Wildlife — from the journal.

Every September it comes the same way — one bull, before light, from the head of the second meadow. Here's what the first bugle of the year tells us.

Andre · 3 min read

Front passing, the hour after a thunderstorm, snow on the high meadows. What the wind and sky are telling you when you're stalking the East Beaver bench. Five seasons of wrangler-guide observations.

Elk Glade Editorial · 6 min read

For eleven months a mature mule deer is a ghost. Then November comes and the rut hands you the one chance the rest of the year denies.

Elk Glade Editorial · 3 min read

Most of a successful elk hunt happens before the season — in the quiet weeks of late summer, reading what the country is already telling you.

Andre · 3 min read

Every spring the gobbles come back to the same ponderosa benches. The white-tipped mountain turkey is a creature of the high country, and it knows where it belongs.

Elk Glade Editorial · 3 min read

It comes out of the dark before you can see the bird, before you can see your own hand — one ringing gobble off the roost, and the whole mountain wakes up.

Andre · 3 min read

A whitetail runs. A mule deer does something stranger and better — it gathers all four legs and pogos straight up the rimrock like the slope owes it nothing.

Elk Glade Editorial · 3 min read

There is a sound that comes off the dark mountain in late September that you feel in your sternum before you understand it with your ears. It is the whole reason some of us live here.

Andre · 3 min read