Passing It On

Apr/May 2011 EHJ (Issue 124) - For the last five years, I have booked Alaska salmon fishing trips with Lance Kronberger. I had met Lance in 1994 in Idaho on an elk hunt in the Frank Church. Lance was right out of guide school and he was the packer on his first elk hunt. Over the years, we have become enduring friends. My son, James, started fishing for trout near our home in Stanley, Idaho when he was three years old. James wanted to fish every day from the first time he went fishing. In 2010, James was nine years old, and it was the fourth year he would go fly-fishing for salmon with Lance - Lance and James became fast friends during those trips. On those fishing trips, James became a remarkably driven and skilled salmon fisherman, quickly developing the necessary techniques.

Jenni's Ram

When most hunters apply for a sheep tag, they know they’re simply donating their money, but not my wife, Jenni. She applied feeling 100% confident the tag was hers. Two months later, she opened the mailbox and handed me the draw results. She just smiled and said, “See, I told you I was going on a sheep hunt.”

Pulling An All-Nighter

It was a surreal experience as my outfitter, Darwin Carey, flew me 45 minutes into a remote lake deep in the Cassiar-Kechika Mountains of northern British Columbia. After years of saving and planning, I was actually in camp and going Stone’s sheep hunting.

Giant Dall Double

Four days earlier, we were blanketed in fog and snow and I would have loved to see just a glimpse of the sun. Now, as it hung barely above the opposite ridge in a cloudless sky, it couldn’t disappear soon enough. More than 150 miles north of the Arctic Circle, I was high on a ridge in the Brooks Range, and banking heavily on the prospect of three Dall rams being somewhere in the valley below me.

Hitting the Hunting Version of "Mega Millions"

June of 2010 will go down as one of the most exhilarating times for me as a hunter. The ritual of applying for tags in western states ends about that time, and for those of us who take this all too seriously, it’s right around then that we start hoping that the draw gods will shine upon us.

Just a Little Patience

Dreams of the hunt - the possibilities, hope, and adventure – is what keeps me going every year. Every spring, I fill out hunt applications and fish while I eagerly wait for the results of the draws. My good friend, Mike, called me early one morning and the excitement in his voice was evident. “We drew!” he shouted.

The Big Boys Club

It started at around 7 a.m. with, “Hey, there’s a bull!” Those are the exact words I spoke one year earlier on the third to the last day of the season. I had spotted a very good bull but it was 15 minutes before legal shooting light and he was two miles away.

A Stalemate with Big Billies

The feeling of déjà vu was overwhelming as we approached the downed billies. Mere days had passed since the last teenage hunter had brought home a B&C goat; only this time, it was two goats and two hunters! On the rebound from one momentous mountain hunt, I found myself immersed in another.

A Birthday Present to Remember

We decided to apply our nine-year-old son, Sid, for his first big game hunt, and lo and behold he drew his second choice. No adults in our household were drawn and Sid was not yet ready for his muzzleloader mule deer hunt.

Bull in His Bed

At 11:30 a.m. on a mild November day, I took my daypack off and broke out a peanut butter and honey sandwich for lunch. The terrain was typical north-facing exposure, fairly thick with timber. I should mention that I also unshouldered my rifle and leaned it against a small tree near my pack. This fact becomes more important as my story continues.

First Buck

As I settled my crosshairs on the biggest buck of my life, a thought came to me. My 15-year-old son, Kyle, was sitting behind me and had never shot a buck before. I looked at him and could see the excitement and anticipation in his face...

Hardcore Field Test

Hanwag Alaska GTX

Nearly 16 miles into our hike, my friend, Derek, and I stopped in a saddle to survey a high mountain basin. We were thankful for the opportunity to get away, see God’s country, and temporarily live the dream. We were scouting for my upcoming mountain goat hunt in Idaho and the hike had been a real test on both me and my equipment. Hot August days brought little sign of mountain goats but plenty of breathtaking views.