I knew dawn, when it finally broke, would be anemic and gray – little help in driving the cold from the house. Too bad, I thought. I needed all the help I could get. The sun hadn’t cleared the mountain yet, but already I was behind: behind on the errands, the house chores, the, Read More
To say he wanted to hunt badly would be an understatement. I wasn’t sure we were going to make it a reality. Until we did. Despite his enthusiasm he conked out in the backseat as we headed down progressively smaller roads, for an evening deer hunt. We pulled up to the ranch and began glassing. Ignoring, 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
Kindergarteners are loud. “Hey, Dad, hey! Look it, a prickly pear cactus!” They’re slow. “Can we take another candy break? Pleeeeease!” And they’re poorly suited to the brush. “Um, Dada… animals live in habitat, and that’s not habitat. That’s a pricker bush.” These aren’t qualities that’ll help you find game birds. But it’s not, 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
The submerged root-ball looked like a horror movie prop. Its deepest mysteries were hidden in shadow, but what reached the light was pure menace. Meaty shrouds of river gunk waved from grabby tentacles over crevices pregnant with evil possibility. No one yelled “don’t go in there!”, and they didn’t need to. I knew I wanted, Read More
In the three years since I became a father, I’ve had to redefine some terms. “Sleeping in” does not mean what it used to for example, nor “big night out” for that matter. “Free time”… I seem to recall using that phrase as a younger man, but the concept is fuzzy now. Most of, Read More
“Dada, can I um… can I go over to Al and Anne’s house… pleeease Dada?” asked my five year old. Al and Anne are our next-door neighbors. My son visits most days, but he’d missed them the day before. They’d been in the mountains, scouting for elk. They’re 81 and 75 years old, respectively., Read More
The house is spotless. We’ve hardly been home. The pickup is a disaster, so is the boat bag. Clothes shoved into the corners, smelling of bug spray. Plastic bags, food wrappers, and empty soda bottles litter the floor mats. The girls went back East to visit family and my son and I are flying, Read More
“Hump had taken a helluva beating, but the kids kept calling for more fish. I tried to talk him out of it. ‘Just look at yourself’, I said. ‘Get back in the box… you’re through, you’ve done enough’. But there was no talking to him.” – Specialist Adams, Parachute Squadron “Did Copeland ask too much, Read More