This is the quietest elk season ever; the first year in the last thirty-five in which no one is sleeping in our living room for an early wake-up call on opening morning. In the distant past, hunters and their families stayed here for two to seven days, hunting, eating, and steadily growing older. Now a small group of four are going out with little expectations because of the dry weather and the lack of elk sightings. There is a basic luck factor that comes into play, but otherwise, they are going out to old stomping grounds and hoping for the best. I don't think the cooler will look like this anytime soon, but you never know...
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment
I love to hear from you, especially if I can help with your efforts...