Personal responsibility doesn’t develop in a vacuum, and given a choice between my boy spending the day in cyberspace or in the sage… well, that’s a no brainer.
The birds aren’t flying, but something unavoidable, concrete and ineffable has been set in motion. Even a six-year-old feels it.
At some point I realized I was buying a dog and should probably let the breeder know. He probably already knew. He took it well.
“You got a beer?” Grady asked quizzically as he nibbled a fry. I nodded, taking a sip of a cold Rainier. “I didn’t know they had beer here,” he responded, genuinely surprised. The flicker of a neon Miller Lite sign illuminated our table. Three truckers sat at the bar. One had just picked up a load, Read More
There are easier ways to fill the freezer. Cheaper ways too.
We glassed the treelines, scrutinized the shrubbery and examined every dip and swell of the park, but as the last of the comfortable shooting light dissolved, the lone grazing cow remained, improbably, a party of one.
A semi truck arrives each Friday and unloads 70,000 rounds of ammunition. Fiocchi has a plant in Argentina. Maers & Goldman has an exclusive agreement with Fiocchi to purchase every 20 gauge shell produced in country. That adds up to nearly 4 million rounds per year.
There are no more decisions, only knowledge. You know that there is no shot, then, just as certainly, that there is, and that you are taking it.
Sitting atop a cliff-band, the elk had run straight at him. He practically had to shoot out of self defense. Once hit, the bull fell over the cliff ledge. A grizzly fed on the gut pile overnight but with the help of friends the meat was all packed out the following day.
I grew up with the gun knowing that it would always shoot where I pointed it, for better or for worse, so I should make sure I was pointing it where I needed it to shoot.