Taking Aim
It finally struck me that my son is finding his way in a world that is actively pressuring him to steer clear of the very things I hold dear. Continue reading Taking Aim
Author: Wrightoutdoors
Because Stories Are Meant To Be Shared: JD Stiles
I don’t know that a memory of taking two bucks would be as sweet as the memory of my son’s reaction. Continue reading Because Stories Are Meant To Be Shared: JD Stiles
Offseason
By and large, my offseason is reserved for another pastime. The offseason, for me, is a time for dreaming. Continue reading Offseason
Because Stories Are Meant To Be Shared: Geoff Patterson
That final trip was one of the best outings I’ve ever had on the water. Continue reading Because Stories Are Meant To Be Shared: Geoff Patterson
What’s in a Memory?
Like many hunters, I depend on the successes of spring to get me through summer. The memory of a dewy April morning often eases the misery of a scorching August afternoon. Continue reading What’s in a Memory?
Because Stories Are Meant To Be Shared: Alan Gower
The first taste of my first kill was all it took to convince me to return for seconds. Continue reading Because Stories Are Meant To Be Shared: Alan Gower
Because Stories Are Meant To Be Shared: Joey Campos
Joey Campos didn’t grow up hunting, but he’s more than made up for lost time. Most of my youth was … Continue reading Because Stories Are Meant To Be Shared: Joey Campos
Because Stories Are Meant To Be Shared: First Hate
“I meant exactly what I said,” replied the host bluntly. “There’s first love. There’s first hate, too.” Continue reading Because Stories Are Meant To Be Shared: First Hate
Because Stories Are Meant To Be Shared: Andy Brazle
If I could cross the open ground in front of me without being spotted, I might still have a chance. If not, I would have wasted three hours of afternoon and three hundred feet of elevation. Continue reading Because Stories Are Meant To Be Shared: Andy Brazle
Mournful Echoes
I had just calmed my breathing and corralled my heart rate, convinced that my eyes were playing tricks on me, when the jake began to speak. Continue reading Mournful Echoes
Wright Outdoors 