When most Americans think of Mexico, they think of beach resorts. I have nothing against Cancun and Puerto Vallarta, but if we’re being honest, you’re not getting the real Mexico experience when you book an all-inclusive resort for the weekend.

Top to bottom, Mexico is an incredible place. It’s vibrant. It’s delicious. It’s welcoming. It has more world-class tequila than you could drink in a lifetime. In my opinion, it’s a must for anyone who likes to eat and drink life to the fullest and Guadalajara is a great place to start.

Why? It has a little bit of everything. As the seventh largest city in the country, it’s definitely not small, but it’s also not Mexico City. You can enjoy the finest modern restaurants and attractions, while also getting out to the countryside in no time. In this guide, let’s imagine you’re spending 72 hours in one of my favorite places on earth. It’s going to be a great weekend.

Day 1: Getting Your Feet Wet

I don’t know about you, but when I get off of a flight, I’m ready for a beer and comfort food. You’ve got plenty of options right away, including Birrieria Chololo Carretera a Chapala, which is just minutes from the airport. The name may be hard to say, but this staple is a great introduction to Jaliscan cuisine. A “birrieria” is simply a restaurant that serves birria, a generic name for a stewed meat dish, often made with goat. It’s delicious.

Or, if you’d like to get into the heart of the city right off the bat, I’d highly recommend swinging by Theo by Vincent for a more modern take on traditional Jaliscan dishes. It’s a great pit stop on the way to one of the pillars of culture in the region—destilerias.

Any trip to Jalisco needs to include tequila. Sure, it’s a delicious drink, but it’s far more than that for Jaliscans. As the epicenter for quality tequila, it’s an ancient and deeply rooted tradition that dates back for centuries. In other words, what wine is to Bordeaux, tequila is to Jalisco. It’s important. Heading northwest out of the city, you’ll find two great distilleries—Tequila Fortaleza and Tequilere Arette de Jalisco. You could easily plan an entire vacation around touring tequila distilleries, but these two are a great place to start.

After a full day of flying and traveling, head back towards the center of the city for a nightcap at SE7ENTA, which has great cocktails and a full selection of tequilas you can browse—you know, since you’re an expert from your tours.

Day 2: Branch Out, Buy-In

Day two is where the magic happens. You’ve had 24 hours to adjust, brush up on your Spanish a bit, and now it’s time to sink your teeth into everything this incredible city has to offer. For the day, I’m recommending that you head south to Tlaquepaque. This suburb of Guadalajara has a little bit of everything but it’s particularly renowned for its shopping and dining.

And I’m not talking about refrigerator magnets and beach towels. Tlaquepaque’s streets are lined with charming little shops filled with antiques and ephemera that locals have gathered from around the region. It’s more akin to treasure hunting than shopping. Keep an eye out for art, furniture, and knick-knacks from a few decades old to several hundred years old.

Then, take a break and swing by Casa Luna, one of my favorite restaurants in the city. It strikes the perfect balance of being modern and innovative while also celebrating some of the ancient techniques that have shaped Jalisco’s food culture for centuries. Paired with a vibrant, open-air atmosphere, it’s a great place to unwind before you tackle more shopping.

If you haven’t drunk your weight in tequila by this point, this is your chance because Guadalajara’s nightlife is something to behold. Really, there are too many places to list, but I’ll say Farmacia and Vietnam are my two go-to’s in the heart of the city. Both are small and full of character. If you want a little taste of Texas with your Mexican bar, Farmacia’s jukebox is ready for your crew. It’s low, stone ceilings and extensive tequila selection are the perfect vibe for your night out. Then, make your way a few streets over to Vietnam, an oddly named bar that’s short on space, but not on fine tequilas. Don’t forget to sleep at some point.

Day 3: El Gran Final

Day three is a tricky one. The return to normal life looms in the air, which may give off a bittersweet feeling. It should also light a fire under your ass to make the most of Mexico and that’s exactly what we’re going to do.

I’m going to go out on a limb and say that you’re feeling the tequila just a bit from last night, so a quick bite and copious amounts of coffee are in order. Recharge, refuel, and then head to Pig’s Pearls for a surprisingly delicious burger. Yep, you read that right. Go grab a burger in Guadalajara—it’s good for the soul, and that hangover you’re nursing.

Now that you’re back among the living, I’d recommend improvising a little bit and following your nose around the historic district of the city. The Catedral de Guadalajara is just one of the many beautiful cathedrals around the city and you’ll find some sort of ancient attraction around every corner—not to mention markets and food carts. This area is a great way to make the day your own, whether it’s shopping, learning, eating, drinking, or all of the above.

Before you leave the historic district, kick off happy hour at Cantina la Fuente, one of the oldest cantinas in the city. It exudes old-world charm—be sure to ask about the story behind the bicycle hanging on the wall, and grab a paloma while you’re at it. Now we’re ready for our last evening in Guadalajara. It’s going to be a doozy.

For dinner plans, I’d probably head over to Xokol and experience one of the most creative iterations of Jaliscan cuisine out there and then mosey on over to the Turbio Wine Bar for a quick break from tequila. Lastly, there’s only one way to end your Jaliscan adventure: mariachi. Other than tequila, mariachi music may be the most important cultural touchpoint in the region. In fact, if you did nothing else than dance the night away to some mariachi tunes I wouldn’t blame you. Head to Casa Bariachi for the real deal. There’s a solid chance you’ll be the only tourist around, which means you’re in the right place. Be sure to throw some pesos to the band and you can have a tableside serenade you’ll never forget—just be sure to set an alarm for that flight in the morning.

I don’t have to tell you that this list is not exhaustive. I’ve been to Guadalajara quite a few times and I still feel like I’m only scratching the surface of what it has to offer, which is an exciting notion. In that spirit, I’d encourage you to use this guide as inspiration more than prescription. Test things out. Go explore. Eat some fried crickets. Jaliscans will be dancing the night away to the sweet sounds of Vincente Fernandez long after the gulf has washed those resorts away. You may as well join them.

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¿Quieres un poco inspiración para su viaje a México? Escuchas Mariachi Mùsica en Spotify.

Anglers love to talk about angling, which makes sense. You’ll notice, however, that the conversation peters out after they finish describing their unbelievably large catch. Onto the next story.

I can’t help but think that we’re missing half of the narrative, maybe even the most important part—what to do with it afterwards. The angling world is overrun with mishandled catches, and  you’ve probably seen the unfortunate result: a soggy, gray piece of meat that tastes similar to how a pair of waders smell after you’ve been trudging around in them all day.

As a chef, I can’t stand idly by and let some of my favorite table fare go mistreated. I believe Eliza Acton put it nicely about 179 years ago in her book, Modern Cookery for Private Families: “Nothing can more effectually destroy the appetite, or disgrace the cook, than fish sent to table imperfectly cleaned.”

I, for one, would love to avoid destruction and disgrace whenever possible, so let’s talk about how to best care for your catch, starting with the boat and ending with a delicious bite.

Step One: Out of the Water

At this point, you’ve already decided that you want to keep a fish. Assuming you’ve legally and responsibly made this decision, more power to you and congrats on catching dinner. But, let’s not celebrate quite yet. Dispatching and storing the fish is, bar none, the step that is fumbled most often on boats, docks, and on banks around the world. We need to get this right.

Here are my three fish-care commandments:

• Thou shalt not put a live fish on ice.
• Thou shalt not put a live fish in a live well for an extended period of time.
• Thou shalt not put a live fish on a stringer for an extended period of time.

On paper, these methods may seem fine, but all of these methods stress out fish for long periods of time as they die a slow death. Not only is this inhumane, it’s also detrimental to the meat. Stress releases lactic acid, cortisol, and adrenaline, which will give the meat an ‘off’ flavor and may affect the texture as well. Even then, a fish will likely die in a live well or on a stringer, and at that point you’re in a race against time to get your (probably already spoiled) meat to the fridge before things get bad.

The good news is that the correct way is oftentimes simpler than the incorrect way.

First things first, decide ahead of time if you’re going to potentially keep fish and then bring a cooler full of ice. When you land your catch, you can either give it a forceful strike on the head with a heavy, blunt object to stun and/or kill it, cut the gills, and put it in the cooler. It may seem messy, but it’s a quick and effective way to humanely kill your catch and ensure it stays fresh. The Japanese have been using a practice called ike jime for centuries, which emphasizes the same basic principles of stunning and bleeding (and they know a thing or two about delicious seafood).

The more quickly you kill the fish, the more humane and less stressed it will be, and removing the blood from the fish will stop the meat from taking on what many people describe as a “fishy” flavor. Personally, I think this is a misnomer for “poorly prepared fish.”

Lastly, get that fish on ice. At this point, you most likely don’t need to do any more cleaning of the fish. If you’re still going to be fishing for a bit, simply let the fish cool off on ice and enjoy your day on the water—it’ll be fine well after your boat runs out of gas. I highly recommend at least gutting the fish as soon as you get back to the dock because a gutted fish will last for up to five days on ice, giving you much more flexibility on multi-day trips or when life gets in the way.

Now it’s time to decide what to do with your catch. There’s no one answer, but I’m going to do my best to make this comprehensive.

The first step is simple. Do you want to eat the fish now or later? If you follow the previous steps, then you have three to five days to get the meat on the table—but sooner is always better. If there’s any chance of it being longer, it’s best to prepare for freezing. You’re still left with the choice of how to freeze the fish. This depends on how you want to cook it and what type of fish you’re freezing, but here are three options:

Keep it whole

This is the simplest method because, well, you don’t have to do anything. That being said, I like to reserve this method for the appropriate type of fish. Some classic fish for serving whole are redfish, red snapper, flounder, and freshwater trout.

Half shell

This term simply refers to keeping the skin on a filet, which is a great way to grill a fish. This works well with fish that have thicker skin, like salmon, steelhead, redfish, snapper, and countless other types of saltwater fish.

Filets

This is the most common type of preparation, where you cut the meat off of the fish and store it as you would most other kinds of meat. What it lacks in pizazz, it makes up for in versatility and efficiency. I’m not going to dive into fileting in this article, but this video from Epicurious has everything you need to know.

For whole fish and fish on the half shell, it’s best to descale a fish before freezing, which you can do using the edge of a spoon or the spine of a knife and scraping against the scales towards the head. For half-shell preparations and filets, keep an eye out for any fat in the meat. Fish fat is generally a brownish-gray color and is easy to spot against light-colored meat. While it doesn’t necessarily have to be removed, any hint of an off flavor will most likely come from the fat, so it just helps to ensure a clean, fresh taste to the meat. I’ve found this to be particularly true when cleaning catfish—cut that fat off.

Step Four: Storage

Or, maybe it’s time to tuck that fish away for another day. When putting fish in the freezer, I like to keep the meat as dry as possible. If you have the time, I like to put the fish in a pan with paper towels to soak up some moisture—you can leave it covered in a fridge for a few hours or even overnight. If you don’t have the time, a quick pat with a paper towel is fine.

My favorite way to store fish is with vacuum sealing. It’s the best way to keep air away from the fish and it stores very nicely in your freezer. If you don’t have a vacuum sealer, here’s a trick—put the fish in an appropriately sized zip lock bag and submerge the bag in a sink or tub full of water with the opening above the surface. Essentially, the pressure from the water will create a vacuum, pushing out the air from the bag. It’s not quite as effective as the real deal, but can be surprisingly effective.

If neither of those methods strike your fancy, you can wrap it as well. Start by wrapping the meat in plastic wrap, then wrap it again with butcher paper. Tape it up, label it, and you’re good to go. I’d recommend eating the fish sooner than later, though, because this method is by far the most prone to freezer damage from air leaking into the wrap. Once frozen, the FDA says you can keep raw fish for up to eight months—but a well-prepared piece of fish meat shouldn’t have to last that long in the freezer.

You may be thinking, “This seems like a lot of work.” Well, it is, but so is planning a trip, driving, tying knots, casting, and nursing that sunburn, so a little extra won’t hurt. It’s also the least we can do for the resource. No matter how you swing it, that dinner on your table comes at a cost, and as anglers, let’s show some respect to the fish by doing whatever we can to ensure the meat stays fresh and delicious for the table. I know anglers love their stories, but catching the fish is just part of it—don’t forget to nail the ending.

I’m a fifth-generation Texan and also the president of Goode Company Restaurants, a business my dad started in 1977 that’s grown to 12 restaurants in Houston, with more to come. That’s taken up a good chunk of my time over the past 25 years or so since I took the helm, but I’ve still been able to make room for my passions—cooking, travel, dive-bar exploration, fishing, and hunting. You know, Texan stuff.

It’s not lost on me that I get to enjoy a lot of privileges. I’ve seen just about every corner of the state, soaked up the atmosphere, knocked a few back, and there’s been a twangy soundtrack behind just about all of it. And, as Texas grows larger every day, with new folks from around the world earning their honorary Texan status, it feels like a good time to set the record straight.

Ultimately, I want to help build a full picture of what Texas truly entails, and what it means to be a Texan. Of course, there’s no one answer, but that’s the beauty of it. I want to explore the state and beyond, to highlight the things that connect us and also make us unique. I want Texans, both new and old, to read these pages and come away with a deeper understanding of what they want Texas to be, not just what it’s going to be or what it’s been.

My job? I’m simply the conversation starter, and here are a few ways I plan to get things rolling.

Food-forward

First and foremost, I’m a food man. Always have been. I firmly believe that the best way to get to know a place and the people who live there is to sample the local cuisine—whether that’s an roadside taco on the New Mexico border or a high-end exploration of South Texas flavors at Credence (my newest concept). Every dish has a story, and I love a good story—particularly one with some spice.

Food will be the foundation for much of what this site has to offer. You'll be able to test new recipes inspired by my personal history, learn hard-earned techniques, or get the lowdown on a place you should add to your culinary bucket list. Either way, come hungry.

Texas in its natural state

Of course, you can’t have good food without nature, and I see the two as inextricably linked. I’m a hunter and angler, which means I’m also a foodie. I love to explore vibrant flavors at their source, to get the purest rendition of what Mother Nature has to offer and then put it on a plate. I have saltwater in my blood, so expect plenty of coastal excursions, along with forays into the woods for the tastiest game on four legs or flying through the air. On top of that, I’ll offer some tips and tricks to navigate the outdoors as a hunter and angler, drawing on my knowledge from more than a few decades of romping around the state’s wild places.

Lastly, I deeply believe that hunters and anglers are the best advocates for wild places, and also carry the heaviest responsibility to protect those places. I’m going to explore the successes, failures, obstacles, and opportunities I see across Texas and beyond, highlighting conservation efforts that are essential to what we do and the places we explore.

Your good-time guide

If I were to wrap my life with a tidy bow, I’d say that I was born to create a good time. It’s as simple as that. It’s why I’ve been in the restaurant business for so long, and it’s why I find myself seeking out any place with cold drinks and good tunes in tow. I’m naturally inclined toward hospitality, to make sure everyone has a smile on their face and, if not, to get them to one as soon as possible. Through this site, I want to accomplish that goal by letting Texans know about the sights and sounds that have certain significance to our state.

I want to seek out the music, history, and destinations that have helped shape an identity for the Lone Star State, so we can all continue to shape it for decades to come. I’ll help you plan road trips across the state, build your own bucket list, and shed some neon light on that undiscovered dive bar.

You may notice that none of this lives in a silo. I’ve done my best to make my work a passion, and make my passions my work. I love it, and wouldn’t have it any other way. My goal for this brand is the same. I want the wild game to be a foundation for a recipe, and for that recipe to tell a story. I want the post-hunt celebration to just happen to swing by a dive bar that’s been slinging drinks for 100 years. I want the fishing to be as much about the conversation as the catching. I want all of this to show the world the value of wild places. And, ultimately, I want it all to point to a place unlike any other on the planet—hard to know, easy to love, and always ready for a party. It’s called Texas, and I can’t wait to show it to you.

Speckled trout and I go way back. The same is true for a lot of us here in Texas.

We’re lucky because they’re plentiful along the Texas Gulf Coast and have been for years and years. Striking out on redfish? Go find some trout to throw on the grill—there always seem to be a few around. I fear that proliferation has led to a bit of a careless attitude towards the fish. Trout are an important building block in the Gulf Coast’s ecosystem and, if they’re around, it’s an indication that we’re sitting pretty from a conservation standpoint. Of course, the opposite is true as well.

What can we do about this? Plenty. While conservation organizations are extremely important, the most important conservation efforts begin and end with us—anglers. Let’s lay the groundwork.

The state of specks

If you look at the Gulf Coast as a whole, the health of speckled trout populations is a mixed bag at best. As of early 2023, Louisiana faces its lowest population ever due to overfishing and habitat loss. Their state biologists are currently struggling to convince the incredibly influential commercial and recreational fishing markets that while tighter regulations may seem bad for business—declining trout populations are far worse.

In Florida, they face dwindling populations year after year, although water mismanagement seems to be the culprit. Massive amounts of historical development throughout the state, along with supposed mishandling of natural water sources, has decimated grasslands, marshes, mangroves, and coastlines. This means water salinity has been a constant struggle in recent years, which has led to all sorts of fishery problems, from which the speckled sea trout is not immune. Their populations are nearing all-time lows.

It’s not apples-to-apples. Texas has traditionally boasted cleaner aquatic environments than Florida, and has very different coastal environments than our closest neighbors to the east. I’d also say that we have two things in common—booming development and booming human populations— two factors that have been named as primary suspects by our neighboring states.

Trends in Texas

Overall, we’ve been seeing a decline in trout numbers since 2004, which is likely due to historical freezes, increased fishing pressure, as well as some environmental shifts across the coast. Places like San Antonio and Aransas Bay have seen a significant reduction in angler catches, while Matagorda Bay—while once experiencing a similar decline—is currently on the rebound.

So is the sky falling in Texas? No. And that’s great news. Things have been better, sure, but they’ve also been worse and populations seem to be improving. To their credit, Texas Parks & Wildlife has been proactive. After the massive freeze of February 2021, which killed innumerable trout, they enacted emergency slot lengths in some areas to help populations bounce back, and we’re already seeing positive results—so much so that they’re widening those limits for this year.

The question is, are we doing enough? The truth of the matter is that politics are a necessary evil when it comes to conservation, but we shouldn’t be relying solely on Austin to protect the places and pastimes we love along the coast.

Conservation on an individual scale

In Texas, we’re a very conservation-minded group. Hell, the Coastal Conservation Association started in Houston because people like my dad saw a need to protect our coastal waterways and the fish that swim among them. As coastal anglers, we need to set the example for what grass-roots conservation looks like, both for our fellow Texans and anglers across the country. Here are a few ideas for taking on a personal conservation attitude:

suck at fishing

Just kidding. Sort of. There’s no better conservation strategy than being unable to hook into a fish. If you’re a bad angler, God bless you—your money for fishing licenses is being put to good use.

Self-imposed limits

Bag limits are the bare minimum, and so are slot limits. Think about reducing the amount of fish you keep—particularly the larger fish, which are typically females.

Catch-and-release within reason

Many anglers consider catch-and-release fishing a win-win for both fish and anglers. But studies have shown that speckled trout have an 80–90% survival rate when being released—meaning 1–2 of 10 aren’t going to make it. Even if you’re not planning to keep fish, maybe take it easy on them if the numbers start stacking up.

Safe fish handling

If you are practicing catch-and-release, be sure to release the fish quickly and make sure there aren’t any sharks nearby who are going to move in for an unearned meal.

Make anglers earn it

Think about how openly you share your favorite spots. Without being a jerk about it, let anglers find their own honey holes. This will help prevent overcrowding, overfishing, and ultimately help the angler by giving them the chance to learn for themselves.

Give back

Lastly, give your time and money to conservation organizations. Through our work at Goode Co., we’ve partnered with CCA on numerous occasions and fully support their cause. We even make a special-edition pie for them. Do some research and find other organizations that are doing good work—there are plenty fighting the good fight.

Texans are known for protecting the things we love, and I don’t want trout to be a relationship we let slip away. The same holds true for family as for trout—it just wouldn't be the same without ’em.

Here’s my not-so-exhaustive list of events you should add to your road trip this fall. At the end of this article, I'll post any links and relevant information to help get the party started.

September

Whether you’re a hunter or not, there’s no escaping the fact that the dove opener is something akin to a national holiday in Texas. It’s a chance to circle the trucks around a sunflower field, pop the tailgate, and then pop a few cold ones. If the birds show up, even better. Yes, it marks the beginning of hunting season, but also the moment most beloved by all Texans—the impending cold fronts that come with it. It’ll still be blistering hot, but it’ll be blistering hot with a side of hope. So my recommendation is to find a field near you and keep your eyes to the sky—good things are coming.

October

It’s hard to pick just one event in October. It’s a great time of year, which is probably why the social calendar across the state starts to fill up quickly.

At the beginning of the month, it’s time to don your lederhosen for Oktoberfest. There are plenty of events to choose from, but the consensus is that Fredericksburg is the place to be for an authentic taste of Bavarian charm and copious steins of beer. Or, if you're looking for a small-town setting, be sure to hit up the Round Top Antiques Fair. It's one of my favorite spots in Texas, filled with character and surprisingly fine dining—plus, you never know what kind of treasure you may dig up.

For a soirée inspired by our neighbors to the south, celebrate the afterlife in style with San Antonio’s Dia de Los Muertos Festival—if you can’t make it to the real thing across the border. It may sound morbid, but it’s a beautiful Mexican tradition and anything but. Or, if you want to escape the crowds, head way out west to Guadalupe Mountains National Park to see fall foliage in its finest form. Its on my short list as well, and I've heard that McKittrick Canyon is a tough hike to beat.

November

Just when things are really starting to cool off in Texas, events start to heat up on opposite sides of the state. You could head south to the legendary Terlingua Chili Cook-Off—a place that has plenty of flavor, chili or not. Jerry Jeff Walker was onto something. Up north, by way of Amarillo, track down some top-tier rodeo action at the Working Ranch Cowboys Association (WRCA) World Championship Rodeo. If you looked up “real deal” in the dictionary, these guys and gals would be front and center.

And then, we have a much different kind of rodeo. If you’re like me, the colder temperatures make the hair stand up on the back of my neck for one reason only—the redfish run. Along the Texas Coast, “bull” redfish (i.e. the big boys) head into shallower water to spawn, and for a few weeks, anglers have their best shot at catching their personal best. Hook up the boat, hire a quality guide, or simply head for the jetties, and you’re in for one hell of a ride when that rod tip starts to bend. Hold on tight.

December

With the holiday season in full swing, it’s time to see Texas at its most festive. If you’re looking for a more classic approach, take a trip down to Galveston for the Dickens on the Strand celebration, where the city’s most iconic street decks the halls with all of the bells and whistles the city has to offer—music, food, drinks, live entertainment, and a step back in time.

Or, if you want to see how Mother Nature decks the halls, take a trip out past Fort Davis and attend a Star Party at the McDonald Observatory. Tucked in the Davis Mountains and surrounded by some of the darkest skies in the country—it's renowned for showing off celestial bodies via some of the most advanced telescopes on the planet.

If you’ve ticked off half of this list by the end of the year, you’ve done alright for yourself. Experiencing even one of these iconic Texas events will leave a lasting impression—just writing them down gets me excited to hit the road. Here’s a list of dates, locations, and resources to aid your adventure:

A scattergun, as the Texas Rangers called it, can be used in more ways than you may realize. It opens up the pursuit of game species that are too many to list here, from quail and dove to white-tailed deer and wild hogs, and it also opens up the sport of competitive (or not-so-competitive) shooting. Adding to its accessibility factor, shotgun shells are relatively cheap and plentiful.

Due to its overall simplicity and the gentle nature of lighter gauges, a shotgun is a great way to show new hunters and shooters their way around a firearm. But here’s the problem: the majority of us pick up a shotgun and just assume it’ll do the work for us. Then we find ourselves at the dove hunt, with little gray torpedoes flying around and nothing but a box of empty shells at our feet. Trust me, the old “I thought I cleaned this gun” trick isn’t going to fool anyone.

The good news is that it’s not too late. Learning how to fit, mount, and shoot a shotgun are foundational skills for any hunter and my goal is to help you build that foundation. In this two-part series, we’re going to tackle both the proper fit and mount for a shotgun and then how to put those techniques into action with the fun part.

Gun fit

Shooting a shotgun straddles the line between art and technique. You can’t worry about the nuts and bolts of shooting when a bird flushes or a clay target skips across your field of view. It has to be a reaction. With that in mind, much of the “technique” of shotgunning happens before you ever load a shell into the chamber. It starts with fit.

Go to the pro

First and foremost, if you’re new to shooting, go to a professional. Find a local shop with an expert and let them walk you through the fitting process and help you pin down the shotgun that’s best for you and your pursuits. If you’re looking for top-of-the-line shotguns and hard-earned experience, my go-to in the Houston area is Gordy & Sons. Even if you’re not in the market, it’s worth checking out their collection.

The blind test

When you’re looking at shotguns, start by shouldering the gun (unloaded, of course) with your eyes closed. Once you’re in a shooting position, open your eyes. Are you oriented down the barrel? Do you have a clear view past your bead (the sight at the end of the barrel)? Does the gun feel comfortable or is it awkward? Try this a few times to get a general idea of how the gun feels before moving forward.

Length of pull

One of the primary considerations for gun fit is its “length of pull,” which refers to the distance between the trigger and the end of the gun stock. A pull that is too short or too long will force you to mount and shoot the gun improperly, so a good fit is key here. With your hands around the stock and forend, lift the gun to your cheek and sight down the barrel. There should be a one- to three-finger gap between your nose and the base of your thumb—any farther and the pull is too long, and if your thumb is touching your nose, it’s too short.

Gun drop

A gun’s “drop” refers to the distance from the top of the barrel to the “comb”—the peak of the stock—as well as the “heel”—the far end of the stock. This fit is a bit more subjective and it primarily comes down to comfort and line of sight. For the comb drop, shoulder the gun and ensure your eye naturally sights along the barrel. Ideally, you’d be able to shoot a few clay targets or even paper targets to make sure you’re sighting correctly.

Generally speaking, field guns have a larger heel drop than guns designed for competitive target shooting. Some stocks are better for those with longer or shorter necks, but once again, a comfortable fit is more important and a drop of 1 ⅝" at the comb and 2 ½" at the heel is a good starting point for most people.

Gun cast

Some guns have a “cast,” which refers to a slight angle in the stock for right- and left-handed shooters. Right-handed guns are cast to the right (looking down the barrel), making it easy for the shooter to align their head over the barrel. For left-handed shooters mounting their gun on the left shoulder, the gun will cast to the left for the same reason. It’s worth noting that there are many guns with no cast at all, that are simply ambidextrous. For those southpaws out there, I know it can be tough to find the right fit for anything, shotguns included, so know that there are plenty of great left-handed shooters who’ve shouldered a right-handed gun—or just go with the cast-less option.

Gun mount/practice

Now that you’ve picked out your dream shotgun, it’s time to learn how to use it properly. You may think that mounting a shotgun should be part of the “shooting” section but I’ve split it out for a reason—not only because it’s incredibly important but also because it can happen well before you start shooting.

A dry run

Some of the best shooters out there are those who sit in their living room (gun unloaded—I’m going to keep saying that) and practice bringing their gun to shoulder. It may sound boring but it’s one of the best ways to get comfortable with your new gun and bake solid foundational skills into your subconscious.

There are a few options. First, go back to our blind test and repeat that process over and over again. Second, set up a few “targets” on a table and simply practice shouldering your gun and switching between targets. Lastly, if you really want to dial your skills, get a laser sight or a cheap laser pointer and attach it to your barrel. Being able to swing your gun along a straight line is important, and you can practice this indoors by tracing lines with the laser. You may be surprised at how difficult it can be to keep things steady and straight.

A Proper Mount

Your performance as a shooter is only as good as your mount, and it comes down to building solid habits. If you start early and practice often, mounting your shotgun will seem like second nature. Here’s how to do it: Raise your gun out and up. That’s it. Too many shooters only nail one part of this process, either raising the gun up and crowding their face or raising the gun out and craning their neck down to the barrel.

Your mount should be one fluid motion—moving the gun away from your body and lifting it to your cheek. You shouldn’t need to lower your head or adjust your positioning—the gun should adjust to you. As I said, it’s simple. Practice it over and over and over again at the beginning and you’ll be laying a solid foundation for any shot.

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It’s easy to skim through this part of the process. Technically, you could pick up a shotgun on day one and go hunting or head out to the range, but the more time you spend on these techniques and foundational elements, the better you’ll do when it comes to Part Two—where we put all of this into practice and learn how to shoot.

Three generations had drifted apart over the decades, and it was high time to ring the proverbial dinner bell and bring everybody home—for us, this has always been the Texas coast. It took a ringleader and some planning to get us all together, but damn, was it worth it.

Before you think this is just a chance for me to wax poetic about family, well, that’s only partially true. I figure my experience could hold true for a lot of us—Texans live in a big state, and it can be easy to drift away from those who matter most. Namely, those folks who share your last name. Maybe it’s time to close the gap and rekindle those connections, however that looks for you.

In lieu of preaching, I’ll just tell you why it mattered to me.

Closely tied, distantly tethered

There’s a reason I chose the coast for our family gathering—saltwater runs in our veins. The coast is where both sides of my family put down roots generations ago. My mother’s side came from Italy via New Orleans, where her father took up the clarinet and made a living as a professional jazz player in the French Quarter, eventually moving to Texas to work for Dow Chemical. On my dad’s side, his father also worked at Dow Chemical and they lived in Clute, Texas, where my dad could throw a rock and hit the Gulf of Mexico.

As a single-income family with five kids, my dad grew up enjoying the bounty of the coast because he had to—those oysters, trout, and redfish helped feed the family when times were tight. Eventually, that deep connection to the water was passed down to me and my family.

My dad had two brothers—Uncle Joe and Uncle John, who are now 80 and 85 years old, respectively. Uncle Joe and I have stayed close. We’re both fans of live music, and at eight decades old, he can still keep up with me—glass of Jack in hand—at just about any music festival we nab tickets for. As for Uncle John, he’s the classic older brother—responsible, conservative, and reliable. As a petroleum engineer, he founded one of the largest pipeline companies in Venezuela, but was forced out of the country when the government crumbled and Hugo Chávez swooped in, nationalizing most of the industry. He and his wife (a Venezuelan native) now live in Houston.

With both of them back in the States, I felt like the timing was perfect to get the boys back together.

For the record

Our getaway was a rare opportunity to mobilize all the Goode men I know—three generations of us—over to the coast for some fine eats, a friendly fishing tournament, and some storytelling of the highest caliber.

We borrowed a buddy’s beautiful Galveston home on the water. We booked a mariachi band. Best of all, we found a way to put our family’s narrative on the record. I was able to call in a colleague from Texas Foodways (a subset of the Southern Foodways Alliance, an incredible organization that documents and preserves food culture in the South) to interview my uncles about their time on the coast. None of us are getting any younger, and we figured there’s no time like the present to set our stories in stone.

As soon as Uncle Joe and John stepped foot in town, the memories flooded back. Our stay was only about 20 miles from their childhood home, and it’s amazing how a place can unlock those stories that have been tucked away in our subconscious. (It also helps that the Texas coast doesn’t change much—it largely looks the same, despite more than a few hurricanes that have rolled through since their early days.)

We toured their childhood home after the current homeowners were kind enough to let us in. We even went by Harden’s Dairy Bar, an iconic burger joint in Lake Jackson where Uncle John used to flip burgers back in 1962. The cook invited him to pick up where he left off, and we watched my uncle flip burgers the same way he had decades ago. He made the local newspaper.

Inspired by these memories, Uncle John told us a story I hadn’t heard before. After graduating from A&M, a local car dealership would finance a car for you if you showed them a job-offer letter—which he had from Exxon. John got his car, got Joe, and the two promptly took off on a road trip to Mexico, visiting family and seeing the sights. He recalled stopping to pick up a group of hitchhikers—a mariachi band trying to get to their next gig—under the agreement that they’d play for them during the drive.

Even though this story unfolded well before my days, I can vividly picture my uncles cruising through Old Mexico with a mariachi band as their only soundtrack, save for a stiff breeze coming through the windows. These are the stories I don’t want to lose.

What’s your big excuse?

This article isn’t about our weekend. It’s about what the weekend meant. I don’t need to tell you about the oysters we cooked up, or the cocktails, or the mariachi band, or the fishing tournament. I don’t even remember who won.

The weekend was about family. During those days on the coast, our name didn’t represent barbeque. It didn’t represent seafood. It didn’t even represent Houston. It represented John, Joe, and Jim. It represented a bond that can’t be broken, no matter the difference in our personalities or the distance between us.

Here’s the thing. You have a last name—dig into it. Do a little “blood test.” Dig up all of the skeletons from your family’s past, and you just might uncover a few Mexican road-trip stories along with ’em.

I can’t bring my dad back. Uncle John and Joe will be gone someday, too. So will I. When that happens, the only thing that remains are the stories we tell each other. I’m proud to say my kids will have access to these stories whenever they want them, whether that’s tomorrow or 30 years from now.

If you’ve been meaning to get the band back together, there’s no time like the present. Give your uncle or granddad or cousin a call. You never really know what’s going to happen, but that makes for the best stories anyway. That, and a good mariachi band.

As you’ll quickly learn, shooting a shotgun is more akin to art than science, which is why I love it. That being said, don’t expect to master it any time soon. Like any art, you’ll be unstoppable one day and targets will be unbreakable the next. It’s just the way it is. But as long as you pay attention to the principles from Part One and apply them along with the principles in Part Two, you’ll be an effective shotgunner faster than you can say “pull.”

I’m going to break this down into some basic principles. Write them down. Study them. Take them to the range. Impress your buddies who’ve spent way too much time on the golf course when they should’ve been spending their time wisely—shooting shotguns.

1. Don’t aim, point

This is the foundational element of shotgunning. It’s also one of the most difficult things to learn, particularly for those who’ve spent a good amount of time behind a rifle or even a bow. In the field, you don’t have time to think about logistics when a quail flushes in front of you. In fact, I can’t tell you how many times I’ve seen shooters (and, admittedly, myself) whiff on the “easiest” shots, where they have plenty of time to watch their target. On the other hand, I’ve seen the look on many hunters’ faces when they nail a “miracle” shot that caught them off-guard.

There’s a reason that “easy” shots are hard and “hard” shots are easy. One forces an intuitive response, and the other an analytical response. Proper shotgun technique turns the gun into an extension of your body. With the proper fit and mount, the gun will shoot where you point it—intuitively. If you try to “aim,” you’re going to overthink it and probably crane your neck down the barrel. But, if you trust your mount and trust your gun and just point it at the target and squeeze, you’ll be blown away by the result—and so will that clay pigeon.

2. See the target first

There’s a saying—“Slow is smooth and smooth is fast”—and that applies directly here. You may think it’s best to get your sights on the target right away, but whenever possible, do your best to slow down and take a good look at your target—you have more time than you may think.

I like to keep my gun at a lowered (but ready) position near my waist and pointed upward. I spot my target first, then raise my gun to take aim. If the target is moving crossways in front of you, this is particularly important because it gives you more time to gauge its speed and trajectory. If you immediately take aim on a crossing target, it’s very difficult to maintain a consistent swing until you’re locked on. If you wait, and raise just before you’re ready to shoot, you only need to track with the target for a fraction of the time.

On that note, it’s generally best to shoot with both eyes open. It’s an odd concept for many shooters, but you’ll be able to see your target more clearly. It takes some practice and may be awkward at first, but you’ll be a more confident shot in the long run.

3. Focus on the goal, not the outcome

Wherever you’re shooting, try to forget about the circumstances. What I mean by this is don’t worry about anything but nailing your technique. I was recently listening to the Birdshot Podcast with hall-of-fame shooter Andy Duffy (check out the episode here) and he described this mentality perfectly. I’ll paraphrase.

Imagine these scenarios. A shooter has successfully hit 14 targets in a row but whiffs on the last target. Or, a hunter misses three pheasants in a row, starts commenting on it, and misses pheasants four and five as well.

This happens because they’re focused on the outcome, not the goal. The clay shooter is thinking, “I’m about to get a perfect score. Don’t screw this up.” The hunter is thinking, “I can’t miss the next bird because my buddies are going to give me hell for it.”

One of the best things you can do—whether things are going poorly or going well—is to erase the perfect record or ass-busting you’re going to get from your mind. Remember the components of a solid shotgun mount. Remember the principles listed here. As long as you follow the process, you will start or continue succeeding.

4. Look for details

Here’s another saying for you—“aim small, miss small.” If you’re using the shotgun as an extension of your body, that also includes your eye. It only makes sense that you’d want to focus on the target you want to hit when you’re pointing your shotgun. I don’t mean simply the bird, either. I’m talking about pointing the gun at very specific points—like an eye or beak, for example—and focusing all of your attention on it.

When an object is moving quickly, it’s hard to decide when to pull the trigger. It’s even more difficult when you’re focusing on a general area instead of a specific area. Even further, I think there’s a subconscious effect as well. When you pinpoint something exact, your entire body focuses even more tightly on that point and you’re less apt to be drawn away by objects in your periphery, like other birds, for example. Pick exactly where you’d like to shoot and point the gun at it.

5. Shoot for the situation

Admittedly, this last principle is a bit of a catch-all. I pointed out at the beginning that mastering the shotgun is a lifelong pursuit, and part of the reason for that is because the natural world is not predictable. As you get more experienced with a shotgun, you’ll learn how to adapt to the situation at-hand. I’ll run through a few examples.

• Man-made targets tend to slow down, which means you’ll need to lead the target less over time. Alternatively, birds and other game species tend to speed up, which means you’ll need to increase your lead.
• As for how much to lead the target, that’s something that comes with experience. Dove? A lot. Pheasants? Not so much. Ducks? Somewhere in between. As a rule, the faster an object is moving, the more lead you’ll need to give it.
• As you’re swinging your gun, remember to keep a smooth motion and swing through your target, instead of swinging to a stop or trying to guess where the pellets and your target will intersect. Match the target’s speed, swing through to the appropriate lead, and pull the trigger. If you find yourself shooting behind your target, try to actually miss in front of your target. Actually try. You’ll be surprised how often you’ll connect.
• For targets moving away from you or toward you, the same principle applies—you’ll need to shoot slightly above your target.
• Objects on the ground, like rabbits, seem to be moving faster than they actually are because there’s a direct reference (the ground). Even if you miss and see a puff of dirt behind the target, you’re probably missing in front, even though the opposite seems true. In this case, it's best to point right at your target.

This feels like a good spot to call it a day. It may seem like a lot of information, but the beauty of shooting a shotgun is that so much of it comes naturally with practice and experience. It shouldn’t feel difficult or awkward, at least eventually. The trick is to get started now, so you’re ready for the field when hunting season seems calling. That way you’ll be less “pray and spray” and a whole lot more “point and shoot.” Good luck.