This quick and easy recipe is bursting with flavor and makes for an excellent, well-balanced lunch or dinner. The recipe can easily be doubled to serve more people as well.
There’s a moment every mule deer hunter lives for. You’re glassing a far ridgeline, the sun just tipping over the peaks, and you catch movement. A buck. Big-bodied, ears alert, antlers catching light. But the question starts burning right away: How big is he? And more importantly — is he the one?
f you’re planning a mule deer hunt out West, one of the first big questions you’ll face isn’t where to go — it’s what to bring. Rifle or bow? It’s a decision that shapes your entire hunt: when you’ll be in the field, how close you’ll need to get, and even how likely you are to notch that tag.
I’ve hunted mule deer with both — and both have their place. But they demand different mindsets, different skills, and different kinds of grit.
Wildlife of the west are facing increasing threats to their continued existence. Grace understands the importance of protecting this wildlife and the habitats that they rely on. She is passionate about ensuring that future generations can spot a mule deer in the sagebrush sea. Or see a herd of pronghorn run freely across the landscape. It’s up to all of us to work together to give back to the landscapes and wildlife that are an integral part of our American identity
In the backcountry, gear either works or it slows you down. That’s why Tricer was created by hunters who needed lightweight, durable, and reliable gear that performs in real hunting conditions.
Every once in a while, I like to masochistically challenge myself by eating something stupidly spicy. I’ve never truly understood why I (and many others) get these cravings which provide nothing but hurt… Must be something broken in our brains!
I got that desire recently, which happened to coincide with a strong hankering for a burger. Smashing my two desires together into a spicy-as-all-get-out burger would allow me to get two birds stoned at once, so to speak.
It’s two nights before the Spring turkey season, and I’m trying on my lucky camos for the first time since deer season. The holidays have come and gone, and my gut is…larger. I suck it in but my arms are shaking, straining like I’m gripping matter and antimatter, trying to get the brass button to go inside that tiny buttonhole. Dang.
“People call this the Mule Deer Factory of Colorado!” she laughs. It’s an apt title: Mule deer in Rio Blanco County outnumber people by many thousands. They are surely hidden in the landscape here, along with many other creatures that depend on healthy sagebrush habitat—like greater sage-grouse, an enormous and ornate grouse species that is entirely limited to sagebrush.
