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
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
Dad chose his words wisely, as dad’s are prone to doing: “Nope…it’s my job to carry the spotting scope” “I’ll hike and find someone who can jump our truck…why don’t you go ahead and hunt” “Here’s another scotch” This year I was lucky and drew one of the most coveted Wyoming deer tags. My, Read More
Upon discovering my hunting pack, loaded and stashed for the morning, my 3 year old ignored the knife, the saw, the lighter, the rope, the Snickers, the Fritos, the laser range finder, the flagging tape, the camelback, the .30-06 cartridges and other tempting tools of mess and mayhem. He went instead, straight for, Read More
Over the years I’ve done a handful of european mounts myself. It’s always tedious and doesn’t turn out as well as it would if done by a professional. But I like the process and often don’t want to throw down the money to have a taxidermist do the job. This year I had decent, Read More
“Ok” challenged my brother “Where are you going with this?” A few days, and more than a few rum and tonics into vacation, our evening card game had morphed into a heated discussion of such light fare as original sin, man’s inhumanity to man, and our collective ability to affect positive change. I’d made, Read More
Quarterly I receive a shipment of beer from my father-in-law. This has been going on for nearly ten years. It started with a house warming present meant for his daughter. A care package that, along with some other goodies, included a couple bottles of beer. I drank the beer and sent a thank you, Read More
If I’d had a pipe and an Irish setter, we could have been in a Norman Rockwell painting. Puffy white clouds floated in a bluebird sky above vibrant green sage and the rolling red-dirt prairie. A man, at ease with the world and confident in his forthcoming conquest, strides forth, a shotgun cradled across, 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