Ptarmigan Above Timberline

[Photoessay] Somewhere along the spine of the Rockies. North of 13,000 feet. A world of wind and cold and rock-too harsh for even trees to put down roots. It's hard to believe anything could survive up here . . . until the dog goes on point. You walk in boldly, searching the rocks and short grass. Where could they possibly be hiding? And suddenly they're up-a flurry of flickering white that this time isn't a snow squall. Wheeling, turning, pitching into thin air. White-tailed ptarmigan at their high-country best.

Do you like what you read? Subscribe to Shooting Sportsman»