Saturday, 10 January 2009 13:50

All Vintagers on the Western Slope

I pushed through chest-high sorghum and tall Jose wheat grass, thumbing the external hammers of my stunning 12 bore Watson & Hancock as if plucking banjo strings. Even in the chilled air the fragrance of the grasses was intoxicating. Rock-hard washboard ground tested my calf-high leather boots and kept me off balance. Eyes darting from dirt to sky, I tried to reconcile walking agility with being ready to get a quick shot at a pheasant.

Published in Wingshooting