Last week, I had a delightful experience that made me giddier than my wedding day. I was invited to join biologists and researchers as they banded burrowing owlets. Tiny, downy, newly hatched baby owls? Count me in!
I hooked him and mass chaos ensued. AJ yelled “fish on!” and then began trying to wrangle me into doing what he said so I wouldn’t lose the fish. “Hold your pole this way, now lift up. Ahh, that’s a nice fish! Reel slowly.”
Amphibians are a critical part of the ecosystem and we’re excited that this app will allow you (frog lovers) to help us (frog studiers) protect their populations.
One of our PTT-equipped owls managed to evade prairie falcons, badgers and weasels and began her fall journey southward from Cisco, Utah on October 3. On October 8, she was on the edge of Grand Gulch in San Juan County, and by October 14, she’d found her way to…
One particular goat that some have dubbed “Gruff” (he has a broken horn) can often be seen with the group of lively goats. Additionally, several “kids” or juvenile mountain goats have been seen playing and jumping among the rocks, seemingly unaware of their precarious surroundings.
Keeping the fish you catch — up to your legal limit — is the key to providing fish with the food they need to grow. So keep your catch and cook it up for the fam!
Either hunter could have legally shot at the bird but both declined. I was impressed with the good judgment and courtesy the father and son team exhibited even though they had no idea I was watching.
I harvested five chukars in less than two hours! This hunt will forever be seared in my memory. I have a general philosophy that life is about the happy memories we make. My hunting companions performed their tasks flawlessly, and I shot as good as I ever have.
Oh, and ravens will eat pretty much anything: from small, already-dead mammals to bird eggs and fruits. I’m with Poe in finding these birds a little on the creepy side. Their deep, gurgling croak is enough to raise the hair on my arms.
At the end of the day, as we walked back to the truck, a rooster flushed. Having played guide that day, I was the only one in our group who hadn’t gotten my limit. This one was mine. The rooster came down the draw towards and past me. I fired once, twice, then I fired my last shell. On the third shot the rooster folded.
When he served them up, the steaks looked pretty typical: browned on the outside, with a pink strip in the center, just how I like ‘em. I wasn’t prepared for how it would taste. I couldn’t believe it. I finally had to ask, “What are we eating?”
I took a little time out to enjoy the moment. Euphoria, 12,000 feet above it all, alone with my dogs. Life is good.