The Great Hanford Duck Hunt Debacle
A weekend hunting trip in the Yakima River valley goes sideways when a party of 'nimrods' loses their transportation—the mules.
The story, cleaned up
A cleaned-up reading of the newspaper page: spelling and layout repaired, one story lifted off a crowded page. It follows the original closely but it is not a transcription. The original page is below; read it if a detail matters.
Some of Hanford’s happy hopefuls left that peaceful burg last Friday night at the unearthly hour of ten o’clock and journeyed to the Horn through the slow and peaceful medium of two Missouri automobiles. About two the next morning, they each selected a nice, comfortable rock at the old Indian camping grounds and gave themselves to the arms of Morpheus for a few hours. All day Saturday they tramped up and down the banks of the Yakima in pursuit of the elusive duck, but to no purpose till two valiant nimrods slipped off by themselves, leaving the rest of the bunch wasting ammunition on a flock of helldivers. The two succeeded in decreasing the visible supply of duck considerably while the rest looked on and wondered how they did it. One of the hunters waded the Yakima twice after a couple of fish ducks. Sometime in the afternoon the aforementioned mules decided they were no longer needed and set out for any place in particular. This left our heroes with no way to get the wagon back to Hanford. It is reported that they made such speed through the sagebrush heading for home that they crippled several jack-rabbits. We have been convinced that 'Bill' and 'Breno' may be no experts at duck hunting, but when it comes to hunting mules they sure hold the tin medal.
“We have been convinced that 'Bill' and 'Breno' may be no experts at duck hunting, but when it comes to hunting mules they sure hold the tin medal.”
This humorous anecdote captures the rugged, often unpredictable nature of travel and recreation in the early days of Hanford, long before the area was transformed by the federal government.
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