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The Hunting Singularity
The Singularity is a hypothetical future point where self-aware machines run improvement cycles resulting in super-intelligence that is uncontrollable. Basically, humans create machines that make human ideas and intelligence obsolete and irrelevant. In ways it sounds like a far off time somewhere in outer space. But dig into interviews with some of today’s tech gurus…
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Making Kansas Memories
Opening day in Kansas occupies a sacred place for me since this is the territory where my upland obsession really took hold years ago. The bulk of the state has a dismal bird forecast like much of the rest of the Midwest this year. There are some bright spots which have been deemed the north…
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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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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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To the Edge with Friends and Dogs
We all have limits. But that edge is never static. It’s a river that rages perilously close or meanders docile and aimless in the distance. Most people are perfectly comfortable keeping a healthy distance—there is absolutely nothing wrong with that. But there is something about that torrent that is captivating and revealing. What we see…
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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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Way Upland
It’s the second day of the upland season and I am in a pre-dawn traffic jam. I’m following a string of crimson taillights up a dusty grade and poor excuse for a road. I’m unsure exactly how long the line extends at this point, but we are all crawling toward a pin on a map…
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End of Season Omens
Rio the setter suddenly hits the brakes, sliding to a stop on a steep grade beside an old logging road being reclaimed by the forest. We’ve spent a couple days wandering the hills of West Virginia searching for late-season Ruffed Grouse with no luck. I can tell by her stance, even on this awkward angle,…
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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…
