Life After Death

Poetic justice, I thought — that on the same mountain where I'd shot that bull in the heart before, I got hit in the heart. About mid-morning on a Montana mountainside the guide heard “Cody, just a minute.” He turned to see the hunter lean forward, then fall straight...

The Good Life

Crisp, clear air and cold water are the sources of life. It is a life implemented with guns and flyrods, populated by beautiful birds and dogs and fish stippled with rose-moles bright as neon. It is a life of vast grassy space where dogs can run to their heart's...