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Finding Answers
Spike camp was two miles from base — as the raven flies not really that far in this expansive National Forest. But as flatlanders taking on the thin air of elevated places, two miles is a decent gap to begin separating yourself from those less prepared to depart known trails and the easy-breathing comfort of…
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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…
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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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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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The Last Bird: Living in the Upland Death Spiral
Most of the upland birds around here vanished during the Storm of the Century that dumped 30 inches of snow atop a base of frozen rain accompanied by -60° wind chill. Though game birds were on a downward trajectory long before that fateful day, the 43 years since have shown there’s little hope for any…
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The Lab Knows
Wyatt knows he’s black. He also knows this is the color of night. He’s been able to surmise that humans have terrible night vision. During daylight hours when we take breaks from hunting, he plots. He knows most mischief will not fly in the light of day. Raiding other camps, gnawing a nearby rotting deer…
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Way Upland Season II Episode 9
The bike is repaired and the heat breaks so we head back on trail to continue our trip across the North Dakota badlands. On this day we ride through Teddy Roosevelt’s old stomping grounds, Elkhorn Ranch. You can certainly see why he was so captivated by this place. It’s days like this that make the…
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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…
