Recovering grizzly bears are expanding their range in Montana and Wyoming. Soon the precautions we take in Glacier and Yellowstone to warn bears of our presence will be required across athe region.
When I sing Steely Dan's "Peg" as I wander about the wilderness, that scares away most human and wildlife that comes within earshot. Donald Fagen I'm not.
Carp have long been seen as trash fish. But fly anglers are giving the fish and second, hard look. They like what they see.
The American avocet is an elegant, beautiful bird of the wetlands. It's one of my favorite non-game species.
Life has been pretty settled. A little too settled. So were going to mix it up a bit. A new puppy is on the way.
The photo shows Jack, my first English setter 10 years ago when I brought my second setter, Doll, home as a pup[y.
Cast your popper into fishing looking water, and just let it sit. Bass find that irresistible.
Oh, and the best Pretenders song, evah.
Spring is a happy time. Winter is over, mostly. But a bit of weather hangs on. So when things clear up, go someplace and play. It might snow tomorrow.
Bluegill are spunky, spirited, hard fighting fish. They may be small, usually, but what they lack in size they make up for with pure aggression. They're great on light tackle, and there's no better light tackle than a fly rod tugging a popper across the surface.
I put the fly rod away this spring, temporarily, so I could hone my conventional tackle skills. There's a small lake near the house full of largemouth bass, and I went to work with a drop shot rig, sorting out a technique that isn't as different from fly fishing as it might seem.
My preferred plastic baits are cucurbit-colored Yamasenkos — pumpkin, watermelon and green pumpkin.
If you want to read my latest column on my new pandemic sourdough journey, click here.
I'm more of a hunter than gatherer. Archeologists and other smart people who study such things have concluded that in terms of calories provided, gatherers have always been more important than hunters. It's just that gatherers (usually women), went about their work of keeping the clan alive with little fanfare.
Hunters (men), on the other hand, have always made a big to do about the occasional mastodon they dispatched. Sure, it was a lot of meat, but most of it spoiled and three dudes were maimed in the process. It's the greens and tubers and occasional nest robbing of the women that kept hunter-gatherer society on the path toward world domination, rather than extinction.
Sourdough bread is more of a gatherer thing. Grain was gathered, and is now farmed. Sourdough fermentation is a by product of wild bacteria and yeasts that live on the grains, as well as the wind. The hunter in me was never too much interested in sourdough, beyond the pleasure of eating it. That changed in March when the COVID-19 pandemic forced all of us to isolate in place. Suddenly, nurturing a sourdough starter with it's daily feedings and kitchen temperature maintenance suddenly seemed feasible.
I'm all in now. This pandemic may have permanently ruined me for grocery store bread.
Many youngsters mistake this grinning screen shot of Robert Redford for Zach Galifianakis. The scene comes from the 1972 movie "Jeremiah Johnson," in which Redford plays the part of a mountain man in a story loosely based on the life of Liver-Eating Johnson.
I'm getting pretty stir crazy so I decided to review a "hunting" movie. This is sort of a "hunting" movie. There's certainly hunting in it. It's also sort of a good movie. Enjoyable, but not perfect.