A story written thousands of times. Sometimes for the reader, often for the writer. Every hunter occasionally dips their cup into a...

As a youngster, I remember stepping over a landowner’s fence to pursue a pheasant I had flushed. Would I be seen? Would anyone know what...

In the time before the beginning, pre-antediluvian and long before the winter of blue snow. Before the time of agropelters and...

As a dedicated conservationist and supporter of Ducks Unlimited until the day he drew his last breath, our friend Glenn Chambers could...

On September 13, 1957 Reinhold Alfred Edquist died. I was there and saw it happen, suddenly. As I sat at the kitchen counter, I watched...

Over the past year or so, I made a new friend and got more familiar with an old acquaintance, although neither of them knows this to be...

The woods around my house are a little quieter. Or maybe it’s just quieter in my mind. Either way, I’m not sure how I feel about this...

The sign said Angler Parking. There were seven vehicles in the Pine Tree lot when we arrived. License plates said Wisconsin and...

Sitting in my tree stand on a dark early morning, I received a text message from a friend who hunts neighboring land. He was at home....

I never paid much mind to birds as a kid. Alfred Hitchcock altered that view for a time, but after seeing no real attitude change among...

Like many things in life, becoming a hunter has been a journey. After many years, it is part of who I am. Part of my identity. Most folks...

After a year of living the lockdown life, I finally ventured back out into the real world. Admittedly, it was a little weird, but as...

After weeks of cold, snowy weather, a warm day at the end of February was a welcomed change. The blanket of snow had been pulled back and...

She was my first. She was older, much older. But she was a simple beauty that commanded respect. At eleven years old, my step-grandfather...