Seven or eight miles of heavy brush brought us to the last forty-five minutes of daylight, and a fork in the trail. A warm truck and cold beer waited down the right-hand path. Straight ahead lay more half-frozen river, drifted snow and one last crease of thorny cover. The reassuring bulk of roosters cradled against, Read More

“Look Dada a clue, a clue!” Live water is an hour away this time of year, and viable bird hunting is nearly as committing. With only a two hour window to spare, Everett and I had opted instead to creep around the sage and look for small game. Maybe the dog would kick up, Read More

It’s Black Friday, the national holiday of acquisition and consumption. I bet attendees of the original Thanksgiving set about finding and collecting assorted provisions after their feast too. It was called hunting back then. Team STS may find time for some old-school shopping this afternoon, but first we need to finish counting our blessings., Read More

“Sit.” Math isn’t you strong suit huh? “Stay.” Need to check your watch? “I want to get a picture real quick.” We’re a bird shy of our limit. “No!” And we’ve still got an hour of shooting light left. “SIT!” Take all the pictures you want. I’m going to find more birds. “Alright. Alright., Read More

“I told you so.” “Yeah, but you’re just a puppy. I thought…” “I was sniffing a lot… hard.” “Right, I saw but…” “Chopping with my tail” “I…” “Chop, chop, chop. That’s what I did. I did that.” “Got it, but…” “And tight circles. I did those too. Lots of ‘em. I worked it over,, Read More

The best teams all have one, the guy who finds a different gear on game day. Sure, he goes hard in practice too, but when things get real, he’s just a different animal. We’re not talking about ‘apples and oranges’. You might as well compare pineapples and hand-grenades. He’s a gamer. It’s fundamental, not, Read More

Quivering uncontrollably, he lets out a barely audible, yet pathetic, squeal. Remaining steady by a whisker, I heave the bumper into the high mountain lake. Like a shot from a cannon, he releases on his name and begins churning water. We are long overdue. The dogs are perhaps as fit as I can remember for, Read More

Grouse season is still two weeks away. But there’s no telling her that this is a dress rehearsal. “Scrimmage” doesn’t compute. I make room for gradients, progressions and half-measures, but she lives in a world of absolutes. There either are feathers, or there are not. And there happen to be some feathers very nearby., Read More

 This summer our dogs have been neglected. It’s a crazy time for our family. My wife and I both travel a fair bit for work. Family comes to visit. We try to get into the mountains as much as possible. The dogs have been deprioritized. As pups, I would spend an hour a day all, Read More

“Dada, can I say it? I wanna say it! Please Dada!” pled my five year old. To my left the dog sat rigid as a stump, staring at the distant spot where the lake swallowed her bumper. She was taut as a bowstring, but only the slightest tremble betrayed her growing impatience. On my, Read More