If you ask us, New Year’s resolutions are largely a waste of time. The intentions behind them may be good—eat better, get in shape, etc.—but come February, most of us have long since abandoned them, and we feel guilty for doing so. But resolutions that are focused on hunting and fishing? That’s a different story. That’s something we can gladly stick with all year long. What follows are the outdoor resolutions the F&S team has set for themselves for 2025. At the end of the year, we’ll publish another story letting you know how we did. Until then, happy New Year! Here’s to 365 wild days in 2025.
Catch a Buck in Its Bed—During Deer Season
When you’re tracking deer in the snow, there comes a point when the hoofprints fall closer together and begin to meander—and you know your buck is close. My buddy and Maine guide Randy Flannery calls this the End Game. I’ve played it many times but haven’t really mastered it. I take a step, scan the woods thoroughly, and repeat—and the whole time, in my mind’s eye, I can see the heavy rack of a bedded big-woods buck shifting above the blowdowns.
I’ve never seen it for real, though. Instead, I see bucks bounding out of their beds or streaking through a screen on conifers. I’ve gotten lucky and tagged a couple deer tracking. But just once, I’d like for it to go down the way I picture it in my mind. We got a fresh snowfall the other day, and I followed a good track through a hemlock swamp. When the End Game came, I took a step, scanned a knoll ahead, and watched a buck rise slowly from his bed and stare at me for a second.
Too bad it was the day after our season closed. But I’m getting closer. In 2025, the buck will still be on his belly, and I’ll have a gun in my hand. —Dave Hurteau
Shoot the King of Sea Ducks
This year, my New Year’s resolution—to kill a king eider—is a small piece of a larger goal. Ultimately, I want to take all 41 North American waterfowl species before I turn 30 years old. One of the most difficult birds to kill on the list is the king eider because of its remote location and dangerous hunting conditions. But a New Year’s resolution isn’t supposed to be easy—and there’s no greater challenge in duck hunting than killing a king.
Read Next: 10 Bucket List Waterfowl Hunts
The only downside is that my 2025 goal is expedited since I leave for St. Paul Island in just two weeks. It will take me two plane rides from the mainland to reach the 43-square-mile island in the middle of the Bering Sea. Then, pending the weather, I’ll get a week to hunt eiders. If I connect with one of these beautiful birds, I’ll have accomplished my New Year’s resolution for the first time in my life with more than 300 days to spare. And I’ll have a drake king eider on the wall to prove it. —Ryan Chelius
Spend More Time Outside with My Daughter
My resolution in 2025 is to get 1,000 hours outside with my 2-year-old daughter, Addison. She’s a big outdoors girl (like her mama), and I’m excited to nurture that budding passion even further this year. We’ve got a couple of camping trips planned, and Santa just brought her her first fishing rod (Paw Patrol, of course). Here’s to many hours of exploring together, fishing together, and, most importantly, having fun together with the sun on our faces and grass beneath our bare feet. —Amanda Oliver
Kill a Bull Elk on National Forest Near My Home
For the past three years, I’ve been chasing elk on the steep timbered slopes just west of the small town where I live. It’s a spot I go to when I don’t have time for an all-day hunt in places further south where the glassing is easy and the elk are more plentiful. There are elk in the mountains west of town, but they make themselves scarce. In the past, when I’ve seen them at all, it’s been a fleeting glimpse outside of hunting season or a trail cam photo snapped in July. Who knows where those summer elk will be come fall?
That changed in late November of this year while I was standing on an ancient logging road overgrown with lodgepole saplings. I was scanning a ridgeline with my binos when the bull seemed to materialize out of thin air, less than 70 yards away. He was facing me, and I could barely make out his modest rack through the dense stand of pines between us.
After a three-year-long dry spell while elk hunting the spot, I felt like I was seeing a ghost. With him looking my way, I was in no position to move, let alone mount my rifle, which was leaning against the tree next to me. I continued to watch him through the glass, afraid to move an inch. Then as quickly as he appeared, the bull slinked away and faded off into a nearby drainage.
The encounter drove me crazy for months, and I’m just now getting over it. Perhaps if I’d had my rifle in hand I could have steadied the gun against a tree and punched a shot through a gap in the trees. Even if he wasn’t broadside, I could have found a spot on his brisket and pulled off a lethal shot from just 70 yards away. It took three years to get an elk in range in the spot and, within seconds, the hard-earned opportunity was gone.
With time, I’m coming to accept the encounter for what it was: a surreal run-in with one of North America’s greatest big-game animals, and on public land in close quarters to boot. The encounter is something to cherish, not brood over. If nothing else, it’s given me a renewed fervor for quick hunts close to home, a pin to hone in on come September, and a goal to strive for: a New Year’s resolution to kill bull elk in the timber. —Travis Hall
Get Back to Tying My Own Trout Flies
When I was in my twenties, the only thing I spent more time on that fly fishing for trout was tying flies for trout. I was obsessive about it: All of my fly boxes had to be jam-packed with flies. I don’t know when it happened, but at some point, I got less and less obsessive about fly-tying…until the point came when I didn’t tie at all. I honestly can’t remember the last time I tied a fly. In 2025, that’s going to change.
Now, I’m not resolving to tie every new fly I acquire this year. I don’t have time for that. Plus, I’m bound to be rusty as hell. But I’d like to think I still remember enough of the basics to tie the standard nymphs I use most often on the trout stream—patterns like the Copper John, Prince, and Hare’s Ear.
My reasons for wanting to get back into tying are twofold: For one, store-bought flies are expensive, so it’ll be nice to save a little cash (for more trout gear). The main reason, though, is that catching a trout on a fly that you tied is so damn rewarding—even more so when you tied that fly with feathers or fur from critters you took during hunting season. I know for a fact that I still have a couple pheasant tails that I plucked from roosters I shot a few seasons ago stashed my bag of fly-tying materials. I think I’ll reach for those first and tie up a few Pheasant Tail nymphs for the spring opener. —Colin Kearns
THE 1871 CLUB
