Butt Cold

Hello,
It was the coldest day I've been out so far, butt cold.  I've been eyeing a place to hunt about half way between home and Anderson lake for awhile now, no hike and shallow water that doesn't freeze.  I decided to go check it out today, being that the weather was calling for calm and clear.
        After sleeping for an extra hour I loaded up Peat and we hit the road.  It was a quick set up only having to walk about 200 ft from the parking area.  I was settled in by ten till, listening to sounds of a few ducks starting to fly.  About 5 till a pair set down dead center in my spread,  perfect set up.  The pair of coot decided to walk straight up to me and then poke around on shore for awhile.  Other than that, the theme for the day was nothing moving anywhere except for some ice fishermen.  A little hiking in the channel that runs to the river and still no shots had been taken.  A lone bufflehead swung by to watch me pack up the spread.
      I left by 10:00 so I figured I should go do some exploring.  Killarney Lake was the next stop, which was just a giant sheet of ice.  As I pulled in to the lot there were three guys loading up an air boat, they had been skunked too and said they might just call it for the season.  I asked them about a dike that I  always saw people parked next to and they said there might be some birds out that way.  Nope, an hour later and no birds anywhere.
      On the way out the road comes within about a hundred feet of the river.  I figured why not take a look, I was still wearing my waders and Peat can always use some exercise.  I started waking toward the river and noticed it was about a 15 foot drop down to the water,  I could see quite a ways and again there were no birds.  Until five mallards exploded from the base of the bank, scaring the crap out of me and forcing me to defend myself.  I'm not sure if I've ever emptied my gun so fast before.  When the feathers settled one greenie was floating dead as a door nail about 30 feet out in the river, I'm pretty sure the switchblade he was plotting to use on me is at the bottom of the river now.  Peat launched down the bank and brought the bird back much faster than any before, it was a moment of pride.  He hurdled up the steep embankment and brought the bird straight to me, no dawdling, no dropping.
       That greenie had died quick and clean, a real expert slay.  While breasting him I noticed a hole dead center in his chest, upon closer inspection one pellet had gone through the breast and heart.  Peat is going to open up so much new terrain for the Idaho chapter, only 12 more days to train with real ducks.