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This week on the show Tony Peterson and I break down our top six whitetail failures and the lessons that we and you can learn from them.

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On Friday, May 29, President Trump signed an Executive Order (EO) "Removing Unnecessary and Counterproductive Restrictions on Access to Federal Lands” that rescinds EOs 11644, signed by President Richard Nixon in 1972, and 11989, signed by President Jimmy Carter in 1977.

These two orders have allowed agency heads to manage how and where off-road vehicles can travel on public lands. According to the White House Press Release, “the subjective criteria were difficult for agencies to operationalize in practice because they were so vague.” The ramifications of this move are uncertain.

“Our concern isn't what this EO does today, it's what it sets in motion,” BHA’s Senior Policy & Government Relations Manager Jack Polentes told MeatEater. “The administration has rescinded the EOs that have guided off-road vehicle management on public lands for more than 50 years and directed federal agencies to revise or rescind the regulations and policies built upon them.”

The purpose of the ‘72 EO 11644 was straightforward: “to establish policies and provide for procedures that will ensure that the use of off-road vehicles on public lands will be controlled and directed so as to protect the resources of those lands, to promote the safety of all users of those lands, and to minimize conflicts among the various uses of those lands.” And EO 11989 simply amended sections within that original order for clarity.

Together, these two EOs laid out guidelines for agency heads to manage off-highway vehicle (OHV) traffic by determining where trails should be located based on areas that limit damage to water, soil, and vegetation and where they will have minimal impact on wildlife. It also takes into account the multi-use nature of public lands and seeks to minimize conflict between motorized and non-motorized recreational opportunities.

It also specifically states that trails cannot be located in Wilderness Areas or Primitive Areas. And it designates that trails located in areas like the National Park system or National Wildlife Refuge are allowed “only if the respective agency head determines that off-road vehicle use in such locations will not adversely affect their natural, aesthetic, or scenic values.”

The White House press release claims the rescission of these EOs protecting public land is done in the name of reining in government overreach. “Executive Orders 11644 and 11989 were issued roughly 50 years ago, before modern technologies could be paired with our comprehensive statutory land management framework,” the release states. “The latest mapping technologies, paired with today’s recissions, will allow for off-road vehicle use designations that provide more access, recreational opportunities, and greater benefits to the public.”

Sure, rescinding these two EOs could open up more access for off-road vehicle users on public lands, but it doesn’t provide any guidelines for management. And while digital mapping has come a long way, it isn’t going to show where runoff cuts down a hillside in the spring, how deer migrate in the fall, or the native plants that could be eviscerated by an off-road trail in that area in the summertime.

Additionally, the statement from the White House makes no secret that this move will not only increase recreational opportunities but will also aid in removing barriers to timber and energy production on federal lands.

So what are federal land management agencies supposed to do about off-road traffic on public lands now? According to the Trump Administration, “The Order directs relevant Federal agencies to rescind or revise the regulations that were adopted to implement the now-rescinded Executive Orders.”

The EO cites certain statutory authorities with the ability to establish federal land policy regarding OHVs. These include the National Historic Preservation Act (NHPA), the National Environmental Policy Act (NEPA), the Endangered Species Act (ESA), and the Federal Land Policy and Management Act (FLPMA). “I have determined that those statutory authorities, together with executive department and agency-specific land management authorities, provide the appropriate framework for managing off-road vehicle use on Federal lands,” the EO states.

However, in February ‘25, the Council on Environmental Quality rescinded NEPA regulations. Trump’s January ‘25 EO “Declaring a National Energy Emergency” directs federal agents to bypass section 106 in NHPA, allowing agencies to sidestep the requirement to consider and mitigate impacts on historic, cultural, and tribal sites for potential projects. The Trump administration has tried repeatedly to weaken ESA regulations. And the administration’s rollback of the Public Lands Rule demonstrates its limited interpretation of FLPMA, which has led to the prioritization of resource extraction and motorized recreation over conservation on BLM lands.

“At the same time, the Forest Service is considering rescinding the Roadless Rule and reviewing the Travel Management Rule,” Polentes added. “Hunters and anglers have seen what happens when there isn't a strong framework for managing OHV use on public lands: fragmented habitat, disrupted wildlife movement, and diminished backcountry hunting and fishing opportunities. Access without safeguards ultimately comes at the expense of the very resources and experiences that make public lands worth accessing in the first place."

While this EO will not immediately open all public lands for an off-road free-for-all, it relies on the work of statutory authorities actively being whittled away by this administration. So, is this the beginning of side-by-sides ripping up a mountainside during your favorite backcountry elk hunt? Maybe not directly, but this administration appears to be taking a “death by a thousand cuts” approach to public lands policy change.

I was nine years into my public land hunting career when I first dipped my toe in the target-buck pool. The North Carolina hitlister showed up on my trail cameras just before Halloween, with pre-rut in full swing, and a gnarly heat wave set to roll in a week later.

With nearly a decade of experience in my rearview mirror, I made one of the dumbest hunting mistakes of my life—I stayed home on November 7. The temps hit 80 degrees, and I convinced myself that the deer would sit tight until dark.

Guess who cruised by my stand camera mid-morning?

I know what you’re thinking. Duh, that’s peak rut. There’s no weather on Earth that justifies sitting it out, because bucks will move regardless. It’s a fair point, but that experience reframed my entire attitude towards hunting in unexpectedly warm weather all season long. It should do the same for you.

For most September whitetail openers, heat is inevitable. Deer are still munching on leafy greens in their summer coats, and a 10-degree increase from one day to the next isn’t likely to change their pattern much.

Flip a page or two on your calendar, and that 10-degree swing becomes something noticeable for deer that have put on a solid layer of fat and fluff. This is true over most of the whitetail’s range; even in the South, where it’s not uncommon for early-summer temperatures to reappear throughout the winter.

I stared for way too long at that daylight photo of the buck I named “Tank” when it dawned on me. He was panting his way to the creek below my stand. Even in late October, the temps forced that buck to search for water. Again, that probably sounds like a “duh” moment. In my defense, public land whitetail hunting is full of lessons that smack you in the head like a bucket of wet concrete and make you question your own intelligence.

I knew Tank spent most of his time on neighboring private land, where there was textbook bedding cover and no shortage of farm ponds to sip from. But a huge percentage of public land across the country consists of riparian corridors and floodplains—and that spot was no different. A low area along a body of water with a closed canopy and an open, breezy understory. All of which adds up to sweet relief for an overheated buck.

For years, I focused on the unique food sources available in those bottomland hardwood forests as primary drivers of daytime deer traffic from private to public, like old-growth white oaks, persimmons, and all kinds of juicy forbs that upland private parcels rarely offer. It took that missed connection with Tank for me to realize the leverage those areas also held as thermal refugia during fall and winter heat waves.

I filed that lesson away for the next temperature surge and quickly realized there was another advantage to braving warm weather on public land. One that followed the thought process of the average weekend warrior.

Because the South is second only to New England in terms of human population density, a lot of public land in the region is inherently tight to development. Knowing how to play off private land pressures is a huge advantage for a Southern public land hunter.

The season prior to my fumble with Tank, I noticed that I generally saw more deer activity on weekends compared to weekdays, and I anecdotally attributed that to people working on neighboring private lands where most whitetails in the area were bedding. More than once, I heard a chainsaw or lawnmower fire up and had deer show up minutes later. Once I started deliberately hunting heat waves, I realized a similar pattern was also working in my favor.

Consider the temperatures most folks set their thermostats to. Usually somewhere in the neighborhood of 72 degrees, because that’s what human biology says is most comfortable for rest and relaxation. Coincidentally, that was a common temperature range for post-October warm fronts in central North Carolina. And the non-hunting residents, sick of being cooped up in cold weather, responded accordingly.

Weekday or weekend, if the mercury was too high by my standards as a whitetail hunter, I could bet that the masses would be out enjoying the sunshine and incidentally pushing deer my way. I could also bet that I’d pretty much have the woods to myself, because most of my competition was waiting on the next frost.

The venn diagram of deer hunters and people who are obsessed with cold fronts is probably close to a perfect circle. I’m not saying anyone is wrong for feeling that way, because cold fronts can be incredible if you hunt them the right way. The problem is, that’s among the most common knowledge in the whitetail world. Anyone with an ounce of skin in the game is likely to hit the woods when the temperature drops.

I consider myself a pretty gracious public land hunter. I’m happy to share the land with other sportsmen and women because I want this lifestyle to persist despite the modern world constantly pushing away from it. But I also don’t love running into other hunters while I’m trying to fill a tag.

It’s nothing personal; I just prefer the feeling of solitude and whitetails that aren’t on edge from overwhelming hunting pressure. Hunting in warm weather might not feel great, but it’s a surefire way to separate yourself from the cold-front crowds. And you’ll probably find that it’s worth the extra sweat on your brow.

I sat in the truck at the public boat ramp, sipping bad gas station coffee and watching a parade of glitter-covered bass boats launch and race away. They were in a hurry to get to wherever they thought the bass were holed up.

I wasn’t in much of a hurry. When the last boat disappeared around the point, I grabbed my spinning rod and a Rat-L-Trap and walked down the shoreline in my flip-flops. On the third cast, my line went tight as a largemouth bulldogged for deeper water, pulling line from a rig that probably cost me less than a tank of gas in the prettiest boat that launched that morning. A few minutes later, I lipped the fish and looked out across the water. There wasn’t a boat in sight.

Bass don’t know how much your boat payment is or if you even have one. If you can land a lure where they’re living, there’s a chance they’re going to bite it. And a surprising number of bass spend a good chunk of their lives within casting distance of the bank. Some of the best bass water on Earth sits right up against the shoreline. And that’s more than enough if you know how to fish it.

A lot of anglers treat bank fishing like they’re married to a single spot. You may not have a trolling motor to drift from point to point or ease along a grass line, but you still have two perfectly good feet. Don’t be afraid to use them. You should be moving more than you’re standing still.

Just don’t slosh and stomp around the shoreline. Bass are especially skittish in shallow water. A heavy step or a dark shape sweeping over a laydown can send them swimming.

Move like you’re still-hunting for deer. Fish can feel vibrations through the water, so step lightly and watch where you cast your shadow. Keep a low profile when you can, and when possible, make some casts before you’re right on top of the water.

Take the same approach from the bank as you would a boat. Find structures that give bass a reason to hang out. Shady docks, ledges that drop into deeper water, weed beds, culverts, and laydowns that break current will all hold bass. Most of that structure can be reached from the bank.

The best water isn’t always the most convenient. Don’t skip the spot closest to the parking lot, but don’t stop there. Keep moving down the shoreline until you find fish.

Bass boats spend a lot of time working shoreline water. That’s because there are plenty of bass there. Food, cover, and movement all funnel toward the edges. The groceries live in shallow water. Bluegill, shad fry, crawfish, and frogs all hang out there. And bass like to sit right in the buffet line. They don’t need to travel far when dinner is liable to swim right past their nose.

Cover seals the deal. Docks, weeds, laydowns, and drop-offs give bass a place to hide and pin prey. And most cover lies within casting distance of the bank.

Fishing from the bank may even have a few advantages over boat fishing. Boat anglers sometimes spend a lot of time zipping from spot to spot chasing the bite. Meanwhile, the guy on shore is busy fishing. He’s also approaching the same cover, but from angles high-pressure bass see less often.

Bank anglers can’t feasibly carry seventeen rods all strung up with different baits, so every lure you carry needs to earn its weight. I tend to think of my bank-fishing lures in terms of what jobs they do well. I want something that helps me cover water fast, something that can get the attention of fish from a distance, and something that can clean up if the first two fail.

I like to cover water fast when I first walk up to the shoreline, and a spinnerbait or a lipless crankbait like a Rat-L-Trap helps me search water fast because I can make a lot of casts in a hurry. Those baits are also forgiving. They tend to shrug off grass, slide over overhead limbs, and slide past gnarly underwater junk better than anything with treble hooks. That matters more than you may think when you can’t really pick your casting angles. I throw them along points, creek mouths, grass beds, around pylons, or anywhere else that looks bassy.

I also love a good topwater bait. A buzzbait or jitterbug not only covers a lot of surface area, but they also make a ton of racket that can sometimes draw fish in from a distance. There’s nothing subtle about these baits. They’re loud. They’re obnoxious. Sometimes that’s exactly what a bass wants. There’s also something about seeing a fish explode through the surface to hammer a lure that gets the adrenaline pumping.

Finally, I like a Texas-rig worm for bank fishing. I don’t use it as a search bait. I use it more as a problem solver. If a spinnerbait or buzzbait comes back empty after covering some bassy water, I don’t keep grinding it out. But if I think it might be worth a little extra effort, I’ll tie on a Texas rig.

A Texas rig lets me slow down for just a minute. I can drag it across a log, pitch it into the darkest shade of a dock, or drop it into thick lily pads. If something is lurking down there, a slow-working worm could be just the thing you need to entice a bite. If that doesn’t work either, I move to a new stretch of shoreline.

It might be tempting to stand on the bank and pitch a bait straight out into the water as far as you can cast. But the longest cast isn’t necessarily the best one. Bass aren’t just casually sitting 20 yards out from the bank waiting for a snack to pass overhead. They position themselves relative to something in the water, and the longer your bait stays near that cover, the better your chances of getting a bite.

Try to cast parallel to structure whenever possible so you can work your bait along the edge for longer. The same bait worked perpendicular to the same structure may only spend a few feet in the strike zone. But if it swims parallel, it will spend most of the retrieve swimming right where bass like to be.

A bass boat can open up a whole lot of water. And I definitely won’t argue if somebody wants to hand me the keys to a hot new set-up. But bass don’t care whether you arrived at the lake in an expensive glitter-covered boat or a cheap pair of flip-flops. They care about food and cover. And fortunately, there’s plenty of both within casting distance of the bank.

On January 7th, 2019, Kevin Young received a phone call that would upend his family's life: his father's house was on fire, and no one knew where he was. By morning, investigators had found human remains in the garage, and the evidence pointed to something far more sinister than an accident.

Dr. Jon Young was an 80-year-old retired archeologist who had spent decades studying the native peoples of the American southwest. He built his home in Taos, New Mexico, by hand out of adobe — a material so fire-resistant that his family knew immediately something was wrong.

Fire investigator Jimmy Vigil confirmed their fears: the blaze had ignited in at least five locations, almost simultaneously. The autopsy revealed what appeared to be a hole in Dr. Young's skull. And his body, investigators noted, had been found wedged upright in a corner of the garage, a position that made no sense if he had simply succumbed to the smoke.

Yet despite mounting evidence of foul play, local law enforcement never officially investigated Dr. Young's death as a homicide. The Taos County Sheriff's Office said it was the fire marshal's case. The fire marshal's office said they don't investigate homicides without law enforcement involvement. Seven years later, the case remains in a state of limbo, and no one has ever been charged.

Kevin and his son Austin came to Blood Trails hoping that's about to change. This episode follows the trail they've been walking alone for years: a Jicarilla Apache family's troubling visit weeks before the fire, a violent serial burglar operating nearby, a private investigator stonewalled at every turn, and the pry marks on a door that may hold the only physical clue to what really happened on Mirlo Road.

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In Part 2 of Bear Grease's Civil War series, host Clay Newcomb examines the rise of Abraham Lincoln, the secession of the Southern states, and the complicated legacy of Robert E. Lee. Alongside historian J.D. Hewitt of The History Underground, Clay explores the ideas, personalities, and decisions that pushed the nation toward its bloodiest conflict, and discovers that history's heroes and villains are often far more complicated than we remember.

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Not everyone keeps the thighs from a wild turkey, and honestly, it’s a shame. Dark meat can be one of the most flavorful parts of the bird when it’s given the time it needs to cook properly. Most recipes lean toward soups, stews, or shredded barbecue, but confit, a classic French technique, is one of the best ways to turn turkey thighs into something truly special.

The meat is first cured with garlicky salt, then slowly cooked in fat or oil until silky, tender, and deeply savory. A crockpot makes the process simple and nearly hands-off, keeping the temperature low and steady for hours. While duck fat or schmaltz adds incredible richness, a neutral oil like avocado or grapeseed works surprisingly well, too.

The finished meat is succulent enough to pull apart with a fork. You can serve it just as you would duck confit, with sides like potatoes or a bright, acidic salad. You can also shred the meat and serve it in sandwiches, tossed with pappardelle and red sauce, or as an appetizer on crostini with cheese and a balsamic glaze. Perhaps my favorite way to eat confit turkey thighs is to dredge them in buttermilk and flour and deep-fry them until golden and crispy!

Pump-action shotguns, like the iconic Mossberg 500 or Remington 870, have proven themselves in some of the harshest hunting environments. They stand up to dirt, grit, and frigid temperatures that would choke or jam semi-automatics. You can abuse the hell out of a pump shotgun, cake it with mud, or drop it in the lake, and it will still perform. Many hunters often prefer the reliability of a pump over any other shooting platform because they are less apt to fail, which is important when you are miles away from the truck at a public walk-in unit.

Some of the best pump shotguns can be found on the used rack at your local gun store. Many of the new pump shotguns are functional, but they are generally not built as well as the pumps our fathers and grandfathers owned. That’s not a knock on the craftsmanship of today’s pumps. A generation (or two) ago, the pump shotgun was a far more popular item among hunters, so gun companies dedicated more time to their development.

The fact is, a pump shotgun from the 1950s or 1960s may run just as well, or better, than many new pump shotguns. Pumps of that era, and shotguns that emulated their design, are still widely available on the used market and can be bought for a similar cost as today’s models. Most folks gravitate to what is new and shiny when buying just about anything. But in the case of the pump shotgun, old and dusty is often the better option. With that in mind, here’s six of the best pump-action shotguns of all time.

Winchester Model 12

Gauge: 12, 16, 20, 28

Capacity: 6+1

Barrel Length: 26-in, 28-in, 30-in, 32-in

Weight: 7.5 lbs

T.C. Johnson’s Winchester Model 12 is one of the most well-made mass-produced pump shotguns in American history. Built like a tank, the Model 12 was offered in 12-, 16-, 20-, and 28-gauge. A drawback for today’s hunters is the fact a majority of Model 12s were chambered for 2¾-inch shotshells. However, a magnum 3-inch 12-gauge was produced from the mid-1930s to the 1960s. The Model 12 was especially popular among clay and skeet shooters but served hunters just as well afield. It’s a multi-purpose shotgun that saw action in WWII, the Korean War, and the Vietnam War. The Model 12’s popularity was supplanted by the less expensive Remington 870 and Mossberg 500, but neither of those shotguns was hand-fitted during the assembly process like the Model 12 was. More than 2 million M12s were produced, which should make one easy to find.

Winchester Model 42

Gauge: .410

Capacity: 5+1 (3-inch)

Barrel Length: 26-in, 28-in

Weight: 5.75 lbs

John Olin introduced the first 3-inch magnum shotshell chambered for the .410 so that the Winchester Model 42 would appeal to skeet shooters and hunters alike. Its design was based on the Model 12. However, there were enough differences for Model 42, which had a removable sideplate to access the internals, to get its own designation. The Model 42 was dubbed “everyone’s sweetheart” due to its light weight and low recoil (so that anyone could shoot it). Fewer Model 42s were made, so it’s a much more rare find than the M12, and has a higher price that can exceed $1,500.

Remington Model 31

Gauge: 12, 16, 20

Capacity: 3+1

Barrel Length: 20-in, 26-in, 28-in, 30-in, 32-in

Weight: 6.8 lbs

Remington’s response to the Winchester Model 12 was the John Browning-designed Model 31. It was based on the Remington Model 17 platform, but the M31 featured one key difference—a side-loading gate. The M17 was a bottom-feed pump, which was fine for hunting but not ideal on the clays range. Remington offered the Model 31 in 12- and 16-gauge initially, followed by a 20-gauge option. Known as the “ball bearing repeater” for its smooth action, the Model 31 was built on a steel frame and also a lighter alloy frame. More than 190,000 31s were produced over nearly two decades before the economical Remington 870 replaced it in 1950.

Browning BPS

Gauge: 10, 12, 20, 28, .410

Capacity: 4+1

Barrel Length: 26-in, 28-in

Weight: 7lbs or 9lbs (depending on gauge)

The BPS (Browning Pump Shotgun) is based on the Remington 31 and another John Browning design, the Ithaca 37. Browning recently discontinued the bottom-eject BPS after it enjoyed almost 50 years in production, but there are plenty of used and new models to be had in every legal gauge. Unlike the Winchester 12 and 42 and the Remington 31, the BPS has screw-in chokes you can easily swap in and out. The Winchesters and Remington have fixed chokes, which means you may have to buy multiple barrels depending on the intended use of those shotguns. The recoil of a 3½-in 10- or 12-gauge variant of the BPS may cause you permanent shoulder damage, but the sub-guages are more tolerable and fun to shoot.

Remington 870

Gauge: 12, 20, .410

Capacity: 4+1

Barrel Length: 26-in, 28-in

Weight: 7lbs

Produced in every gauge but 10, the Remington 870 used stamped parts and was built on the 16-gauge frame of the Model 11-87. This made the 870 cheaper and easier to produce than the Winchester Model 12. Since 1950, more than 11 million 870s have rolled off the assembly line in a smattering of variants. The vaunted Wingmaster remains in production, but the price point Express has been replaced by the Fieldmaster. Most 870s are solid, but Remington did run into some production issues with the gun at times. Before you buy a used model, look for any raised steel burrs in the action and ask the gun counter clerk if they will load and eject three dummy shotshells to ensure proper cycling.

Mossberg 500

Gauge: 12, 20, .410

Capacity: 5+1

Barrel Length: 20-in, 26-in, 28-in

Weight: 6.5 lbs

John Browning’s Model 31 design was so well done Mossberg decided to emulate it when building the 500. It was a smart move. More than 10 million 500s have been sold. Still in production, the 500 is available in 12- and 20-gauge, plus .410 bore. It has multiple configurations and can be used for hunting just about anything, including small game, upland birds, waterfowl, turkey, deer, hogs, and more. There are also home-defense variants of the 500. Mossberg also developed the 500 Flex series. This allows shooters to change recoil pads, stocks, forends, and barrels without tools.

Fishing in the West has blown up in recent years, particularly river fishing for trout—and for good reason. Western states hold some of the best trout waters in the world. But the rising popularity has led to significantly increased crowding and pressure on many waterways in the West, to the detriment of fisheries and anglers alike.

Thankfully, there are still plenty of underrated—and less trafficked—opportunities to catch fish out West, especially if you don’t mind using different tactics, targeting unexpected species, and fishing different types of waterbodies. This list is meant to inspire anglers to break away from the crowds and find new, underrated fishing opportunities. It’s broken into general regions and species to encourage exploration and avoid spot burning. Start here—and then go on your own epic Western fishing adventure.

Idaho is known best for its steelhead fishing and backcountry trout streams, but don’t sleep on the chance to target huge white sturgeon in steep canyons hundreds of miles away from the Pacific Ocean. These slow-growing fish fight hard and live in some incredibly scenic, large rivers in the Gem State. They can grow to over 10 feet; keep in mind that catch-and-release is mandatory.

Similar to Idaho, Washington is renowned for its anadromous fishing opportunities, many of which stem from the famed Columbia River Basin. That said, the healthy common carp populations in many of the Columbia River impoundments in Central Washington can make for exciting bait fishing or sight fishing “spot and stalk” opportunities in the shallows.

Western Montana is a river fishing mecca, but too many anglers miss out on the lake fishing here, particularly on the hard water. I experienced some of the hardwater fishing for the first time last winter and had a blast: the trout fishing can be fast and furious, and the big trout that are difficult to catch during the summer will often bite readily during the less-pressured winter months.

Other than the Flaming Gorge and Lake Powell, Utah isn’t particularly esteemed as a Western fishing destination, though there are plenty of lesser-known options for warm and cold water species. One of my favorites is targeting channel catfish in the Colorado River near Moab. The river holds plenty of good eaters—and a couple of sizeable specimens, too. If it were in the East, where catfishing is more popular, it would be substantially more well-known.

Anglers in the Golden State have had to contend with significantly tightened regulations on many saltwater and freshwater species in recent years, including the near-total closure of the salmon fishery and sturgeon being moved to catch-and-release only. However, for anglers looking for a Western saltwater fishing adventure, consider California halibut, which are fun to target while drifting bays in a boat or casting swimbaits from shore.

If you want to catch a lunker lake trout, head to Colorado. Yes, Colorado. While Blue Mesa isn’t necessarily a hidden gem, considering the unofficial world record was caught and released there several years ago, it would be significantly more on the radar if it was somewhere lake trout fishing was more popular, like the Midwest. Targeting trophy lake trout here can be done both by jigging while ice fishing and trolling in open water. There are several other good, even lesser-known, laker reservoirs in the general vicinity of Blue Mesa, too.

Warmwater species don’t typically spring to mind when it comes to the Cowboy State, but there are some good opportunities that get a fraction of the pressure of Wyoming’s freshwater fisheries. In particular, Wyoming can be a great place to target true trophy-sized pike. Keyhole Reservoir is the most well-established northern fishery here, but the predatory species can be found scattered in other lakes and rivers throughout the state.