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Perspective from the Road
The alarm starts chiming, but it feels like I just laid my head down only minutes ago. It can’t be daybreak yet. I must have set the alarm incorrectly. I pick up the phone to turn off the now blaring Alice in Chains’ “Rooster” and the clock reads 5:15am. Ugh. The bird hunters’ alarm doesn’t…
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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…
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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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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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Make Bird Hunting an Adventure
A lot of bird hunters have gotten in a rut and don’t even realize it. They hunt the same places for the same birds with the same dogs week after week, season over season. Though there’s nothing wrong with this, I think it slowly saps some of the charge out of the upland pursuit. Anything…
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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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South Dakota’s Ringed Circus (part 1)
It may not be the greatest show on Earth, but for those in pursuit of the Chinese Rooster it’s not far from it. I rolled into the Black Hills of western Dakota a week before the trumpeted pheasant opener in order to get some spring back in the legs and give Wyatt, my black lab…
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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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Climbing Mountains for Elusive Birds
The wind is gusting at my back collapsing my empty game bag. It’s a chilly reminder, as if I needed one. In the distance I can still pickup Steve and the deft setter Winchester, navigating their way uphill beside the creek that tumbles the opposite direction in this cut. We’ve got them on elevation. The…
