Montana hunters are lucky. Not lucky in hunting, but lucky in that we hunt here, in Montana. In this book, you'll see why. Here we hunt elk from border to border, and they're big and wild too, just like the country they live in. You can hunt elk for months every year, if you care to bow hunt in the early autumn and rifle hunt later on. But it's hard to hunt elk all that time. There's so much other hunting to do.
We have two species of deer, and hunting them is a passion for some and a time-honored tradition for most of us. We also have two species of bears, but we only hunt the black bears. We simply let the grizzly add spice to the scenery. Many of us get to hunt pronghorn antelope, and there is something very special about hunting where the sky comes down almost to the ground and the grassy seas go on and on to the far horizon. And if you're really lucky, you can hunt moose, bighorn sheep, and mountain goats. Where else can you do all that?
But wait -- there's more!
Upland bird hunters think they're in heaven, for they can whistle up their dogs for pheasants and sharptails, Huns and sage hens, and grouse from high mountain ridges to deep, tangled thickets. And those are small game compared to the turkeys of the open timbered hills.
Then, when it really gets cold, many of those same dogs will be retrieving ducks and geese from frozen fields and icy rivers and tiny warm spring creek where the steam boils into the arctic air. In this book, you'll see these things and more. And maybe you'll think that 'lucky' isn't the right word for Montana hunters. Maybe 'blessed' is what we really are.