Last month, big-game hunter Brendan Burns stood where few men, if any, ever stood before him. Seventy miles into a 10-day, unsupported sheep hunt in the remote Yukon, Burns found himself bushwhacking ...
As I loaded the truck in the pre-dawn darkness, I felt the all-too-familiar tapping of rain on the brim of my hat. The rain intensified, and I felt it soaking through my shirt and onto my shoulders.
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