There’s a difference between accepting your fate and giving up.
I’ve come to the realization that my particular place in the outdoor world isn’t going to be the expert of anything except maybe that “get back on the horse” metaphor.
I can do things well enough to be successful and have fun, but there will likely never be film crews following me, and if I ever publish a “how to” book, look at the fine print or familiarize yourself with sarcasm and irony before purchase.
That doesn’t mean that I am fated to have a bad time. Quite the opposite really. My only barometer as a mediocre Alaskan is entertainment and fun. People who want to see Boone and Crockett animals or dozens of steelhead in a single morning know better than to read what I write or follow me on social media. I have only the reputation of an average dude who attempts to adequately articulate his outdoor inadequacies.
See full column at: