the artic airmmass brought winter at us like a fastball to the ribs. there was no time for your blood to thicken. we all had to pile on the layers and get used to sleeping with cold feet.
"it'll bring the ducks." "it'll bring the pheasant into better cover" it'll do this and it'll do that.
i listen to the people around me because the spot i have chosen for my current employment is chock-fucking-full of experts on all things outdoors. and by that i mean there is a handful of knowledgeable folks and a shit pile of blowhards. unfortunately it's hard to tell at first because some people are particularly skilled at creating their own mythology.
since the opening of pheasant season, my dog and i have started to struggle again. mostly because i've come to the realization that i'm a shitty pheasant hunter.
so if it was true or not, we were going to find out if the freezing weather might help a shitty hunter like myself. at 5am with high hopes i pulled on a couple of jackets and drove to a spot i had scoped on the map.
the thermometer read 2º as we coasted to a stop...
...and then i made all the wrong choices. picked the wrong direction to walk so my dog was at a disadvantage. the gloves i had brought were too thin and the wind made them irrelevant. the first rooster that got up was maybe 15 yards away and my numb fingers and arms did not respond to the messages my slow brain was sending. then i whiffed on the next bird. then the dog was steady on a group of hens that beckoned him to follow. then a single rooster went up and i could only watch because i was frantically fucking with my glove for fear of losing my fingers all together and then my dog wanted to go one way and i didn't follow and then another rooster got up....
...so if there are any good pheasant hunters out there that want a good flusher to hunt with i'm not above pimping him out. he wants birds... god he wants birds. he'll listen to voice, whistle and hand signals for commands. he's kind of an asshole at heel because he'll whine the whole time but who can blame him, he's forgotten what it's like to have birds shot over him.