powered by SignMyGuestbook.com
| Newest
Older Previous Next Random Contact Profile Host |
blizzard warnings - 13:52 , 03 October 2013 heelerless - 21:32 , 18 August 2013 Red Coat Inn in Fort McLeod - 11:38 , 23 June 2013 rushing into the waters - 09:53 , 21 June 2013 choosing a spot - 17:43 , 27 April 2013 |
north station day 2
We'd checked less than 40 animals on Thursday. A fairly quiet day by my book, while the assistant sent down from Regional Town to help with the CWD sample collections thought we'd been rather busy.
Today would probably be even slower. So I sent him off to the east, to wander in mountains and roads he would need to learn well in another couple months, and maybe find hunters with a few deer and elk to sample.
At first that seemed a wise decision. In the morning there was little to do but read the paper, and watch a jogger head out on the Continental Divide Trail.
And watch her return forty minutes later,
her dogs lagging far behind, tongues dragging.
But at forty minutes after two o'clock, I jinxed myself.
I made a cup of coffee. And went wandering amongst the nearby fields, gathering blanketflower seeds.
And the dam burst. In the next hour I processed a dozen deer.
I had trucks backed up the length of my parkway, the last bumper almost on the highway. Walking down the line trying to release any vehicle of empty-handed hunters, I found they all had deer.
It was like they had gathered themselves up the road, and then came rolling in as a convoy.
Just to bury me in work.
Add to that, one truckload of near-livid hunters wanting to report an elk poaching incident.
And another family of nonresident hunters who were totally lost, at least fifteen miles from anyplace they could legally hunt. Yes, they had every road, topographic and management area map they needed.
It's just that neither husband nor wife had any clue how to read one.
One hour and three minutes after I made my fresh coffee, I finally got to sit down in the truck and sip it.
It was cold.
