I was 15 when I met Greg. He had moved to Texas from New Jersey. It could have been sympathy I don't know. I was hunting ducks every chance I got and he asked to come along. We made several hunts to Conroe and Livingston and he was hooked. We had just finished our limit one morning and I suggested we go jump some snipe. He said he knew all about snipe hunting and was not going to fall for it. We ate our breakfast and hot chocolate and decided to pick-up the decoys. The guns were laying in the john boat. He was wrapping the lines around the decoys and I was pulling the boat. A group of birds came right in on top of us and he decided to get smart. He hollered ducks at 12 o'clock. When I looked up I knew they were not ducks. I grabbed the old Mossberg and dropped 2 birds. He was laughing hysterically and telling me they weren't ducks. I chuckled back nope they weren't, now go pick-up my snipe.

 After loading the deeks we headed over to the marsh area and filled our snipe limit too. The best desription of trying to hit a freshly launched snipe that I ever read was "it's like trying to hit a butterfly in a wind tunnel". This was soon our regular day: limit out on ducks then shoot snipe. When the ducks did not fly we shot snipe. He would not ever say it but I think he liked snipe hunting better. I wonder what he tells people today when some one says lets go snipe hunting.