Having it All
Living outside with a gun
My mom always told me I could be anything I wanted to be, like a doctor, a lawyer, even president. She told me that when she tucked me in bed, when I went off to school, and while we were lying underneath the stars listing to our hounds run a coon track. I don’t think I ever really wanted to be anything other than just me, and the only me I’ve ever known was one who wanted to be outside with a gun.
I didn’t get to do that as much as I wanted to, but my mom and dad never got in the way. We lived on the river during the summer, where I learned to fish, float a canoe, ride the rapids and hunt copperheads. We also made frequent trips to the family hunting camp where thousands of acres were there for me and a rifle to explore. But it wasn’t enough, so I read the outdoor magazines; instead of girly books hidden under my mattress there were issues of Field & Stream and Guns & Ammo. I figured a man ought to have it all just about right if he could live outdoors with a gun and tell others how enjoyable it was.
In high school I told my senior English teacher that’s what I wanted to do. She said to find a different career path. In her defense, she was driven by the dogma of public education, and admittedly, I could not have diagramed a sentence if Hemingway or Ruark had risen from the grave and helped me. But I could build a campfire, find my way in the wilderness—in the dark—and hunt and shoot. Jobs for men who want to be outside with a gun are not plentiful. I soon ended up with combat boots that never left American soil, and later, with a badge. I didn’t make much money in either vocation, but I was outside with a gun, a lot. I kept my desires fueled with the pages of Field & Stream and other magazines.
Though somewhat by chance and with some encouragement from my wife, I ended up writing for outdoor magazines. That led to the life I wanted to live back when I was listening to the big plans my mom had for me and to the advice everyone else wanted to give me. Most of the important stuff I’ve learned, I’ve learned outside with a gun, partly because that’s where I spent most of my time, but mostly because I had a wife who let me live like I wanted to.
There’s an inherent responsibility that comes with being an outdoorsman, and life in the outdoors can be both rewarding and difficult. It can make you or break you, which is why many rites of passage occur there. You cannot tell very much about a person in a safe stress free environment; if you want to know a man’s true character, take him hunting in the wilderness and hope something goes wrong.
I witnessed a young man grow up in the wilds of Africa, where I also watched grown men fall apart. Not far from the Rio Grande in the ruggedness of West Texas I saw a man’s evil character unveiled when he was under pressure, I’ve seen a mother embrace the outdoors and death with courage and dedication, and I’ve shared the experience of becoming a hunter with my daughter. I watched a massive bull elk bugle on a New Mexico ridgeline in the stillness of a cool morning, and then I killed him. I’ve ridden deep into the Frank Church Wilderness, walked the Sonora Mountains, stood on the Southern Alps, waded the bogs of Newfoundland, and I’ve left footprints across Ireland, Scotland and Germany where my ancestors trod. And I’ve done it all with a gun in my hand.
My mother and my teachers might have had the best intentions for me, but I’ve learned that I was right all along. A man can have it all—everything but money—if he can live in the outdoors with a gun and tell others how magical it can be.
If you have a burning desire for the adventure that comes with a life lived outside—often with a gun—you might should subscribe to the new Field & Stream Journal. This is not the Field & Stream magazine of old, this is a book—a thick journal on quality paper with great images. They may fire me tomorrow because of dangling participles—whatever they are—or for some other grammatical injustice, but I’m proud to be a part of what may very well be the last bastion of the written outdoor word that conveys the type of life I’ve lived.
If you get a chance to check out my story, Home Away From Home, in the latest issue—Spring 2026—and maybe you’ll get a better idea of what I’m talking about.
If you like hunting stories and reading about rifle cartridges, but don’t want the story bogged down with ballistic minutia, you should check out my latest book, Rifle Cartridges for the Hunter.
To an extent you are correct. Editors sometimes have a different opinion :)
In some cases that is true. Of course there are some great teachers and guidance counselors -- I had a few of them.