If You Had This, Imagine What You Could Do

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We’re all guilty of it. If only I had _____, then I would _____. You fill in the blanks. Today I was reading Greater by Steven Furtick and I realized how guilty I am of it too. “If only I had a better lens, then I would be able to inspire people to see God’s beauty through my photos.” “If I had better gear, I would have more success as a hunter.” “If only somebody would give me a chance, I would get more attention with my writing, photography, film, blog, etc.” For years I have been limiting myself by what I don’t have. But rarely do I think of what I can do with what I do have. Continue reading

Why I Don’t Pray for Safety

I was hunting black bears by myself in the backcountry of northwest Montana. My tent was pitched 4 or 5 miles up a gated logging road that I had walked, as bears often feed on the grass that grows on the edges of them. It was littered with fresh bear crap and both wolf and bear tracks. I hadn’t seen one yet and I decided to call it a night. Trying to fall asleep within the false safety of the tent, my mind started to wander. With grizzlies, wolves, mountain lions, protective sows and unpredictable weather; it was tempting to give in and asks for God’s blessing on my safety. But it just felt contradictory.

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How to be a Freelance Outdoor Writer, with Tom Dickson (Montana Outdoors)

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Tom Dickson is the editor of Montana Outdoors, former editor of Minnesota’s Conservation Volunteer, author of Fishing for Buffalo and The Great Minnesota Fish Book, and has written for various publications such as Fly Fisherman, National Wildlife, and Sporting Classics. We got a chance to sit down and interview him about being a writer and editor.

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Three Generations Afield

Late November we made our annual Thanksgiving pheasant hunting trip in eastern Montana. We started the day off at our usual spot where we let the dogs get warmed up. A rooster flushed out of the cornfield to my right and flew perfectly for me. Miss. It continued to the other side of the draw where my 84 year old grandpa dropped it in one shot. Another popped up and I dropped it, but the dogs can’t find it. Must have ran. “Shoot ‘em in the face!” Uncle Steve reminded me.

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