunting and subsistence — just real hunting, real meat, real appreciation.

Once you’ve made your shot, the hunt isn’t over—it’s shifted into a different gear. That’s what you see here: the recovery.

Tracking a whitetail after a good hit requires patience and attention. Every drop of blood, every disturbed leaf tells a story. You move slow, you listen, and you let the sign guide you. This is where bow hunting demands respect for the animal—you’re not sprinting through the woods looking for a quick find. You’re moving with purpose and care.

This 2018 buck was a reward for the hours spent in the stand, the early mornings, the wind checks, and the discipline to wait for the right moment. The recovery is the final part of that respect. It’s you honoring the work the animal made you do to earn him.

Meat on the table, a story to tell, and lessons learned about what it takes to be a bowhunter in Texas. That’s what these recoveries mean.

Check out my first archery kill and axis hunts for more on the pursuit.

Javelina aren’t like any other game animal. They’re tough, aggressive, and they’ll teach you about pressure if you hunt them with a bow.

Texas javelina hunting requires a different mindset than whitetail or exotic game. You’re not hunting for a wall hanger. You’re hunting because the animal is there, the challenge is real, and you want to test yourself against something that doesn’t care about your experience level or how much you’ve invested in your setup.

Reading Wind and Terrain

Javelina move in groups, and they’re alert. Wind matters absolutely. You can be good at stalking, but if the wind is wrong, it doesn’t matter. I scout the approach, figure out where the group is headed, and work to intercept them before they catch my scent.

The terrain in Texas javelina country is brush, cactus, and open spaces. There’s no sneaking through thick cover. You’re either spotted or you’re not. When you find a group, you have one move—maybe two if you’re lucky.

Why Javelina Matter

This hunt teaches precision and confidence under pressure. At 20 to 30 yards with a bow on a collared pig, your shot has to be clean. You can’t afford a bad hit. That pressure is good. It strips away the ego and makes you focus on execution.

Javelina hunting with a bow isn’t about trophies. It’s about testing yourself as a bowhunter.

The skills you build stalking javelina carry into every other hunt. Arizona offers similar terrain and similar challenges, and the precision you develop transfers to exotic game hunting too.