If you’ve been following STS for awhile you have probably noticed that we like photography. We’ve been lucky to have some of the best in the business share their work and insights with us, see here, here, and here, but we haven’t talked much about our own photography. We’ve been fielding more questions about how, Read More
We’ve known each other for years. In the days when I spent more time with a belay device in my hand than a fly rod, we climbed together often. But geography and time pulled us apart. So I was thrilled when Toby called and said he wanted to come visit. It was an opportunity, Read More
Our eyes are at ground level as the sun creeps over the horizon. The sound of geese preparing to take flight permeates the morning air. Cold weather followed by a warm spell has led to near perfect conditions. This footage was taken during the weekend of The Two Shot Goose Hunt, a charity event, Read More
Clean white snow covered the faint two track. Nobody had been into the basin since the last storm. The truck pitched forward and we cautiously made our decent. Without talking my dad and I both had the same feeling in the pit of our stomach; a level of excitement for elk we hoped to, Read More
Darkness slowly begins to give way to light. Slight hues of grey yield to orange while the world is still and quiet. The hour before sunrise has become somewhat of a sacred time. For years I rarely noticed it. I either just plain missed it or during my childhood, when I would get up, Read More
On crossing paths with an acquaintance in the course of my work travels a few weeks ago, I met him with the standard Wyoming fall greeting. “How’s your season coming?” I asked “Streamer season?” he replied with a grin. “It’s going great thanks. I don’t really hunt much anymore though, if that’s what you, Read More
“Dada… um… did you shoot a elk yet?” I always get a little edgy as the big game season nears its close. Maybe it’s my hyperactive sense of responsibility reacting to an empty freezer. Maybe it’s the knowledge that I’ll soon be consigned to the audience of life’s great drama. In any case, having, Read More
At 60 power, it felt like the deer were in my lap, like the scope was transporting me across the ravine and into the herd.
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
“Matt!” called Steven in his best stage whisper. Grizz I wondered? No, he probably just needs the net. “Matt!” came his voice again, more urgent this time, but still softened to accomodate the sleeping toddler. He’d wake her for a bear I figured, and besides, he’s got the bear spray. “Busy here.” I whisper-yelled back with, Read More