•Jaggedlightning crackling behind white geese pump-
ing away from it, straight toward our guns, against a dark
leaden sky, with Tony Vandemore in Missouri.
•Black dragon swans of New Zealand coming just
above the water; the mystery of paradise shell ducks, the
hen brilliant, the drakes drab and brown.
•A seven-species onslaught in SoDak after a blizzard
made it seem a bad decision to even go outside.
•A frigid Nebraska goose and mallard hunt with friends
that showed the States can be better than Canada.
•A trainwreck in Kansas with goose-human-hybrid
Randy Hill, a 38 goose rainout. Oh, the noise!
•Serpentine lines of black brant winding up and down,
coming in great swirling lines off the Sea of Cortez.
•King Eiders, held off by a vicious Bering Sea storm
until the very last day. Natives hunting for fossilized wal-
rus skulls revealed by the storm, each worth a fortune, in
the port “Deadliest Catch” was born.
A piss-broke old surfer who’d chased waves from Indo-
nesia to Africa once told me why he’d spent all he had
on surf. He said, “they can’t take your memories, man,
those are yours forever.”
At some point, your local birds get tough. Once in a
while, you should just leave, and go where the hunting
is not so hard. I’ve often referred to hunting as the very
best way to truly see the world, as you simply can’t go
waterfowling and end up on the beaten tourist path. You
are going to see the country, and meet real people, and
eat the real food. As a WF reader you are a 10-percenter.
Plan yourself a trip to anticipate, and feed your soul. We
are only as happy as what we have to look forward to.
They can never take your memories.editor's call