There is a small creek nearby that I often fish in the summertime. It isn’t anything special as creeks go, but something about it has always resonated with me. Maybe it’s the way the willows screen the water enough to dapple the sunlight just so. Or perhaps it’s that particularly eerie quality the old-growth Lodgepole pines...
It is mid-day in January and trout are rising on the Niangua. Wool shod, from top to bottom, I make the fifteen minute drive to frigid seclusion at the top of the Ozark range. As I pull in, the mist sags above the flow. The white oak trunks are black against the snowy hillsides. While glancing expectantly,...
If you hunt or fish the same places enough times, over the course of enough years, a script evolves. You go HERE. You do THIS. The animals do THAT. There’s nothing wrong with this script, and our knowledge of it gives us some success in the field. But our confidence can betray us – to...
Dust sticks to my sweat. Rocks and branches cut through my fragile skin. The cleanliness of my contrived, pampered existence has long since worn off, replaced by a haggard remnant of my former glory. The traverse has proven to be a far more substantial undertaking than I was anticipating. My water ran out long ago,...
Continued from Wild Zimbabwe Part 1 Day 8 This morning found us driving straight over to the local chief’s house. Evidently, tradition holds that the hunter is to present the chief with the trunk of all harvested elephant. This was a strange experience. Though I appreciated the tradition behind this, it rubbed me the wrong...
Life is short. Life is unpredictable. It was with this attitude that my Dad booked he and I on one of those bucket list type hunts. We were going to Zimbabwe, and I was going to hunt some of the most dangerous game on the planet. On this safari, I would primarily be hunting Elephant,...
I’m sitting in my kayak under one of only two bridges in Isle Royale National Park. The water is shallow, clear, and lined by variegated and brightly colored stones. No one knows where I am, I am all alone and supremely happy. Through this narrow inlet that leads to the vast expanse of Lake Superior...
Admit it. It’s funny to hear east coasters talk about “wilderness.” I live along the I-95 corridor, and while we have some amazing fishing and hunting, and some fairly wild places, wilderness it ain’t. The Mid-Atlantic, in particular, is a region where getting to wilderness is better defined by the number of small-ish states you...
Africa. To some it is fantasy. To others it is a fulfillment of the quest that only the untamed spirit aspires. The Dark Continent holds more than its share of adventure for those that dare the teeth, claws, thorns, and venom to experience the richness of its resources. Many find satisfaction in the pursuit of...
As bowhunters, I believe that we all have dreamt about crawling through open sage country toward a herd of one of America’s most unique animals, the Plains Bison. After years of diligently playing the application game, I was fortunate enough to draw a wild bison tag in my home state of Arizona. This tag has...
I am a nobody. I don’t look at myself in fly fishing’s mirror and say, “I’m One Bug Is Fake!” Speaking in terms of writing ability, my outlook is similar. Not that I would have a chance expand my ego, Mistress Analytics reminds me constantly that my daily readership is paltry, at best. If someone...
I walk with tottering steps up the forest-lined trail. Chubby cheeks. Chubby legs. My mother, following patiently alongside, takes my small hand in hers and guides me through the maze of roots and rocks. Dew slides across my small face as I push past thickets of thimble berries and, higher up, huckleberries, both still unwilling...
