A Wildlife Woman and an American Mountain Man

My husband is a certified American Mountain Man, in every sense of the word and lifestyle. He grows his own crops, kills, skins and tans his own hides. He can start a fire with flint and steel. He is an 18th century Macgyver. He is awesome and he kills me!
We have been married for 21 years and I have tried to keep up with him, but I can’t. Imagine us walking through the hills. He is 6’0 and I barely pushing 5’4. He has long legs and well….I most certainly do not. It takes 2.5 of my strides to match 1 of his. He can can be at the top of a mountain in about 10 seconds and I am still contemplating my first steps (did I mention I am a klutz too?).
He is all about primitive aspects of hunting and trapping and I enjoy the bells and whistles of modern technology. I am in full out camo and he has his wool, brown frock. We are about as different as day light and dark.
Yet despite our differences, it works! Are you shocked? Yeah, we are too. LOL. In the beginning it didn’t. He called me a “concrete baby” and I thought he was crazy. But our love for the outdoors and each other made it easier to work it out.
He has taught me more about how to survive in with wilderness than I could’ve ever learned on my own. He pushes my physical limits and puts me into situations that I have to think quick on my feet but always with the knowledge and faith that I can do it.
He is my hero and my motivation to be a better hunter. But don’t tell him that.

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