The musings of writer Johnny Carrol Sain on wild places, wild things, rural culture and why 'philosophical hillbilly' doesn't have to be an oxymoron.

Recent Work

Folklore, history, hunting, conservation: Stories from the places where the pavement ends.

The mountains are calling

By Johnny Carrol Sain I always have to convince...

See, feel, love, understand, have faith

If you don’t know who Aldo Leopold was, please,...

Swimming through my mind

I’ve been obsessed with gar for the last...

King of the woodpile

  I usually work in a back room I’ve...

It’s over

Whether you end the season by running out of...

Dead skunks don’t lie

During the last week or so, the drive into town...

Recent Blog Posts

April 26, 2016 |

The mountains are calling

By Johnny Carrol Sain I always have to convince myself that the first gobbler I hear in the spring was really a...

February 17, 2016 |

See, feel, love, understand, have faith

If you don’t know who Aldo Leopold was, please, stop reading this essay right now and do a Google search. I’m not...

September 5, 2015 |

Swimming through my mind

I’ve been obsessed with gar for the last few weeks. Yep, gar — cylindrical, toothy, armored,...

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