I just read through this whole thread and did not see the name of Finn Aagaard. That surprises me. Among those that share their experiences and research with us through writing, he, along with Bob Hagle and John Barsness, are the rifleman hunters I most respect. None of them repeat the same old thing they have read from others, they experiment, learn, and teach, and If I read something any of them wrote about rifles or hunting, I have confidence that it's tested and true.

But I want to tell the story of another man, one you probably don't know, and the greatest hunter I have had the pleasure of knowing and hunting with:
From 1985 to 1989, I was stationed at Homestead Air Force Base, south of Miami, FL. I spent 3 of those 4 years being a dummy and not taking advantage of the environment. In the final year I was hit with the epiphany that people travel from all over the world to fish the areas right out my back door! And I hit it hard for that final year and had a ball. Then, I got reassigned to Nellis AFB, NV, where I was lucky to spend the next 7 years. I had dreamed of western big game hunting since I was a little boy and made a vow not to miss out. I arrived in January 1990 and had soon booked a guided, fall Colorado deer and elk hunt for my father and me. We arrived at the outfitter's in Delores, CO and were introduced to our guides. The oldest of the bunch luckily took a liking to me and after our first day hunting together, said he'd like to stay paired up, if that was OK with me. His name was Bill Bullock. I noticed the other guides really treated him with respect but I had no idea how much it was deserved. Well, we were on public land and it was tough hunting. Two of our party of five hunters (another father and son from Alabama) killed elk on that trip. My dad and I both got mule deer, and that was my first big game animal. I was hooked.

Bill lived in Cottonwood, AZ with his wife Bev, and he told me if I ever drew any AZ tags around there he'd be happy to take me out and help. Well, two years later I got crazy lucky and drew a non-resident December AZ Coues Whitetail tag for the unit just south of Bill's place in Cottonwood. I called him up and he said to come on out and stay with him and Bev and he'd take me hunting! I arrived at Bill's modest A-Frame house in Cottonwood and when I walked in, my jaw just dropped. Every inch of wall, floor to ceiling was covered with mounts. Full body, shoulders, euro, everything. Bill had been a working man his whole life and must have spent every penny he could save on hunting and taxidermy. He started showing me around and telling the stories. Bill had started out rifle hunting. He had one rifle, a sporterized 1903-A3 Springfield with the original two-groove barrel, that he hunted with exclusively for his first few decades. With it, he had taken a grand slam of sheep, B&C elk, mule deer, whitetails, caribou, moose, and pronghorn, a huge Alaskan Brown Bear, and just about everything else. Then, he got into archery. He was one of the early pioneers of archery in Africa, and worked with a few PH's, in different African countries, to get bows legalized for taking game over there, then proceeded to do so himself, and how. He had all the major African soft-skinned game hanging on his walls, along with a Cape Buffalo - no small task with a bow!
In addition, Bill had some other pretty amazing archery "slams", if you will. In full body mounts all around his living room, were every species of North American canine, and every species of North American feline, all take with his bow. Over a dozen bull elk that had fallen to his bow, but only the "Booners" we up on the wall. Needless to say we had a great evening while this incredibly humble man shared the stories of these hunts with me. The next morning we drove a little ways in the dark, then hiked in about three miles, and at sunrise were on a ridge south of town looking down into some pretty thick canyons and the Verde River bellow. Bill showed me how to look and glass, and I found a few does, and shortly later, a nice buck! He sat up on the ridge while I put on a stalk, and pretty soon, I had my first Whitetail! Bill helped my bone, quarter. and pack that buck out, and Bev was kind enough to let me use her kitchen to get it ready for the drive back to Las Vegas. When we stopped for a sandwich while packing out that buck, I had noticed Bill's hands a little shaky. I didn't bug him about it but was saddened to here that he passed away from Parkinson's (I think it was) just a couple years later.
It was an honor and a privilege to be lucky enough to know and hunt with Bill Bullock, The Greatest Hunter I have ever known.
Cheers,
Rex