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The Art of Posing with Dead Birds
Post-hunt photos can reveal a lot about a bird hunter. Now that everyone carries smartphones with cameras and are posting picts in real-time from the field, I thought it would be a great opportunity to give uplanders a few tips to appear more competent in front of the lens. First off you’ve shot the bird,…
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The Streak
Rio the setter is holding just below a lip of pitted volcanic stone a few paces up this 60 degree slope. We’ve climbed for over two hours to get to this point. The entire trek from the bottom the dogs have been trailing and repositioning. I can tell by Rio’s stature that she has trapped…
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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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Trusting the Dog in the North Woods
Rio is fresh off her first wild bird hunt in Nebraska. It seemed like a good opportunity to start over with an absolutely clean slate, discovering the North Woods together. The way I look at it the same thing that applies to hunters applies to the young Jornada Llewellin setter; get exposure to as many…
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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 Best Way to Turn Your Shotgun Into a Paperweight
Last fall my dogs and I traveled to Idaho to try our hand at chasing chukar. We joined a few friends early one morning along a river on public lands, set up our camp, and made ready for our first ascent. A friend and I trailed my two shorthairs up an extreme vertical chute. We…
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The Baseline Hike
Climbing mountains, the only way to really know how bad climbing mountains with heavy packs is gonna be. And getting the young Setter, Hawk, more familiar with the grind.
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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,…
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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…
