FPW’s Montana Outdoors magazine has an article that begins … As daybreak gradually unveiled the clearing, a single rifle shot echoed from a distant mountain. Some lucky person’s hunt had ended in the first minutes of the season. Having experienced such good fortune myself in previous seasons, I smiled. Soon afterward, another rifle cracked off to the south, but was followed by a volley of three quick rounds. I knew that feeling, too. But I wasn’t there that day to notch my nonresident big-game license.
I was after owls.