I didn’t grow up reading spec sheets and comparing reticle subtensions. I grew up carrying my dad’s old Remington 700 through the hardwoods of western Pennsylvania, squinting through a scratched-up Tasco.
By the time I was 18, I’d taken my first whitetail, blown a shot on a pronghorn.
I started asking the questions :
Why do some scopes fog up the moment the temperature drops? Why does a $200 scope track better than that $600 one my buddy swears by? What matters when you’re shooting at first light in November?
I’ve been chasing those answers for over two decades now.
- 20+ years of active hunting across 14 states and 2 Canadian provinces
- 150+ riflescopes personally tested, mounted, zeroed, and field-used
- Competed in PRS-style matches at the club level (I’m decent, not sponsored, there’s a difference)
- Completed multiple long-range shooting courses, including a precision rifle course at FTW Ranch in Texas
- Held an FFL for 6 years while running a small gunsmithing side business out of my shop
- Regular contributor to several online firearms and hunting communities since the early forum days
Every scope I write about goes on a rifle. I zero it. I run the turrets through their travel and back. I check tracking with a tall target test when I can. I take it into the field or to the range in conditions that matter: dawn, dusk, rain, and single-digit cold. Then I sit down and write about what I found.
I don’t do unboxing videos. I don’t write reviews after looking through a scope for ten minutes at a trade show. If I haven’t spent meaningful time behind a scope, I won’t tell you what I think of it. Simple as that.
I also buy most of the scopes I review with my own money, but when a manufacturer sends me a unit, I’ll let you know.
I live outside Sheridan, Wyoming, with my wife Sarah, our daughter Emma (already shoots a .22), and our son Caleb (more interested in fishing — I’m working on it).
Our black Lab, Remington, comes on every hunt he’s allowed on and a few he’s not.
When I’m not writing reviews or handloading in the shop, I’m probably sitting in a treestand way too early, drinking bad thermos coffee, and convincing myself that today’s the day.