“Nothing burns like the cold.
But only for a while.
Then it gets inside you and starts to fill you up,
and after a while you don't have the strength to fight it.”
While Shane's taking some time off, I'm his trapping buddy, as he calls me --
venturing out early after the sun is just up, to check his traps.
It's much like a treasure hunt -- and I truly believe that's why the man
loves this activity.
Will the next trap reveal a successful set?
Or will it appear just as it did yesterday -- with no tracks or
As we round the farmland terraces,
you can cut the anticipation with a knife.
So far, success is demonstrated
by a light punch in my upper arm
or a double-hand slap on the steering wheel
of his truck.
Defeat does not show itself --
other than his getting out of the truck
to examine the area for tracks and
applying a second dose of secret lure.
It's frigid, freezing.
I can barely hold the camera still
for my shivering.
Cold wind blows.
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