Poacher's Paradise by Ron Walden

Author:Ron Walden
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Publication Consultants

CHAPTER 23

Life for a Wildlife Trooper stationed at the Soldotna post can be complicated. Salmon run in the Kenai River until it freezes and once upon a time was open the entire year. The season parameters have changed in recent years and it now ends near the end of October. The end of salmon season does not mean the Wildlife Trooper can relax. August 10 is the opening day for Dall sheep hunting on the Kenai Peninsula. The Dall sheep live in the tops of the Kenai Mountains surrounded by the glaciers of the Harding Ice Field, possibly the largest glacier field in the USA. Getting to the hunting areas without motorized help is for the young and strong. The trek can be a climb of 4,000 to 6,500 feet, depending on which area you wish to hunt. Bow hunting for moose opens shortly after, with rifle season to follow in September. Throw in the fall black and brown bear seasons, road kill moose, animal attacks and a litany of other daily reports and complaints and you have a day in the life of a Wildlife Trooper.

Will knew Donavan Fleer would be very busy in coming weeks, but he wanted to ask a big favor of his time. He pulled a cell phone from his pocket and keyed the speed dial for Fleer.

“Sergeant Fleer,” he answered.

“Donavan, Will Trippet. Where are you?”

“I’m at the Soldotna airport, changing the oil in the Cessna. What do you need?”

“I need a big favor. Will you be there for a little while? I need to talk with you.”

“I heard about the court hearing and I figured you would be calling.” Fleer had been upset by the court result, too. “I’m at the state hangar. I’ll be here, working on the plane most of the day. If you come, bring me a big Coke, will you?”

Half an hour later, Will stopped in front of the hangar. The Cessna was inside and the door was open. Trippet had stopped at the DQ and bought a 48-ounce Coke for the sergeant. Fleer had heard the truck pull in and stepped out from under the wing, wiping oil off his hands. Will gave the big plastic cup to him and waited for Donavan to stop gulping the drink.

“Ahh! Thanks, Will. That’s good and I was really thirsty.” He took another big drink. “What’s on your mind?” he finally asked.

“I see you’re getting ready for hunting season, but I wanted to know if you are going to have a little flying time to help me out.” Will was almost pleading with the sergeant.

“Come on over to the desk and let’s sit down.” The two men walked to the corner of the hangar where some lockers, an old office desk and several old office chairs, in bad condition, were located. Fleer flopped into the chair behind the desk while Trippet remained standing.

“You said you had heard about the Resnic case,” Will said in a solemn voice. “It may not be practical, but I still want to nail those two.

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