I can hunt anywhere in the world, but I keep coming back to the Breaks, usually with my bow and almost always alone. My solitude owes to the remote roughness of the country; few of my friends care to hunt with me because it's a physically difficult enterprise. My visitation frequency owes to its proximity; if I leave my house at noon, I can be deep in the Breaks by mid afternoon. And my fidelity stems from its public ownership. My hunting homeland is managed by the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service and the Bureau of Land Management, so I don't have to ask anyone for permission to visit.