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The Acreage Trap
Bird Hunters May Find Far Less Huntable Ground This Fall On paper, it can look like a great year to hunt birds in the West. The maps are full of public access. Walk-in programs advertise hundreds of thousands — in some states, millions — of acres of private land open to hunters. CRP still covers…
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Life Lists
Jon and I have been here before—heavy legs and burning lungs. We’ve circled this peak, crossing boulder field after boulder field. It’s taken nearly four hours to complete the circuit around this 12,000-foot Uinta peak. I’m drained. Ida’s standard Lab trot has surrendered to a nearby amble. But then I see it—for most, it would…
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Rio Flufferbunny
It was fall when she came to us on a plane from New Mexico, all legs and ears and sharp puppy teeth. She pointed from the womb — butterflies, song birds, turtles, tufts of grass stirred by a breeze — nothing was safe from…
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Making Kansas Memories
Opening day in Kansas occupies a sacred place for me since this is the territory where my upland obsession really took hold years ago. The bulk of the state has a dismal bird forecast like much of the rest of the Midwest this year. There are some bright spots which have been deemed the north…
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Winging It
This upland season is fast approaching. The preparations of the past few seasons manifested in paper and piles. Maps stretched over more maps to cross-check terrain and access. Gear overflowing tables to neutral corners for ranking to make the pack or inevitable re-packs. The planning and gear goat rope is something to while away the…
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Rio’s First Hunt
It’s easy to forget what it’s like to bring a young dog to the field. And it is truly revealing just how dependent one can get on a trusted and trained dog. I could have brought Wyatt the four-year-old lab along on this little adventure. He’s got the game down. He knows all the moves,…
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3000 Miles for One Bird
The sun is dipping into the horizon and the thermometer reads 19° when the dogs and I return to the truck after hunting the final day of upland season in Kansas. A quick check of the fitness band reveals I’ve hiked over 12 miles in eight inches of new snowfall. The dogs never stopped hunting…
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Picking Up Right Where We Fell Apart
Bird seasons come and go. Most of the time I try to not think about the start and end dates because there’s always a half-year where we won’t be chasing birds. To focus on the beginning and end always seems like so much longing, instead of just embracing the moments afield that we actually get….
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Believers
I can feel him in the distance looking down on us. The Deacon of this mountain is unimpressed with our pace and route. Yet this goat still watches as one worn little setter leads us up a chute 1,500 feet below the pulpit he’s chosen. Every now and then I glance skyward to see…
