Mayans . . . Pranksters!

Wow!  It was only after I had been awakened from my slumber by the alarm clock and made tracks to the duck blind that I realized that I'd slept right through the end of the world.  I would have expected to have been shaken from my sleep or something.  Hmmm . . . aparently the Mayans had a good sense of humor.   

We expected to get 'em today.  We really did.  The birds were there, and there was more than enough of 'em.  It just didn't happen. I was joined by the Baker Boys, John, Grant, Casey Brown, and another gentlemen for what we expected to be a revival in Chuck's.  Unfortunately, the weatherman botched it yet again, and the conditions just got in our way.

Temps were forecasted for mid-30's.  Actual temps were in the mid-20's, which is a world apart from the mid-30's, because 30's means chilly, whereas 20's equals quarter-inch ice, which is exactly what we fought.  Add to that a 15 m.p.h. wind dead out of the West and the most crystal clear day imaginable, and you're starting to form a mental picture.  Lookin' dead at the sun, fighting birds that wanted to feed 400 yards from our spread, we had to plead our case all morning.  We popped a mess, but it wasn't what we hoped for.

16 Birds
10 Mallards
03 Gadwalls
02 Pintails
01 Speck



I took the mornings of Tuesday, December 18, and Thursday, December 20 off.  I was tired, and the birds just weren't cooperating.  Casey Brown and I tried it on the Lost 20 on Wednesday, December 19, but came out empty-handed.