Watch the video and wait for the “Pop”.
“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 a ton of great hunting dog breeds out there but most of us settle on one or two. From that point on we espouse the virtues of our particular breed with little regard for logic. Heck, I had a person recently spend thirty minutes explaining to me why Border Collie’s are the best bird dog period.
Her head and neck were covered in feces. The color and consistency led me to believe it was human. In a panic I made several wild motions complimented with a few guttural utterances that let the dog know I didn’t want her anywhere near me or the truck.
Bucking in circles like a rodeo bull, her enthusiasm belied her age. I was scrambling around the cold garage looking for duck hunting gear that hasn’t been used much lately. The temps started to drop, from a high of 20 F, as soon as the sun dipped below the mountains. Waterfowl was our game when, Read More
She must have heard me talking about a new puppy. Or maybe it was just her day. In any case, the old lady was in rare form, even by her high standards. Our hunt started conventionally enough, but by mid morning it was clear she meant business. Her nose led us from covey to covey. The gentle breeze and fresh snow, Read More
My lungs were about to explode, which masked the burning in my quads. The terrain was unforgiving. So were the birds. We had been in birds all day, but it was the end of the season and they were onto us. Only minutes prior I had managed to scratch down my first chukar of the, Read More
So here’s the premise. Matt and I go fishing, with each of our sons. My wife and daughter are at some type of ladies event and Matt just wants to get out. For the record, Matt’s son is 3 and mine is 2. Our kids are intermittently walking, playing with various found implements of, Read More
A blood red sun is about to dip below the horizon. Dogs are in their kennels, collars off. We head down the dirt road, about to put a great trip in the rearview mirror. It takes a couple of minutes but I notice my old man, riding shotgun, still has his vest on and, Read More
My heart sank. Three shots, three hit birds, none in the bag. It’s called hunting for a reason. Do it long enough and things don’t always go right. Good dogs, responsible shooting, and practice mitigate lost or crippled birds. Normally, in a given season I might lose a couple, but this was entirely new, Read More