CLAYTON. The making of a.......... grouser

Took Clayton to Twin Moose. He was the only boy in a camp full of (over educated) men.  He relished in the weekend.

Thanks to Uncles Keith, Bill, Josh and Rich for mentoring him in the ways of life. Of poker: "it doesn't work if you bluff every hand" (Stedman, 2014).

Big Twin Moose Pond, with Uncle Keith. A life altering experience: connecting the labor and engineering of a little rodent with this incredible ecosystem. Moments after this photo was taken he turned to me, "this is the best hunt.... ever."

With his trophy: a perfect walking stick, ramrod straight, bark stripped by beaver.

 Draped in oversized, hand-me-down hunting vest (with lots of pockets for collecting rocks, leaves and other treasures), he fought a myriad of distractions and wet feet to keep up.

Summiting the highest point on Mnt. Clayton, with Uncle Rich goading him on (walking stick to right). Only minutes after flushing our first grouse of the day.

Bellying up to the bar at Big Moose Station. Life is good.

At Canoga Creek Conservancy, on the way to Twin Moose. Earning himself the radio handle, "Squirrel."