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

A day to relax and log some couch time sounded appealing. Fresh off a river trip, we were visiting my folks and they had taken the kids out for the day. I was tired and it would be a treat to have my parents house to myself for a few hours. Then the phone rang. A buddy, Read More

Toeing the dirt reality set in. No one else was around. The ranch was deserted. For a thirteen year old with a short attention span that spelled trouble. A whitetail doe tag was burning a hole in my pocket and I had hunting on my mind. Four and a half miles of dirt, and a nonexistent driver’s, Read More

A picture of a young man hangs in my workspace. Four young men actually, but there’s one in particular looking directly into the camera and, as the frame’s orientation would have it, over my shoulder while I write. I knew this man to be, among many other things, a natural storyteller, so it’s a, Read More

Two thousand miles of heartland are between us. I’ve always been bad at staying in touch, the same isn’t true of my brother. Eleven weeks ago, the playing field was leveled when I became an uncle. Within the first ten weeks my brother has gone solo for several days with the little guy, been on a road trip, Read More

Dear Winter, It’s true, 20 below keeps the riffraff away. So let me begin with a heartfelt thank you. You’ve been generous. At the risk of sounding ungrateful though… it is quite cold. The dog comes back whining after a pee cold. The kid gets a Slurpee headache walking to the truck cold. Maybe,, Read More

Separated by a thousand miles, we head to church with the rest of our family. While my mother peers into the casket, we drop the boat into the river on a sunny January day. Water drips off the oars after every stroke. Tears of sadness and joy stain the faces of those in attendance., Read More

Someone once described my brother Ryan as a combination of Greg Brady and Davy Crockett. An odd pairing, yes, but in some ways it made a lot of sense. At age 12, Ryan was on the Pro Staff for Matthews bows and one of the best under-18 archers in the country. As a chubby-cheeked, Read More

When I was 9 years old, my family moved from Williamsburg, Virginia to Salt Lake City, Utah. This would upend my world in more ways than I then understood – rural to urban, southern to western, near kin to distant. But on saying goodbye to my friends, and the best neighborhood I would ever, Read More

Balance. Lift. Swing. Extend. Accelerate. Thwack. Repeat. The bounty of autumn is a backhanded blessing. There’s so much to do… but there’s so much to do.  And winter is coming. The satisfying soreness that follows a day in the hills after elk, deer, antelope or chukar; the easy fit of old waders as water, Read More