I’m thirty-four years old. I was born in London to a Danish mother and a Texan father. We moved to Marietta, Georgia, then back to England until right before 9/11 when we settled in Atlanta.
As a kid I had no purpose and too much energy. I got kicked out of nearly every school for drugs, rebellion, and mischief, eventually graduating from a lockdown military Christian school in Bonifay, Florida. I always loved to read and write. It came naturally, and they are the only constant habits I have maintained for my entire life.
At fifteen my parents sent me to a wilderness program on the Appalachian Trail. Two months out there gave me bushcraft skills and my first real taste of resilience. I learned how to build a fire in the rain, how to sit still, and how to be uncomfortable without running from it.
I have been fascinated with hunting since I was young. I used to hunt squirrels in our suburban backyard with my little brother and a BB gun, but my dad only duck hunted casually so he never encouraged us to pursue outdoor hobbies other than football and baseball.
By the grace of God(and having nothing to do in military school other than schoolwork), I made it to the University of Texas as a Longhorn. After college I spent three and a half years abroad. I was a teacher in Thailand, a fruit picker in Australia, I rode a motorcycle solo across India, and I hiked the Annapurna Circuit in Nepal. Those years gave me a sense of freedom and perspective that shaped everything that came after.
When I came home, I met my wife while bartending. I talked my way into a tech sales job in Colorado, and that’s where our daughter, Surrey Jane, was born. Not long after, I lost my only brother to suicide. I numbed the pain with alcohol until a buddy took me turkey hunting to try to take my mind off of it. That hunt hooked me.
From there I threw myself into bowhunting, fly fishing, and ultra running, and backcountry exploration. The outdoors gave me discipline, structure, and purpose. It made me want to be a better husband, father, and leader. It reminded me that no one is too far gone to rebuild.
That’s what led me to create Wilderness Father. To show others that no matter their past, they can carve out a brighter future through the outdoors. To remind parents that they set the tone for their homes, and that our kids learn more from what we do than what we say.
Wilderness Father isn’t a company. It’s a conviction in purpose. It’s the belief that the wild can still shape us into who we were meant to be. That we can be both strong and kind, hard and humble, fierce and faithful.
Today I live in North Carolina with my wife, our daughter, and our bird dogs Link, Rook, and our couch potato Great Pyrenees Aspen. We spend all of our free time hunting, fishing, foraging, camping, and trying to figure out what makes us fulfilled.
Who the hell is Wilderness Father?
He’s me.
She's you.
He’s every person trying to build something real in a world that’s forgotten what that means.
FIELD
Before you eat anything in the woods, learn to identify it through every stage of its life. Bud, bloom, and decay. Pick one species, study its lookalikes, and don’t harvest until you could name it in your sleep or are with someone that can.
A good place to start is with Chicken of the Woods. It’s a bright orange shelf mushroom that grows on dying hardwoods and can light up the side of a tree like a signal fire. Once you have seen it a few times, it becomes easier to recognize, but it still requires caution. Some species look similar, and even true Chicken of the Woods can cause negative reactions in certain people. Always confirm with a local field guide and cook it well before eating.
Foraging teaches patience. It reminds you to slow down and pay attention to what has been in front of you all along. Real foragers don’t gamble. They observe, learn, and move carefully.
MINDSET: The 3-By-3 Check
At the start of each day, write down three things you want to get done. At night, list three things you’re grateful for. Do it every day for a week. It will teach you to focus on what matters and end each day with perspective instead of noise.
The oak fought the wind and was broken, the willow bent when it must and survived.
-Robert Jordan
What would you want your grandchildren and future generations to know about you?
Posting this from the saddle. Good luck to all this hunting season. May your freezers be full and your mind be etched with memories.
