The pack that hangs in my garage could be mistaken for a living thing. At first glance it’s just luggage stuffed with an assortment of other inanimate objects. A close observer though will notice that it’s constantly adapting to the demands of the season. Layers disappear and reappear with shifts in the weather., Read More
Sweat was beading on my brow. I was gasping for breath. Running up hill, I needed my iPhone. Fifty yards away I had the spotting scope set up. Binos were around my neck, so was the camera. A few hundred yards below were 300-400 head of elk. Cows and calves were mewing, the herd, Read More
Grouse season is still two weeks away. But there’s no telling her that this is a dress rehearsal. “Scrimmage” doesn’t compute. I make room for gradients, progressions and half-measures, but she lives in a world of absolutes. There either are feathers, or there are not. And there happen to be some feathers very nearby., Read More
This summer our dogs have been neglected. It’s a crazy time for our family. My wife and I both travel a fair bit for work. Family comes to visit. We try to get into the mountains as much as possible. The dogs have been deprioritized. As pups, I would spend an hour a day all, 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
Kids are born hunters. “Can I go catch a grasshopper?” asks my son at dawn. “Sure” we tell him, and off he goes through the dog-door, clad in cape and undies, to creep around the dewy lawn with his jar. The jar rarely comes home empty. “You have to be quiet.” he tells me, Read More
As a younger man I watched the western flank of the Wind River Range rise above me as I pulled into a small ranch outside of Boulder, Wyoming. It was 2003 and my Subaru Impreza was full of camping gear and a saddles. I’d skipped out on college graduation to take a job horse packing in, 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
“Did you use my gun?” “No grandpa…unfortunately not.” “Oh…still sounds like one heck of a story.” I wanted the conversation to be different. For the last few years I attempted to shoot an elk with a 300 Winchester Magnum, given to me by my grandfather. I wanted to call him and tell him the story, Read More
This is the heart of fantasy season; the time of year when I stay up late, alone in my dusky office, and once the house is still, spread before me a lurid collection of sportrotica. I like it graphic.