Mist: nature’s way of adding a little mystery. Fog: when the world pulls a veil over its eyes. It rolls on, it doesn’t stop—like coyotes coming into the sounds of February.
While the Sandman drifts through the night, bringing sleep and dreams, we watch the countryside through silver-lit windows. Like wandering shepherds without a flock, we send coyotes off to never-never land.
Sunday - In the early hours of the morning, as we warmed our bones in the truck, trying to shake off the chill with deer sticks, coffee, and energy drinks, I knew I had met a couple of guys just as ate up with this as I am. On our first stand, we set up near an indian Rez, and two groups of coyotes answered our vocals. We managed to pull one group off the reservation, but as the moon rose, nothing came in aggressively. The cold was brutal—fingers so numb it was a struggle to slide the safety or work the remote. Still, we grind it out until we had all we could stand. It was a great hunt and even better company, sharing the misery and the thrill with some solid guys.
While the Sandman drifts through the night, bringing sleep and dreams, we watch the countryside through silver-lit windows. Like wandering shepherds without a flock, we send coyotes off to never-never land.
Sunday - In the early hours of the morning, as we warmed our bones in the truck, trying to shake off the chill with deer sticks, coffee, and energy drinks, I knew I had met a couple of guys just as ate up with this as I am. On our first stand, we set up near an indian Rez, and two groups of coyotes answered our vocals. We managed to pull one group off the reservation, but as the moon rose, nothing came in aggressively. The cold was brutal—fingers so numb it was a struggle to slide the safety or work the remote. Still, we grind it out until we had all we could stand. It was a great hunt and even better company, sharing the misery and the thrill with some solid guys.
