Wool Longhunter Shirts / Hoods / Belts

There's no doubt when it comes to clothing for hunting, there's nothing more traditional or warmer than wool. I've been a big fan of wool for over 30 years, especially in cold wet weather.

In the early 1970's I was on a black powder hunt for elk in Montana. We were tent camping in the mountains and got caught in an early snow storm. My partner who was hunting in jeans and a light jacket was wet and cold most of the time. I had wool pants and shirts and stayed warm and dry. That experience taught me an important lesson on the benefit of wool and I've never been on a hunt without my wool since that time.

The Longhunter shirts are made in the traditional long pullover style. The length of this shirt will keep you warmer than a shorter version because it covers more of your body. It can be worn loosely or with a belt or sash. The belt is handy for carrying your knife, hawk and belt pouch.

The Gray and Tamarack shirts are made from heavy weight blanket wool.

"Recommended cleaning is HAND wash in cold water and hang dry, or dry clean. DO NOT put a shirt in the washer or dryer."


Hoods. Gray, Green...$42.95

Shipping on all shirts $12.00


FOR MORE WOOL PRICING SEE   ORDER PAGE

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Long Hunter

GREY LONGHUNTER WOOL SHIRT
Size
Tamarack

TAMARACK GREEN WOOL SHIRT
Size






Sherwood
Not shown: Hand Warmer Pockets

size (blanket weight)

SHADES OF SHERWOOD


As I walked down through the green depths of Sherwood

as I walked down through fair Sherwood one day

I met a young bowman all dressed in green Lincoln

all dressed in green Lincoln and singing so gay



"brace the bow oh so tight, it has to be just right

then place the cloth yard against it's side

A strong arm to draw it then gently release it

and true it's the mark the arrow will fly"



I ask the young bowman from whence he had come there

he said, "I'm an outlaw, in hiding am I

The grass is my bed and the leaves are my pillow,

my walls are the trees and my roof is the sky"



"I shot an arrow at yonder Stag there

the keen edged broadhead pierced clear through his side

he ran to the forest where he sought safety

he fell to the ground, and there he died"



"Three blast from my horn brought my men from the greenwood

we carried the Stag to our camp in the glen

we roasted and toasted, of long shots we boasted

no better companions than my Merry Men"



His song slowly faded away in the forest,

was he ever really here at all?

listen...so faintly, the sound of a horn there

would it be...could it be, Robin Hoods call?