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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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Escape Velocity
I’ve been feeling uneasy. It’s been this way, more or less, for over a year. I went into last upland season feeling rushed and underprepared. It didn’t really pan out that way; things went fine. But in my head I always felt a half-click off. I’ve been battling, trying to get through it, pin point…
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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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The Hunters’ Predicament
A couple of years ago I found myself hunting late season public lands in West Virginia. Having never hunted here before I took to talking to every resident I encountered, inquiring of bird numbers, conditions and terrain. This area is a fairly well-known stronghold for hunters and anglers, so it was shocking when I brought…
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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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The Fountain of Youth
The old boy doesn’t leap into the truck like he once could, but he still manages to lurch up the running boards and cross the center console. Instead of stowing him in the back for this road trip, I break the rules and let him ride shotgun. He acknowledges the exemption and quickly curls into…
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Inroads
We’ve been coming to this area of the grain belt for over 20 years. It took the locals at least seven of those to warm beyond a passing nod or the requisite finger waive to oncoming trucks. We now know many by name though most likely still recognize us only as familiar faces. Every year…
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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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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…
