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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 Tailgate Obsession
Bird hunters seem to have an unhealthy fixation with placing birds on tailgates, bumpers, and hoods for photos. I honestly don’t get it. Upland hunters are blessed to pursue game in some of the most scenic places known to man: mountains, prairies, marshes, desert — the wildest of places. We hunt with dogs that are…
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End of Season Omens
Rio the setter suddenly hits the brakes, sliding to a stop on a steep grade beside an old logging road being reclaimed by the forest. We’ve spent a couple days wandering the hills of West Virginia searching for late-season Ruffed Grouse with no luck. I can tell by her stance, even on this awkward angle,…
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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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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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The Dreaded Shooting Bag
I think the level of exertion at sporting clays courses should extend beyond the trigger finger. The name “sporting clays” implies a certain level of physical activity. But, a number of courses have paths for vehicles and even golf carts for transporting shooters and their gear from one station to the next. Distances between each…
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Making it Count
When I hunt alone, which is often the case, there’s a certain ritual to leaving the truck. It’s become habit without much thought anymore. This invisible checklist guards against hiking miles from the truck and realizing I’m without shells, water, remotes or worse. It’s this same reason everything has an assigned place in the truck,…
