Great-Grandfather’s Leather Folder, Recipe No. 1: Squirrel Stew
A few winters ago I was cleaning out my grandmother’s attic — the kind of job you put off for years because you know…
Read the storyA few winters ago I was cleaning out my grandmother’s attic — the kind of job you put off for years because you know…
Read the storyI don’t know how long I fought that fish. Fifteen minutes, maybe twenty. Long enough…
I killed my first deer on public land in western Nebraska, 45 minutes before sunset,…
Your summer buck vanished from trail cameras right before opening day. The deer probably did not leave. Your camera simply…
I own four sets of camouflage. Sitka for late season. Kuiu for early. Some Realtree pants I bought on clearance…
The day I lost my duck blind, I was standing in a parking lot holding a cup of gas station…
I shot my bow 147 times a week for four months. I counted. I had a range set up behind…
I watched four YouTube videos the night before my first solo field dressing. Four. I sat on the couch with…
My buddy Dave has this thing where he describes terrible ideas like they’re facts. “We’re gonna fly into the Adirondacks,”…
I’ve been shooting rifles since I was twelve. I know how to find deer, how to read sign, how to…
Some bucks stop being deer. They become neighbors, ghosts, characters with names — and when they disappear, they leave a…
I shot my first deer with a rifle when I was twenty-two. Nothing special — a spike buck at about…