Still Smokin'?

On a chukar hunt 35 years ago, my wife issued a challenge: She could last longer without nicotine than I.

- ALAN LIERE

Turns out my stubbornness was equal to hers, and the cigarette we shared while sitting on the rimrock high above the Snake River in Idaho was the last one we ever had. The rest of the pack was buried ceremoniously under a pile of basalt, and though there have been times I wanted to climb back up there to resurrect it, I remain a nonsmoker.

My friend Steve has not been similarly challenged to quit smoking despite his own passion for chukar hunting in high places where even clean, young lungs are tested by the altitude and the rigors of staying upright on talus and cheat grass-covered inclines.

Not long ago, he arranged a bucket-list bird hunting trip for the two of us in Idaho’s Hells Canyon. He hired an outfitter with a jet boat who would drop us off on a long sand bar near where the Salmon River poured into the Snake. We would pitch a tent and hunt for two full days before being picked up and returned to civilization. It would be glorious.

Until …