Mother Nature has a unique sense of humor. We had gone to bed with bare, dry fields and roads but woke to 8 inches of fresh snow. Part of our hunting crew suffered delays getting to camp, which meant only a handful of us were crazy enough to consider a morning hunt.
We pulled onto the highway, and there were no other vehicle tracks. The snow was up to the hubs on the trailer wheels, and it was still snowing hard. I could not help but think about the passage from Robert Ruark’s “The Old Man and The Boy,” when the Old Man remarked that you had to be crazy to be a duck hunter, as foul weather also spells fowl weather. I went bugged-eyed trying to see through the blowing snow but couldn’t forget the insane waterfowl action described by Ruark while fighting the elements.
There were no tracks, droppings or feathers in the field to help us decide where
