This unflattering photo of me, soaking wet, was after my dang horse knocked me headlong into Mill Creek during a spring beaver hunt.  Such adventures are the stuff of the American Mountain Men, and I am fortunate to be a part of that legendary company.  We take to the trail to experience a fraction of the self-reliant pride the original Rocky Mountain trappers felt; sitting about the fire and looking pretty won't get you there.  

I am a farmer in northwest Iowas, have five kids and live a quarter mile from my great grandfather's original homestead.   I obtained the book "Journal of a Trapper" by Osborne Russell at age 13 and was awestruck from the get-go.  Twenty seven years later, in 1999, I joined the AMM.