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
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
My son was so excited for the first day of hunting season, and the morning was such a blooper reel of false starts, forgotten gear and last minute errands, that I nearly failed to calibrate expectations. We’d left the highway, the state roads, and the graded gravel behind before I thought to check in, Read More
My uncle always said that elk were a staple and everything else was an appetizer. I guess we liked appetizers because as a kid we would always shoot a couple of whitetail does for the freezer. We had tons of them on our family ranch and they tasted delicious. Now, I have almost no access, Read More
Recently I was on the phone with my brother. He told me he had been reading the blog and enjoying it. Pleasantly surprised I asked if he had any feedback. He said something to the effect of “You know that living in New Jersey I don’t get to hunt and fish much these days,, Read More
The rainbow, who’s situation simply deprived him being able to go to the ocean, gave me his best in honor of his sea run brothers.
Wyoming contains 7 river basins and serves as the headwaters for 4 major river basins in the Western United States. These major river basins are the Missouri-Mississippi, Green-Colorado, Snake-Columbia, and Great Salt Lake. I feel fortunate to live in a state with such great water resources and consequently great fishing. I log a lot of, Read More
My big game hunting season is two and a half months long. For those keeping score at home, that’s ten weeks afield after pronghorn, elk and deer, and forty-two weeks not. It’s a lopsided ledger that we take for granted; a fact of life, as natural as the birds and bees. But what if, Read More
The submerged root-ball looked like a horror movie prop. Its deepest mysteries were hidden in shadow, but what reached the light was pure menace. Meaty shrouds of river gunk waved from grabby tentacles over crevices pregnant with evil possibility. No one yelled “don’t go in there!”, and they didn’t need to. I knew I wanted, Read More