
Written by: Jesse Rock. Duane, NY. For me, growing up, “pá-tridge” hunting was something you did in the coldest days of winter at the hopes of staving off cabin fever in a desperate attempt to get back in the woods after deer and ducks were no longer on the table. I have fond memories of trudging through the snow of an open field, nostrils froze with the sting of cold and eyes watering in cutting wind as I headed off to find the thickest conifers in the old pastures and hedgerows across the family farm. It was there that...





