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.