Keeping Things Wild

Keeping Things Wild

There are some who can live without wild things, and some who cannot . . . This is a story for those who cannot. In 1927 Crazy Ernie, Kid Al and my dad won a hunting shack in a poker game and lost their hearts to a swamp. In a remote northwoods clearing stood a...

Confessions of a Deer Processor

Confessions of a Deer Processor

Some of this may sting a little, but these tips could help improve the way you handle your harvests, the venison you put on the table and may even help improve relations with your favorite deer processor. Like most struggling writers, I have often been forced to seek...

Bones Among the Blazes

Bones Among the Blazes

Only 30 minutes into the first day of the season on a brisk December morning, I am at full draw on an old battle-scarred ram. A slight breeze coming up off the North Fork of the Big Thompson River is trying its best to cut through my layers and give me a chill. The...

Buffalo Soldiers

Buffalo Soldiers

I got my first good look at the mountain just before dawn on the second day of the trip. The morning was clear, and as the sky began to lighten, the mountain appeared and quickly dominated the skyline of the flat Masai steppes in northern Tanzania. I knew it was...

High Peril on Polychrome Mountain

High Peril on Polychrome Mountain

For two bone-chilling days, he pursued the rams unrelentingly, from dawn to dark, scaling precipitous cliffs, inching across narrow ledges and sliding down icy slopes. March 9. While climbing the mountains the past few days, I had been uncomfortable because of warmer...