Besides the people who sell snowblowers and shovels, others who are smiling a little more these days are anglers and waterfowl hunters.

The latest round of winter weather will go a long way toward recharging wetlands and pumping up lakes when the snow starts to melt this spring.

With a little luck, the melt will be a slow process allowing the runoff to settle where it is most needed.

Waterfowl hunting for the past seven or eight years has been less than spectacular.

We went from days when there was water sitting in every low spot on the prairie to mud holes in their place.

As a kid growing up in Sheridan County, duck hunting was a way of life, much like sandlot baseball games on the courthouse grounds.

During the summer you'd see kids walking down the streets, carrying the gloves and bats up to the courthouse.

Whoever showed up - even if almost nobody did - there would be a game.

As teenagers, it was the same kind of thing as the days grew shorter and the night colder.

I would leave the house in the dark, shotgun over my shoulder and pockets full of 16-gauge shells.

It was a block down to my buddy Randy's place, the meeting spot most Saturday and Sunday mornings.

We didn't meet there so much because he had doughnuts and hot chocolate in the morning; he had the car.

The old '63 Chevy was the perfect hunting rig; you could fit six guys and their guns in and still have plenty of leg room.

Back then, we'd split up in a couple groups on sloughs north of town and keep the ducks moving all day.

And there were gobs of them - teal, gads, mallards, a few pintails here and there.

It was a simpler time for the most part. We probably had one pair of leaky old waders between us and shotguns that had seen their better days for the most part.

I grew up shooting an old Model 97 16-gauge. My older brother used it before me and my younger brother after us.

It was a classic that was handed down to us from our grandpa.

These days, guns are better, ammo is more high-tech, optics are vastly improved and you can even get online and follow waterfowl migrations on some Web sites.

I know I probably sound like some old curmudgeon, but the only high-tech gear we had was a watch.

We needed to know when to meet back at the old '63 for lunch, which usually consisted of a baloney sandwich.

Ah, the days.

So here's to the days of yesteryear and old gang - Merk, Tuck, Cactus, L.B. and R.D.

Give me a call, I'm ready to go again.

(Reach reporter Brian Gehring at 250-8254 or brian.gehring@;bismarcktribune.com.)