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Hunting & Fishing Stories
How I get the game I cook.
Trolling for fish – salmon or otherwise – is unlike almost every other type of angling. Trolling causes a cascading avalanche of emotions all ultimately flowing into caught fish, the promise of dinner, and a zenlike state… if you’re lucky.
Morel hunting the way I do it is a lonely affair. Miles walked in a beaten, burned landscape. A morel here, a morel there. It’s not the bonanza of a big burn, but I wouldn’t give it up for anything.
For the second time, I journeyed 300 miles south to hunt wild pigs. And for the second time, good karma lead to a good hunt. Crazy how that works out, eh?
I had a few epic hunts this past month, but none quite so satisfying as a snipe hunt Holly, my friend Jesse and I had in south Texas. Snipe? Yes, they are a real bird. Read on…
Last month I hunted tundra swans in Utah, and we ate our bird for Christmas dinner. When I tell people I have hunted and eaten swan I get reactions sunning the gamut from excited interest to full-on horror. Few animals carry the cultural baggage that swans do, and even I am not immune to these mixed feelings.
Geese are not ducks, nor is goose hunting like duck hunting. Geese are far tougher to fool, far tougher to kill. But when it all works, there is nothing else that thrills me more. I had such a hunt last week.
Most hunters, as well as those who raise livestock for meat, deal with this paradox: We love what we kill. In this modern age, this is a difficult thing to explain to those who live outside our world. A recent experience with some jackrabbits makes me want to at least try.
I don’t normally get excited about rockfish. They are easy to catch, and are often small. But recently in Alaska, I caught a gigantic yelloweye rockfish. I was giddy, and knew exactly what to do with it: Grilled redfish, or in this case “orange fish,” on the half shell.