TRAIL ’ S END eduard kyslynskyy photo
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The Big Finish
E . Donnall Thomas Jr .
I didn
’ t need a thermometer to tell me it was cold . Stars twinkled busily through the rarified air overhead , and my boots don ’ t make dry snow squeak beneath them unless the temperature has fallen below zero . By the time we reached the spring-fed slough , condensation from my breath had left my beard caked in ice beneath my woolen ski mask , and Rosy ’ s frozen whiskers formed a silver ring around her muzzle in the early morning light . Lori , my wife and regular hunting companion , had grown quiet , which is her stoical way of letting me know she ’ s freezing . The time was early January and we were at Montana ’ s Central Flyway finish line , ready to go out in style .
WESTERN HUNTING JOURNAL
Most good stories share a simple structure : a beginning , a middle , and an end . The same can be said of good waterfowl seasons . The anticipation of opening day infuses the beginning with a life of its own . Excitement and glorious autumn weather can make up for a lot of birds that have yet to arrive from the north . By the middle of the season , the dogs are on their game and whatever rustiness your shooting suffered ... Subscribe to read more ...