Born in Utah - 40.7606° N, 111.8881° W - Get Lost
REAL TROPHIES
Who the hell has my headlamp?
When it's buck season, the three of us roll up to basecamp like clockwork. We say we’re here for deer, but really it’s about dusting off a poker deck and talking smack. We've got a cooler full of hot-dogs, some sticks, and a never-ending supply of arguments nobody wins. That’s the tradition. Which truck is tougher. Who had the best shot back in ’09. Whether chili should ever have beans. The debates get louder as the stars get brighter, and by the end, we're all laughing too hard to care who’s right.
Trade me for a pillow?
Every trip, someone forgets something important. A jacket. Boots. Once, an entire sleeping bag. Instead of panicing, we've make it a sport. Borrowed socks. Stolen thermos. Joe rocking a blaze-orange vest two sizes too small while the rest of us can’t breathe from laughing. It's a swap meet of hand-me-downs and half-broken gear, each piece with its own story. The rifles lean against the trailer, untouched for hours, while we poke the coals and pass around stories like they’re heirlooms. It never matters if we bag a thing, the memories we haul home are the real trophies.