t’s past midnight by the time we drive through the security gate and park alongside the former elementary school. Jim Shockey hops out of the pickup, unlocks a door that leads into a hallway, and flicks on the lights to reveal room after room of mounted game trophies and cultural artifacts gathered over a lifetime of hunting around the world. A few dozen moose and caribou racks adorn what used to be the gymnasium. A side room contains the African species, including an elephant, a lion, and a Cape buffalo skull with a bullet hole punched through it. (Shockey had been visiting the site where a buffalo killed one of his friends when, on the ride out, an aggressive bull charged the vehicle. Shockey killed it at point-blank range as it rammed the front bumper.) Another room holds full-body sheep and goat mounts from the far side of the world—argali from the Himalayas, ibex from Mongolia, blue sheep from China, and red sheep from Iran. I’m captivated by the animals, but Shockey wants to talk about the artifacts. He shows me pottery from Peru, rugs from Kazakhstan, and knives from Maasai warriors. Shockey traded for or purchased hundreds of these mementos during his travels. He bought the abandoned school (which his kids, Branlin and Eva, once attended) to convert it into a sort of natural history museum—and shrine to his career—that will one day be open to the public.