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Two Mountains Offer Different Views
Sitting here in camp staring at these two peaks in Arapaho National Forest. In the last week the dogs and I have visited both. It seems somewhat surreal, not that there is anything particularly outrageous about either. They aren’t the tallest or most dangerous. But the scale is so incredibly different from this low vantage…
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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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Climbing for the Birds
Maurice and I punched through the ridge line at 10,500 feet mid-morning with Wyatt the black lab in tow. The massive boulder fields and talus slopes are tough terrain for a bird dog. We climbed over a small crease and arrived at a rare sight, a piece of flat ground extending 50 yards to the…
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Upland with Friends
It’s easy for me to get caught up in this solo pursuit. The rhythm of walking to the horizon with shotgun in hand appeals to my obsessive nature. Shut out the world and follow the dogs. Simple. Quiet. Rewarding. But decades ago I came to be a bird hunter because of friends sharing their experience…
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Way Upland Season II Episode 4
Alex and I have passed the 30 mile mark, BUT we’re slowly roasting on the Maah Daah Hey while the heat and dehydration adds up on bird dogs, too. How far can we make it on foot and fat bike before the wheels come off? Our water filters are clogged and no longer work. We…
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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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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…
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Unspoken Alliances
A number of years ago I was riding shotgun pre-dawn on opening day in Kansas. My buddy was behind the wheel as we chugged coffee fixating down the narrow tunnel of light cast on gravel. Most of the time upland hunters don’t have to contend with the early rise routine of other hunting disciplines. But…
