• 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…

  • 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…

  • Rio Afield

    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…