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White-tailed Demons
Something is wrong with me. Any other sane bird hunter would have packed up and moved to the interior where the bird numbers and density are greater. But I’m entrenched in the Kenai and I can’t get away from it. I’ve shot a White-tailed Ptarmigan already. I’ve seen where they live. I know their confounding…
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Embrace the Hunting Curve
I kicked off this season hunting the entire month of September without ever pulling the trigger—for birds, not for big game, not for a once-in-a-lifetime tag draw. I never even came close. True, the Himalayan Snowcock might be the most challenging hunt in the country. This was my second attempt at those demons and I…
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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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Fleeting Moments with Evaporating Birds
Chukar Partridge have some nasty habits. They hang out in lofty spaces, the rockier and more rugged the better. Chukar are a non-native species introduced to North America from Pakistan between the turn of the century up until the 1970s. Wild populations established a foothold across the Great Basin where they now thrive. Many game…
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Preparing Birds for the Cooler
Most folks who watch hunting shows on TV or who are new to the sport may never see what happens to birds after they are brought to hand. Because we camp and travel most of the season, often in places where access to fresh water is limited, we like to clean birds in a way…
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On the Road Again
Driving endless hours. It’s the not-so-glamourous part of this upland hunting pursuit. Thankfully the days afield tend to erase the days of pavement. The two longest drives of the year are always the first and last of the season. The anticipation of getting underway and the dread of completion make the toughest slogs. The 4,200…
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The Quail Hunter’s Lost Code
There’s a small, back corner on a piece of public land in Kansas that my dad and I have hunted for 10 years. It’s a good walk, probably a mile and a half each way. We are always drawn to the corner because every year there is a covey of Bobwhite in this tiny, scrubby…
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Depths of Cold
There seems no bottom to the depths of cold. It’s one of the few solace for hunting in frigid condition: could be colder, windier, at least it’s not…more miserable. I’m assured by medical science that freezing does have a lower limit in terms of the human body. Paradoxical undressing: the point at which humans experiencing…
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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…
