Cat’s Eyes

Cat’s Eyes

I have often searched the wilderness for something that is right under my nose. On this particular day I had just returned from a grueling backpack hunt deep in Colorado’s South San Juan Wilderness. Elkless again. As a field biologist working the area, I had seen...

Buffalo on the Choctaw!

Buffalo on the Choctaw!

“Got a question!” said Jim Bequette shortly after we had finished recording an episode for my weekly DSC’s Campfires with Larry Weishuhn podcast. My first thought was: “No, Jim I’m not going to sell you another one of my favorite rifles!” A year earlier I had sold him...

Ghost Ram

Ghost Ram

Wild sheep. No hunting adventure strikes deeper into your soul than stalking wild rams – those majestic monarchs who rule fortresses of stone and ice in some of the most stunning and unforgiving terrain on earth. Blocky shouldered, square-chested and crowned with...

Eastern Panther – Myth, Ghost, Legend

Eastern Panther – Myth, Ghost, Legend

The Lowcountry panther entered my dreams and my life. Haunting me when I slept, quickening my pulse and step when I was alone in the swamps come sundown. Daytimes, the Old Man looked off into middle distance. Nights, he gazed deep into campfire flames. He held us...

Borealis

Borealis

It’s a fairly young river as fair rivers go, born in the mountains of far western Alaska before making its raucous way down from the heights and out across the tundra on its broad braided ramble to the sea. I have never seen its mother lake Kagati, but I know the...

Hunting Camp

Hunting Camp

Growing up in rural Texas, in the gravel hills near Cummins Creek just above the Gulf Coast Prairie, hunting, fishing and camping played an important role in my early life. My first real “camp” was my Dad’s enclosed dog trailer, wood walls with a tin roof, all of...

A Battle for Survival

A Battle for Survival

Precariously perched in the small tree, the hunter peered into the night, his eyes slowly adjusting to the eerie light cast by the moon. The year was 1903; the place: Sabi Sands, South Africa.  Harry Wolhuter was shaking from a combination of cold and fear. What was...

Hunting with Dad

Hunting with Dad

It was 2 o’clock on the afternoon of January 20, 1978, when the agent with the steamship company called my Seattle house to tell me that Jack O’Connor – my mentor, hunting partner and best friend – had just died of an apparent heart attack on the S.S. Mariposa en...