“Dada, is this one pokey?” “Yep.” “Um… cause it’s got a hook on it?” “They all have hooks son. Careful.” “Ok, I will. But then… if I get poked a little… then um… then I’ll just be brave. Ok Dada?” The next day would bring the year’s first fishing trip and we had some, Read More
“Dada, Dada I called the pheasant!” came the voice from the yard. I can’t call anything. To a passing flock of mallards, I’m as persuasive as a hitchhiker with a chainsaw. The most effective thing I can do with an elk bugle is leave it in the truck. I have my strengths, but imitating, Read More
Tears streaming down her face, I agreed to head back to the car and and hang out for the last 20 minutes of shooting. The sound, and even the thought, of shotgun blasts had her terrified. We had never had this problem before and the two younger kids were unfazed, simply wanting to shoot, Read More
“We don’t eat the feathers, cause see that would be silly, right Dada?” “Right.” “Yeah, cause we only eat the meat, and feathers aren’t meat and… and… um… cause see the meat’s on the inside!” The duck we were plucking had only hung for a couple days. I’d planned on waiting longer to breast, Read More
“Dada… um… what… um… what are we going to doooo today?” It was a good question. We’d been batching it for a few days and the seams were starting to show. Three consecutive days of no mom, no nap, and long hours hunting in the elements had combined with the post-Christmas hangover to produce, 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
Raising my gun at the sound of wing beats, I hoped for a wild rooster to flush from the under brush. Nothing materialized. Moments later my precocious pup came out of the brush with a hen that was a little too slow getting off the ground. It was Christmas Eve 2008 and I was, Read More
I’ll admit, I struggle to take my kids hunting with me as much as I would like. It’s logistically challenging and not all situations are well suited for children under the age of five. Winter is tough and so is anything that involves a lot of hiking or long days. In the absence of, Read More
Pop, pop, pop. “Dada, what’s that noise?” asked Everett, excited. “That would be hunters shooting at birds.“ I explained. “Why don’t you shoot at birds?” he whined. “We have to find them first son. But we’re trying” I answered, the picture of paternal patience. We were hunting pheasants near home with a few stolen, 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