Hello Striper, My Old Friend
Apr 30th, 2012 | By Hank Shaw | Category: Fish, Hunting & Fishing StoriesFishing for striped bass means far more to me than merely chasing my dinner. Stripers have become a marker for the key moments in my life.
Fishing for striped bass means far more to me than merely chasing my dinner. Stripers have become a marker for the key moments in my life.
I have dug clams my whole life. But nothing prepared me for the thrill of clamming for Pacific horseneck and butter clams. This wasn’t foraging, this was hunting. And I love it.
Sometimes a plan just comes together. After the world’s shortest turkey hunt, I had so much time left over I dressed and barbecued the bird all in one day!
For the first time in years, I’ve shot a wild hog. That I am able to say that is a sign that karma comes back to you, if you have faith and persistence.
The antelope jackrabbit lives only in the Sonoran Desert, a place as harsh as it is beautiful. Hunting them last week showed me both sides of this amazing place.
After half a decade of sporadic search, I have finally caught myself a legal sturgeon. It is not my first. That first fish showed me why sturgeon are so sought after. This one showed me humility.
Nothing is quite so driven by hope as the act of gathering food from the wild. Anyone who has ever hunted, fished or foraged knows the feeling that the bonanza could come at any moment.
When the weather is balmy and the ducks aren’t flying, head to the bogs and look for the mystical snipe.
Hunting season brings with it a flood of emotions. Elation when you succeed, frustration when you do not, and always a deep contemplation about what it means to kill for food.