Fowl Mood

This year went from bad to worse.
With the drought there was no water,
with no water there was no food, with
no cold there was no migration.  The
open marsh fell silent and only those
bold enough to survive a multi-night
campout or lucky enough to get a
draw were hunting at the WMA.
And, only half of that (Broadmoor)
was productive  - averaging 5 ducks
a hunter.  The other half - TMG - only
managed 1 duck per hunter. 

As a family, we had our worst year in
many.  83 ducks last year, but only 17
this year.  Lt. Jim acually outshot me
by 4 birds.  I had decided to skip the
last two hunts, but came down with
a bad tooth and the pain pills that
accompany it so I couldn't hunt
even if I had wanted to. 

My youngest son was set for his
last youth waterfowl hunt and was
pick #9 at TMG.  Then I got a
cold and we bailed on the hunt.

At least Rob's had a year and
bagged the family's first greenhead.

Tennessee Boy getting the green

ofs