Mention “elk hair” to a fly angling person and chances are they’ll have images of caddis patterns dancing in their heads.
Well, not me.
Not this time.
For now anyway, elk hair conjures up images of Idaho. Private land. A 3 day window of opportunity to tag a cow or branch-antlered bull. The rut is on, and I’ll be stalking the woods accompanied by a couple of good buddies with whom I fished earlier this year.
Hunting, like fishing, is seldom a slam-dunk guarantee of success, but with the afore-mentioned in my favor, the odds of coming home empty-handed would require a person of true Unaccomplishedness. In years past I’ve half-jokingly told Mrs. UA, “I need to go hunting to feed the family.” And in years past I’ve done a rather poor job of providing for the family in that regard. But this time is different. With the imminent meltdown of the world economy, we had better all think about stocking our cellars with canned fruits and vegetables; our freezers with meat. And stockpiling plenty of ammunition to defend what is ours. This time I really do need to go hunting.
Stay tuned to find out just how bad of a shot I am.
