I went on my first spring goose hunt recently, and it made quite an impression.
I’ll share those impressions below, but I must start by breaking a rule of journalism. I cannot tell you where I went or with whom I hunted. I’m not the kind of hunter who guards honey holes, but my hosts are. And since I like them and want to be invited back, I’m going to respect their wishes and tell you only that had we been hunting 140 years ago, we would have been somewhere in the Dakota Territory.
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