GET TO KNOW ROBIN
Most kids got a bike at thirteen. I got a buffalo.
Most kids got a bike at thirteen. I got a buffalo.
Most kids got a bike at thirteen. I got a buffalo.
The son of a hunter and a writer, raised in transit across five continents. Everything I have built since has been a way to feel that alive again.
The son of a hunter and a writer, raised in transit across five continents. Everything I have built since has been a way to feel that alive again.
THE BOY IN THE BOOK
My father is Michael Sand. Hunter, angler, author, and the man behind Netnatur, the most read hunting and nature media in Denmark. Other fathers came home from the office. Mine came home from the other side of the world, and often enough, he brought me with him.
By thirteen I had taken my first buffalo in the Australian bush, one clean shot, close enough to feel the heat come off it as it went down. In Canada I fought a sturgeon +100 KG until my arms gave out and my father just laughed. South Africa gave me kudu and eland.
New Zealand gave me tahr on the tops and chamois in the scree. There was bison in South Dakota, black bear on Vancouver Island, wood pigeon over English wheat, and long Swedish autumns that smelled of wet leaves and coffee. He wrote a book about those years. Verden Rundt, som jæger, lystfisker og far. Around the world as hunter, angler and father. I am the boy in the photographs.
My father is Michael Sand. Hunter, angler, author, and the man behind Netnatur, the most read hunting and nature media in Denmark. Other fathers came home from the office.
Mine came home from the other side of the world, and often enough, he brought me with him. By thirteen I had taken my first buffalo in the Australian bush, one clean shot, close enough to feel the heat come off it as it went down. In Canada I fought a sturgeon +100 kg until my arms gave out and my father just laughed. South Africa gave me kudu and eland.
New Zealand gave me tahr on the tops and chamois in the scree. There was bison in South Dakota, black bear on Vancouver Island, wood pigeon over English wheat, and long Swedish autumns that smelled of wet leaves and coffee.
He wrote a book about those years. Verden Rundt, som jæger, lystfisker og far. Around the world as hunter, angler and father. I am the boy in the photographs.
Thirteen, the buffalo, Australia
The sturgeon that beat my arms, Canada
WHAT IT DOES TO YOU
A childhood like that ruins you for the ordinary, in the best possible way. When you have waited three hours without moving for one clean moment, a slow afternoon at a desk stops feeling like suffering.
When you have watched your father read a valley the way other people read a newspaper, you start reading everything, rooms, deals, people, for the thing that is actually going on. I did not learn patience from a book. I learned it from animals that could not care less that I was cold.
“Sit still. Read the ground. Move once, and mean it.”
“Sit still. Read the ground. Move once, and mean it.”
“Sit still. Read the ground. Move once, and mean it.”
FROM THE WILD TO THE WORK
So I built. Not because I wanted to be a founder, but because building turned out to be the closest thing I could find to the hunt. Come & Stay, four hundred million kroner of property under management, taken and sold inside a single year with a team of two. Clean, like a shot you have rehearsed a thousand times.
TinySeaside, a place conjured out of nothing and booked out by its first summer. Netnaturshop, a return to the world I came from. And now Vallora, where I am teaching a machine to read the legal bones of a property the way a good lawyer does, only in seconds. Same temperament, different terrain.
So I built. Not because I wanted to be a founder, but because building turned out to be the closest thing I could find to the hunt. Come & Stay, four hundred million kroner of property under management, taken and sold inside a single year with a team of two. Clean, like a shot you have rehearsed a thousand times.
TinySeaside, a place conjured out of nothing and booked out by its first summer. Netnaturshop, a return to the world I came from. And now Vallora, where I am teaching a machine to read the legal bones of a property the way a good lawyer does, only in seconds. Same temperament, different terrain.
Come & Stay
TinySeaside
Netnaturshop
Vallora
THE MAN OFF THE TRAIL
Off the trail I am easy to spot. Look for the linen and the cold gin and tonic. I still hunt. I still fish. I travel for the story, not the photograph. I read more than I scroll, I overdress on purpose, and I would take one great evening over ten fine ones every time. I live like it is 1920 and build like it is 2050. Both are true, and neither is a costume.
Off the trail I am easy to spot. Look for the linen and the cold gin and tonic. I still hunt. I still fish. I travel for the story, not the photograph. I read more than I scroll,
I overdress on purpose, and I would take one great evening over ten fine ones every time. I live like it is 1920 and build like it is 2050. Both are true, and neither is a costume.
Still reading the ground
Still moving
On the road, always for the story
Underneath all of it, I am still the boy in the back of the truck, watching the horizon, sure the best thing is just over it. I usually turn out to be right.
Underneath all of it, I am still the boy in the back of the truck, watching the horizon, sure the best thing is just over it. I usually turn out to be right.
Underneath all of it, I am still the boy in the back of the truck, watching the horizon, sure the best thing is just over it. I usually turn out to be right.
