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Not Today
Opening weekend. This is my place, goddamnit. My name may not be on the deed, it may even say “public” on the sign, but it’s mine nonetheless. I’ve purchased it with the coin of time and sweat and shoe...
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Thunder Chicken Chronicles
It starts in February, with being notified that you’ve been lucky enough to draw a spring turkey tag for our local, limited lottery. You know people who have put in for it for years and never gotten...
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Diversions
First, a disclaimer: I’m fully aware that whitewing doves aren’t considered “upland” in the classic sense. But here in our state of Hellfire Apocalypse Formerly Known as Texas, I am forced to write...
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Less than ideal
This is not the cover photo from a $9 upland hunting magazine. Red, high-brass 12 gauge hulls litter the ground, always three together – as in BANG, BANG, BANG. There are no Land Cruisers or Range...
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One more round
January wilts and the wind whips. It is cold and dry and barren as an old cow. No winter really, or no snow that is. Doug fir pops in the wood stove and piles of gear lie around the shop, … Continue...
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