Barney 'nips it in the bud'

I took special care this year to make sure I had dotted all the i’s and crossed all the t’s. I even stopped at Montana Department of Fish, Wildlife and Parks Region 6 headquarters to make sure I was properly licensed to hunt upland birds and waterfowl. The lady at the desk there said I was.

But still I had my doubts.

It seems every year I miss something minor. Not signing my duck stamp or failing to purchase some new add-on to my license come to mind.

It seems it’s always something, and it’s always pointed out to me by the federal warden at the Bowdoin National Wildlife Refuge.

An overly officious young man the locals affectionately refer to as Barney Fife, he can be counted on to dress me down for some perceived infraction every fall.

This year I thought I was covered.

I should have known better.

After hunting last week on the refuge in a spot I’ve hunted for years, I was greeted back at the parking lot by the warden. Like he always does, he checked my shells and asked for my license.

I quickly dug all the paperwork out of my wallet. By then the two buddies I was hunting with had returned, and the warden also checked their shells and took their licenses.

He told us to wait and got in the cab of his pickup truck where he sat for a few minutes.

When he returned he asked me if we had crossed the railroad tracks that bisect the refuge.

I said of course we had. It was the only way to access the portion of the refuge we’d been hunting.

He told me we had trespassed.

I replied that I’d hunted across the tracks for years, and he knew that.

He said it didn’t matter. Things had changed.

The warden had been watching us for hours through binoculars.

“You crossed the tracks at 11:02,” he told me.

I didn’t deny it. Why should I? Folks in Montana regularly walk across railroad tracks to hunt and fish. It’s common practice. And at the Bowdoin, there’s refuge on both sides of the tracks.

That didn’t matter. The warden told us we could be fined and lose our privileges, but he’d let us off this time.

The Montana Highway Patrolman we were hunting with thanked him for his discretion.

I wasn’t feeling quite so magnanimous. I’d just lost one of my favorite places to hunt.

I’m tempted to quit the refuge altogether, but probably won’t. The place does, after all, belong to me.

Parker Heinlein is at [email protected].