by Angela Keer | Aug 12, 2013
I have an unparalleled view from my captain’s chair high up on the quail buggy, but I am captivated by the long skeins of Spanish moss draping from a century-old live oak. The combination of a delicate, flowering plant and strapping tree is profound, and when a...
by Angela Keer | Aug 12, 2013
Pull out a sack full of ham and cheese sandwiches during a fishing trip on a boat and everyone wants one. Pull out a bunch of bananas on that same vessel and you’ll be lucky if you don’t get pitched overboard.
by Angela Keer | Aug 12, 2013
When I was a kid, it was easy to learn to hunt and fish. I had a constant supply of adult mentors who showed young kids like me the ropes, rarely bothered by the mistakes we made as we tagged along. Once we learned our lessons, we had a tremendous amount of freedom to...
by Angela Keer | Feb 17, 2013
My heart skipped a beat when my wife told me she loved Albert. He was a young, muscular, good-looking tricolor setter of North Carolina quail stock, part of the field-dog rotation at The Webb Farm. Bill Webb owned him, Wade Meacham trained him and Kenny Rabb hunted...
by Angela Keer | Nov 16, 2012
Quail Hunting is a treasured tradition in the Red Hills Somewhere between the morning mist rising from the lake at False Dawn and the skeins of Spanish moss drooping from the cypress trees is a space of air where the quail fly hard. When a covey erupts from the...
