Pronghorn antelope get a bad rap as table fare. I have a theory as to why. Somewhere along the way, their abundance, combined with their preference for wide-open country, spawned a hunting culture that, in some corners, accepted long range shooting as the norm. This in turn resulted in too many wounded critters putting in, Read More
Parents often tell me that having and raising kids really cemented their place in a community. They’d been disconnected from whole populations of neighbors, ignorant of critical institutions and uninvolved in many cultural rituals until the demands of parenthood thrust them into the fray. I think that might be overstating it a bit, and, Read More
Years ago I read an account of a contemporary deer hunt in Gray’s Sporting Journal in which the author, after making the kill, swore to the animal that he wouldn’t waste any part of her. “Not one ounce,” he wrote. I don’t remember much else about the story, but that piece has stuck with, Read More
Producing Stalking the Seam has afforded Steven and me some really cool opportunities, including the chance to put some spectacular optics through their real world paces. Last week we distilled those experiences into tactics for using binoculars more effectively, then the characteristics that separate passable specs from good ones, good ones from the great,, Read More
Traditionally a surrendering military officer hands over his sword or, in more recent times, sidearm. But when U-Boats were captured during World War II, victorious allied naval officers often demanded that German captains relinquish their binoculars instead. After long months of playing deadly games of cat and mouse, they recognized the German’s superior optics for, Read More
Humans are decidedly visual hunters. Sure, we’ve got four additional senses, and when we’re performing at our highest levels they all contribute. But relative to most other terrestrial mammalian predators, we are disproportionately reliant on sight to find and follow game. That fact is so fundamental that we often fail to (ahem) see it., Read More
Calf deep now in the cold river, Trent’s completed his prelude of silky false casts and is ready to start the show in earnest.
I am an unabashed, unapologetic Luddite. (And yes, I do recognize the irony of making that declaration via the internet). What’s true for my home life is doubly so for my days afield. When I head for the hills, I’m looking to unplug completely. The thought of the latest technological gewgaw hitching a ride, Read More
“There’s a pile of fish down there,” said Steven from the passenger seat, indicating the river below with a nod. “You’ve got that right,” I agreed, assuming he was just making conversation. We were, after all, crossing a Blue Ribbon stretch of the North Platte. Wyoming Game and Fish Department Assistant Fisheries Supervisor Mark, Read More
I’m not a very good fisherman. At least not by the standards of the company I keep. Numbered among my friends are more elegant casters, craftier fly tyers, smarter fly selectors, more intuitive water readers, and more graceful presenters than I ever dream of being. Heck, on any given day, those superior abilities are, Read More