The old proverb about not shooting the messenger might be correct, but I can tell you that I am beginning to hate the weatherman. Not only have weather reports been hard to decipher, but the reports themselves have me mad.
Dad and I arrived at my sister’s place in Rapid City, S.D., last night to a winter weather advisory and a late dinner. Around exit 64 on Interstate 90 the wind began blowing harder than an octogenarian on their birthday. It hasn’t stopped yet, but hopefully it will in the next day or two or else pheasant hunting could be out the window.
Granted, I’m in western South Dakota at the moment and I’m joining Pheasants Forever in Aberdeen, six hours away in the northeast corner of the state, so things could be much better out that way. Right now, where I’m at however, it’s U-G-L-Y. It’s a high of 22 degrees with winds holding steady around 40 mph and gusting to 52 mph! The light, dry snow on the ground whips around and stings any exposed skin. Check out this video I took while letting Kona stretch and go to the bathroom.
If this weather holds across the state, then any pheasant hunting could be an interesting endeavor. That said, the weatherman is calling for a high of 21 degrees and 5 mph winds from the west-northwest on Dec. 1, our first day of hunting.
I hope he’s right. I am, after all, carrying a gun.