On the night before my son Jaren’s 18th birthday, I went online to buy him a fishing license. But I wondered if I would regret it. How annoyed would I be if he only used it once? Or more honestly, how disappointed? Worst case, I’d be...
Just south of McCall, Idaho, at what’s known as the McCall Activity Barn, my family and I stepped into our cross-country skis and glided into a gray ocean of fog. Our 12-year-old son Anders took the lead, keeping his skis in the tracks so he...
IF YOU LIKE A CHALLENGE, TRY TO SPOT AND STALK THE ANIMAL WITH THE FASTEST HOOVES ON EARTH There are easier ways to kill a pronghorn antelope. The spot-and-stalk approach forces hunters to sneak up on the animals, mano a mano, typically in wide-open country, pitted against...
It’s hard to get people fired up about chunks of ice, but that’s what scientists and officials in Glacier National Park are trying to do as the park’s namesake glaciers melt away. They face a tougher sell than folks who can broadcast, say, images of...
Finding solace in a secret fly-fishing spot Dust hangs over the forest road, settling visibly on a dark SUV parked halfway up the mountain. A guy wearing a bleached-out Michigan T-shirt stands by the vehicle’s cargo compartment strapping on a waist pack. He glances over his...
When the going gets tough, the tough get fishing ‘Twas the week before Christmas, and plenty of creatures were stirring in Paradise Valley south of Livingston, Montana, despite the cold and snow. Her face framed by a corona of frost, a whitetail doe eyed us warily...
You don’t have to be crazy to hunt mountain goats, but being so doesn’t hurt your chances for success. Think about it: Goats spend most of their lives above 9,000 feet in elevation, often clinging to precipitous habitat, meaning sheer rock walls and outcrops. Hunters who...
Like most family photo albums, mine contains pictures of me as a child sitting next to roadkill. Now, before you dismiss this as just another small-boy-hangs-out-with-dead-animals-found-on-random-roadsides piece of nostalgia, let me boast about one particular photo, in which 4-year-old me, uncertainly holding a banana, is...
As we took what our map told us was the final turn, the gravel road became rutted dirt that would turn to impassable gumbo if the clouds gathering in the western sky produced any rain. We hadn’t seen a ranch house for miles. I reminded...
I used to fish the Blackfoot Indian Reservation and its array of prairie lakes every spring, just as the ice came off the surface of those waters and wads of giant rainbows cruised their shorelines. This was a targeted hunt for one giant fish — something...