A Hunter Fighting for his Life

I closed the door and removed the leashes from the dogs. Soon the trailer was full of the smell of bacon and coffee. I turned the eggs as the toast popped up, and in strolled my hunting partner ready for breakfast. I am the early riser of the hunting party. I always have been. He and I ate quickly as our dogs devoured their breakfast.  

As we loaded up to head out to the marsh on day 3 of our November Kansas duck hunt. We knew we were forced out of our “honey hole” by the new wind direction. The south wind also can affect both the numbers and species of birds you see that day. One of the things that I love about hunting Kansas is that you can encounter altogether different species from one day to the next. The anticipation of what the day will bring adds excitement to the morning. As the fairly stiff breeze rolled down the drive, I noticed the familiar dusty air that I associate with the dry Jayhawk state. The night air is clear and the stars are visible due to the absence of ambient light from the ground. Only the “Super Moon” interferes with their brilliance. The light from the close full moon almost negated the need for flashlights.

The last items to load were our furry companions. My yellow Lab, Gunner, enjoys the company of other dogs. His father, Hunter accompanied us that day. The two of them shared the back seat of my Expedition laying on the wool doggy blanket.

They travel well, and hate to be left behind! Gunner absolutely loves to retrieve, even though he is starting to become arthritic. He has been getting shots by the vet, and we switched to glucosamine supplement dog food. I have anti-inflammatory medicine for him as well.  Hunter is closing in on twelve years, but will occasionally use that keen nose of his to find a downed bird.

We launched our crew on schedule and set up with the wind at our back. We were in a new area where the marsh grass was both thick and tall. It seemed like a perfect place to hide. The problem came with the fifth bird of the morning. I shot a gadwall that drifted right and crashed into the marsh grass instead of the open water where the blocks were set. The first birds splashed in the decoys which made for an easy retrieve for Gunner. To retrieve this gadwall we had to move the boat, so I fired up the four stroke Mercury and away we went. Upon arriving in line with where the bird fell, I got out of the boat and called Gunner to join me. He promptly joined me with a “belly smacker” and the hunt was on. Meanwhile Randy was encouraging Hunter to join the quest. The stench of the swamp was no surprise, but the water depth was. I am six foot five, and the water was up to my navel. It did not challenge the top of my 5 mm chest waders, but it did slow me down a bit. Needless to say, the two dogs were unable to touch bottom. I searched for the bird with my eyes, but was more hopeful that the Labradors’ nose would win the day. There was an open water pocket, but beyond that the grass got thicker and thicker. I noticed the dogs were tiring from swimming and fighting the grass. I called to them and blew my whistle. Gunner came but the older dog was making a bee line into the grass. I hollered, called and whistled, but he would not change course. “Perhaps he has the scent of that duck!” I thought. So I followed him, but he disappeared. I whistled and called, but nothing. I decided to get Gunner back to the boat. “Call your dog”, I said to Randy. “He won’t come!” Randy pleaded, “His hearing is about gone! Blow your whistle!” I helped Gunner in the boat and headed where I had last seen the dog. Randy drove the boat through open water around to the back side. The grass got so thick I had difficulty forcing my way through. Hollering and whistling all the way, I finally punched through to open water. I walked 150 yards trying to get the attention of the elderly retriever!  I heard Randy making noise as he rounded the corner in the boat. “I can’t find him! What are we going to do?” I pleaded with Randy. It had been nearly 30 minutes since I had last seen him. “He’s probably dead! There’s no telling where is in here!” The thought of that sickened me. I told Randy that I was going back in the way I came out, and he should go around the other way.

I found the path that I made through the grass. It was easy to spot as the grass was so dense there. I decided that I was going to have to use my ears more this time, since I could not see very far through the grass. I walked about twenty feet and called out. I heard a loud splash. I walked out to open water and here came Gunner. He was swimming and whining. He had a worried look on his face. I didn’t know if he was upset about the missing chocolate lab or if he thought I was in distress. I put him back in the boat, and started out again. I walked thirty feet in this time, called out, whistled and listened. Now I prayed, “Lord please help us find this dog!” I walked twenty feet, called out, whistled and listened. I walked about 30 feet, realizing that I had a lot of swamp to cover. “How far could he have gone?” I said to myself. I moved again, stopped and called out. My heart nearly jumped into my throat when I heard two splashes that sounded just like a dog’s front paws on the water. I immediately plowed through the grass like a charging rhino! I headed toward the sound, but I couldn’t see very far so I stopped when I guessed I was close. I heard a whimper and I moved to the sound and there he was! The poor guy was exhausted! He was standing using the thick grass to hold his head and shoulders out of the water. Hunter was as glad to see me as I was to see him. I put my arm around him to hold him up, and I called Randy on my cell. Randy didn’t answer, but he must have guessed why I called. He came motoring along yelling, “Did you find him?” “I had tears in my eyes when I said, “Yes!” I was so full of emotion, excitement and relief it’s hard to describe. When I got him to the boat I was so pumped with adrenaline that I picked up the 100 pound Lab and put him in the boat like a sack of flour. Randy thanked me for finding his dog. I told him that I was not leaving that swamp without him! I knew he was a fighter!

Dog Training, a Little Knowledge is Dangerous!

It was a cool October morning about 38 years ago. We decided to hunt ducks at the Beach City Dam Wildlife Area. It was still dark as we unloaded my station wagon.  I grabbed my shotgun and a bag of decoys. Next I made sure I had a box of #4 12 gauge loads, lunch, and a bag of freshly baked biscuits that my wife made that morning! What a great gesture on her part. Larry and I ate a few on the way to the hunt, but I planned on using a few to entice my dog to obedient behavior. Finally, out came "Champ".

Champ was a beautiful 90 pound golden retriever, and what a handful! He became a member of the family when he was a day and a half old. He was the runt of 14 puppies. Rejected by the mother, I was asked to take her place. I had to feed him every two hours with a tiny baby bottle for 3 weeks. I also wiped him with wet cotton balls which simulates the mother licking her new born pup. He grew to be the biggest dog of the litter, and probably the most stubborn! I read a book called "Water Dog" by Richard Wolters. Armed with enough information to be dangerous, I set out to train my first duck dog. I think Champ read a book called, "How to resist training"!

As I let Champ out of the car, I kept him on the leash so he wouldn't do something crazy. He wouldn't run away, but he would chase critters. As we headed toward the marsh area along the river, I could smell the familiar odor of the black swamp water. I knew we were close. Suddenly, a small flock of ducks erupted from a pot hole. It was all I could do to hold on to that dog. "Heel!", I said. Eventually, he settled down and the trek continued. We made our way to our spot. Larry threw out the plastic fakes while I used available vegetation to put together a make-shift blind. It was still 15 minutes until shooting time, so we waited. Champ wanted to go exploring. I kept him busy by tearing off a piece of a biscuit and feeding him every few minutes. 

We didn’t have to wait long for the ducks to return. I could hear the whistling of wings from behind us. We were craning our necks in every way possible trying to spot the feathered “fighter planes”. Seemingly out of nowhere the birds appeared over the spread. Our shotguns erupted and each smooth bore found its mark. Two teal lay belly up surrounded by dekes. For some reason, I thought it was a good idea to have the dog’s leash attached to my waist. Before I could release him and give him the fetch command, he bolted! I left me feet and that dog dragged me 50 feet through the mud before I could regain my footing and stop the run-away furry freight train!

After a firm scolding, I released him to do what he loved. Fetch the ducks. He was proud as a peacock as he brought each prize position to his master. He was reluctant to give up the second bird, but he traded it for one of my wife’s biscuits! We returned to our blind and searched the sky for more ducks as we admired our success. After about twenty minutes of storytelling and no ducks. Larry asked me where my dog was. I turned around to see the golden burglar with his nose buried deep into the biscuit bag! It was too late. He had the last one in his mouth!

Duck hunting is a great time to share stories, and “Champ and the Biscuit Bag”, is one that I have heard over and over again! Every time I hear that story, I can smell the black mud all over my coat, and see the wagging tail of the dog with the last biscuit in his mouth. As frustrating as it may have been, I have fond memories of that ornery golden. He will always be missed.

Take a Youth Hunting!

It was late January, 2001, the ponds, lakes, and even many rivers were frozen. To make matters worse, we had a sizable snow fall making it tough for birds to forage for food. Birds don't normally hang around if they can't find food. Benny, my trusted golden retriever, and I had pretty much exhausted our scouting resources. It looked like that dreaded time was upon us. It was time to put our toys away!

Usually when I get out the decoy bags Benny would get excited, but it was as if he knew that this time they were to be packed away. He lay his head on the garage floor as I dumped out the first bag of full body goose decoys. I could tell we were both reminiscing about our golf course hunt when several blades of green grass tumbled from the bottom of the bag. Yes, what a fun September shoot! The next bag of goose shells had several  corn stalks in it mixed with dried brown earth from Stewart's field. We eventually bagged a few limits there, but we paid the price with severally mornings of empty sky's and frozen toes. Bag number three got Benny's attention right quick as a field mouse came scurrying out of the bag and out the front door. If the cement were not so slick, I think the dog would have won the race to the opening, but not today. It was about this time that I heard a truck door close. Down the driveway came my former defensive back and fellow outdoor enthusiast, Chis Brown. "Hey Coach, I've been trying to catch ya. Goin' hunting?" "I can't find any birds Chris!" I lamented. "Well Russell and I have birds! They're all over the place over at Ohio Power." 

"When are we going?" I asked. We agreed on 4:30 am the next day. The shift was on from pack up to gear up. Benny and I had that excitement yet again. 

The boys showed up on time. They managed to scrounge up some old white bed sheets, and a mat to lay on in the snow. It was quite a drive to the Ohio power lands area east of us. I would provide more detail but I have no idea how to get back to that specific spot! 

I followed the boys' directions. As we came up on a nice looking field marked "public hunting", we had arrived.  I found a gentle mound in the middle of a field and instructed the boys to unload here. We got the bags and guns out of the car and here came the geese. I had to calm the boys down. "Relax guys. We're going to shoot decoying birds. Put your guns down. Here, go hide the vehicle. Chris, help me put dekes together." 

We worked quickly and set up for the hunt. Russell returned on a jog. I instructed the boys to lay down in a line facing downwind. We did not wait long before the first flock of Giant Canadas appeared over the trees. They locked their wings and coasted all the way from some 500 yards. To the boys, it seemed to take 10 minutes as the group of 20 birds looked over the spread. Wearing white in the snow made us nearly invisible. Even Benny had a white towel over him. The birds glided in low as I continued to make soft grunts and clucks. "Take 'em ", I hollered! I dropped two of the feathered 757's. I saw one more fall and a fourth start down, but regained its strength and joined back up with the group.

I gave the command and Benny was off like a rocket! He had the second bird half way back to me when I heard a honk. I looked up to see 25 Giants locked up coming right at us. "Benny, down!" I hollered. All of us immediately laid down in the snow. Benny did as well, but the goose was not dead and it was trying to get away. Benny, using some ingenuity, put his front paws on the bird to hold it down and crawled on top of it and laid on it. Benny weighed in at 100 pounds, so that goose was trapped! 

Two geese fell from that flock. One flock and 10 minutes later, we were "high fiving" and picking up gear! What a fantastic hunt. The boys were recounting each flock and every shot they took. On the way home, they gave me full credit for teaching my dog to lay on that goose. I told them that was all him. They had never seen anything like that. To tell the truth, I hadn't either!

It did my heart good to see these boys get excited about goose hunting! I realized later that we don't have a season devoted to youth hunting geese as we do other species. However, it doesn't have to be "Youth Season" to take a youth hunting!

Waterfowl Hunting

Waterfowl hunting is without a doubt the most social friendly form of hunting. That being said, it is not easy. It is like playing chess, but your opponent is not just a bird. It is the instinctive behavior that God gave these creatures to survive coupled with the conditioned behavior that we instill in them. In other words, the survivors get educated. Add to this chess match of location, decoy selection, and decoy placement with the skills of calling and wing shooting, and you get a very enjoyable challenge.

I recall one middle aged man who was first introduced to duck hunting. It was a bit chilly that morning, and of course the hunting party was on the water well before dawn. The decoy spread was carefully placed while the wind was whipping the boat around. Finally the aroma of the morning coffee drowned out the stench of the bog behind them. No birds were seen early, just the beautiful sunrise in the cloudless sky. Without warning a squadron of the feathered prey swooped over the decoys from behind. The morning stillness was disrupted by the sound of the barrels hurling their steel shot. Three green heads lay upside down in the water. The group barely was reloaded when a flock of teal buzzed through. Another salvo erupted and two green wing teal joined the mallards on the lake. Moments later a pair of wood ducks coasted in and the rookie duck hunter marked his first score! High fives all around, and the boat owner exclaimed, "It just doesn't get any better than this!" To which the rookie replied, "Well if that is as good as it gets, you can have it." You can imagine the looks of disbelief this guy received! The truth is waterfowl hunting is not for everyone.

I took my son deer hunting, turkey hunting, squirrel hunting, and waterfowl hunting as he grew up. One morning I put him and his friend in a deer blind that was in a great location. I gave him my crossbow and bolts. I had to leave for awhile. "Text me if you need anything", I whispered. At 9:00 AM I received a text from him, "Come and get us!" In my excitement I asked, "Did you kill a buck?" He replied, "No. We are out of arrows!" Well, these two boys certainly enjoyed themselves, but my son still preferred waterfowling. "I don't have to be quiet when we duck hunt, and I can eat!" Spoken like a true boy!

While I was sharing pictures of a goose hunt with some friends, an acquaintance walked up and said, "I didn't know you duck hunted." We had quite a conversation about the sport during which he shared that what he likes best is being able to talk, laugh, eat and run a heater unlike other pursuits.

Getting back to the "chess match", it begins in the summer as decoys are painted or replaced. New lines need to be tied on and the latest mojo or swimmer is added to the spread. Our group has gone to all Herter style foam decoys. We also have some corks. The reason is that they are large and their density allows them to float so realistically in the water. It really makes a difference in choppy water. Scouting is another important component in the game. Let's face it. We are all much better callers when we are in the field, point or bay that the birds want to use! Once you find where the birds are, you need to conceal yourself. Concealment also needs to start in the off season. Building a good blind can include the need for comfort and to not "stick out like a sore thumb". Most well concealed blinds are built using existing vegetation to help it disappear. Boat blinds are commonly a necessity. The Avery quick set is my favorite, with modifications. I wrote a blog entitled, "Avery Quick Set Blind -ways to improve it", I refer you to that if you are interested. The advantage to a boat blind is that you can change position as the wind changes. Ideally we want to hunt with the wind and sun at our back in a place where we are well hidden. An experienced waterfowler knows that birds prefer to land into the wind. Ducks or geese coming straight in at you gives you the best shot. It works well if they don't see you. Some times we may have to settle for a cross wind because of concealment or because you don't have permission to be in the ideal position. That is another consideration. There have been a few times when the wind, sun and hiding place were all wrong, but I got ducks anyway because I was right where they wanted to be. Another consideration is the species of blocks to use. When we hunt our favorite lake we like to have goose, puddle duck and diver decoys. We shoot mostly puddle ducks as in mallards, blacks, woodies and teal, but occasionally some bufflehead or ringnecks will find their way over our fakes. We also shoot redheads, cans, scaup and others, but mostly the aforementioned duo. Geese are also present. That being the case, we like to separate the geese and puddle ducks with a landing area or "hole" in between. A diver line is usually placed outside the rest of the spread leading to the outermost puddle duck. The reason for this is that divers will follow the line until it ends and try to land on the upwind side. Snow geese also do this. Puddle ducks and Canada geese will land short of the mass in a opening, if provided.

Once you have selected your decoys and decided where you need to hide, the next chess move is the decoy position. My favorite decoy arrangement for puddle ducks is a "V" with a group at the apex of the V placed slightly upwind in a cross wind situation. As the ducks attempt to land, I want the landing area to be in front of the boat. I like the mojos in the near line of the "V" to pull the ducks closer. Another arrangement that works well for changing wind directions is a two group spread. I place one to the right of the boat and one to the left, leaving a gap as a "hole" for them to land. Two friends of mine learned a valuable lesson about a "hole" or landing zone. They were set up in a pretty good location, but one flock of mallards after another circled and flared off. "I don't get it", Randy said. "Well, you kept filling in the 'hole' as I was putting out decoys!" replied Matt. As soon as he heard, "I've never been a big fan of a 'hole'. I just like to spread them out." Matt was moving decoys. After the "hole" was created, the birds finished their descent and limits were filling up!

A friend of mine showed me a trick. We were hunting from a blind that I constructed. Our shots were long the second week, because the birds were a little "blind shy". We had a light wind that day, so Larry adjusted the "hole" in the shape of an "S". This cause the birds to maneuver through the dekes and not pay attention to the blind. I was shocked, but it worked!

I rarely target divers, but when I do, I use a "J" spread. The divers will follow the straight line of the "J" and try to land on the upwind side of the hook where most of the decoys are. Divers are best hunted on a point of land or from a layout boat.

Another enjoyable aspect of waterfowl hunting for me is training and hunting my dog. My dogs and I always develop a close bond both in training and the hunt.

I have not even touched on the skills of calling and shooting. The point is that there is quite a bit to duck hunting. Socializing is certainly a plus, but experiencing the outdoors, the wildlife, the breaking new day and the hunt makes waterfowling dear to my heart. I enjoy hunting deer, turkey and pheasants, but I will always be first and foremost a waterfowl hunter.

My First Snow Goose Hunt Part 2

We headed back to Illinois without two of our comrades. The bad part about that is twofold. One, we were missing our friends, and secondly with a smaller party we were likely to share the pit with another group. When you hunt with strangers you are rolling the dice. It could be a good experience or really bad!

We were determined, whatever our fate, we were going to have a good time! The first challenge to our resolve came slightly more than three hours into our trip. Upon return from our first bathroom break, I got the news from Randy. "I forgot my gun. Did you bring an extra gun? We could turn around!" I looked at him in disbelief, then I turned and looked at Matt in the back seat, "So much for your theory that we can at least count on Randy to bring his gun and his ammo!" We all laughed. I informed my forgetful fellow hunter that I brought my SBE-2, and he was welcome to use it, but there was no way in hell we were turning around! I was debating on whether to shoot the 3 1/2 12 gauge with the magazine extender or my SP-10. I guess my decision was made. Five hours later, we pulled into the parking lot in Anna, Illinois following a pick uptruck with Michigan plates. We didn't know it at the time, but these folks would be our companions for the next two days.

We parked behind the barn like we did last week, and hurried in to find a bed. The group from Michigan was straggling behind as they attempted to stretch their legs and gain their bearings. I couldn't help but notice that they had a woman with them. Good luck, I thought. As the lodge door opened I noticed that the odor reminded me of a college dorm room! I wasn't sure why, but it was very different from last week. Upon entering the living room, I could see the game of beer pong being played by three guys who looked to be in their early twenties. They were "well oiled", as it were, as in, "feeling no pain".

The last thing I wanted to deal with at 10:00 PM was three drunks. We found Jay and he pointed us to our sleeping quarters. As we walked back down the hallway, I met the fatherly figure of the Michigan crew. "Hi, are you guys from Michigan?" I inquired. "Sure are!" "Well you might as well turn around, 'cause you can't stay here!" I could not say that without laughing! I believe his name was Mike, replied, "Let me guess, you're from Ohio!" "You guessed, it!" The rivalry never takes a holiday! It was all in good fun! I was wondering how a lady (Mike's daughter, Sarah) was going to throw a Monkey wrench into the shower and restroom facilities. However, I was impressed. Sarah was quite a trooper. She showered and did her thing, never asked for special consideration or accommodations. I say that, but we were all respectful of her presence. It worked out well.

As for the drunks, they were quiet drunks! We settled in, and they settled down. What started out looking like a disastrous situation, became a peaceful and harmonious evening. Gunner crawled up on the bed next to me and it was lights out.

The next morning we checked in with Rex, met our guide, Rocky, and headed 25 miles southeast to our pit blind. After unloading, Rocky took us and our gear in a side by side four wheeler to the pit. Gunner ran along behind. This time I was mindful of where the dog was with respect to the pit blind so as not to have any "tiger traps" for Gunner to fall into. The pit was similar to the one we were in last week, but much shallower! I don't believe any of our party, except Gunner, could stand up under the ceiling! Being above average in height, at 6'5", I am used to things not being made for me. My friends were a bit miffed by the low ceiling. After some initial grumbling, we all adjusted just fine. The vertical challenge was not a deterrent to the bacon and pancake breakfast that we salivated for! It wasn't long until the pit was filled with the smell of bacon cooking on my propane camping stove. Rocky watched for birds as we poured syrup on the welcomed breakfast.

Rocky told us not to expect any birds until the rain quit. Late that morning, the rain slowed to an intermittent drizzle. Just as our guide predicted about 3,000 snow geese appeared on the horizon. Rocky turned on the calls, but we watched in disappointment as they landed across the road. "Well it looks we are going to have to compete with locals", Rocky stated what we were all thinking. The pit had a concrete divider that separated our two groups, but if you could fit through the opening you could walk its length. I preferred to yell questions to Rocky, because fitting through that gap did not look possible for me. Out of boredom, I slid under the bench and took a nap. I had not been there long when I was awakened by the sound of Rocky firing up the electronic calls. James leaned through the gap and said, "cover up". I got up as Matt was moving the cornstalks to conceal our position. Sure enough, we had geese working our spread! Suddenly, it was a tornado of snows circling then breaking formation. It was like being in a snow globe! They were everywhere! I was so excited, I had to be grinning from ear to ear. The guide was talking to us fairly loudly but with the calls going and the sound of the flock, it was difficult to hear. We had a pair fly by at 20 yards and four cross from the opposite direction at 30 yards. Awesome! Matt and I watched a flock of eight cruise in over our left shoulder at 30 yards. I looked at Rocky, but he was talking about a group in the opposite direction. He did not see our eight.  As I watched the eight coast out of our spread I heard Rocky say, "take these!" I quickly popped up out of the hole and opened fired. i was a bit surprised that Rocky called the shot on these twenty five geese at 60 yards, but here we are! I was thrilled when my 10 gauge erupted and the goose I was shooting at folded and fell from the flock, "I hit one!" I yelled. Much to my disappointment the next shot did not fire. My gun jammed. The next shell came out early and fouled the trusty semi-auto! Matt let Gunner out of the pit. He raced passed Sarah who must have rocketed out like Hussein Bolt himself. Gunner tackled my snow at 100 yards. He returned with him and pranced back and forth in front of the pit. Apparently Sarah dropped the other bird on the last shot of the volley with her 20 gauge! Wow, what a shot, right in the head!

We barely had time to recount the tale of the awesome sight when Rocky turned on the calls again. "These are going to fly right over our heads and we are going to take passing shots. They are in range!" We waited maybe 10 seconds and we stood up blazing! The SP-10 let out a thunderous eruption and my second snow goose died in flight and landed 20 feet from the pit. I was so excited I almost forgot to shoot again. Five geese in all were hit by our group and Gunner was off and running!

The happy hunters:Randy, Me, Matt and Gunner

Not only was this a darn good hunt, but a fantastic experience! If you ever get a chance to go on a spring snow goose hunt, I highly recommend it! Snowsunlimited have no idea that I write this blog, so it's not like I have any ulterior motive for plugging them. They do a great job, but next time we may go with someone else just for a different experience.

My first snow goose.

My First Snow Goose Hunt

Although I have harvested a couple Ross's geese in Texas, I had never actually been on a snow goose hunt. A few years ago I called a friend who lives in Missouri. We planned a snow goose hunt on Valentine Day weekend. The problem was that the weather was so cold and nasty that the geese had not made their way far enough north, so he snow goose hunt was scrubbed. We did get a pheasant farm hunt. That is a story that I will have to share another time!

Since that hunt I had the opportunity to go on a freelance snow goose hunt in Kansas last year. I could not match up schedules with the gang going out west, so I stayed home. The guys were on a combo canada goose and snow hunt. They shot 55 geese, only 10 were snows. Another year went by and I still did not hunt a snow goose!

Then out of the blue I got a call from Matt. "We got a guided snow goose hunt together in Illinois. Do you want to go? We are hunting with Snows Unlimited." At last! I have a chance to go on a real snow goose hunt! I was jacked with excitement! I read their entire website, and every link they provided about snow goose hunting.

As the time got closer, I checked the weather forecast daily. I packed for rain since there was a significant chance. It was supposed to be cold early which required long johns and a parka. They have lodging accommodations so bedding was not needed. Food is always important! I packed my propane stove and griddle, pancake mix, bacon and snacks. I smoked 8 pheasants, boned them out, and put them in a gallon freezer bag with BBQ sauce for lunch. Love it! We could eat dinner at a nearby restaurant.

I packed my Benelli complete with the magazine extender. I had purchased the extender previously in anticipation of such an opportunity. I also had my Remington SP 10 ready to go. This required bringing two kinds of ammo, 10 and 12 gauge.

We got a late start. It was 4:15 PM by the time we got all 5 hunters and Gunner in the Expedition. We were off to Illinois. It was about 7 and a half hours to Anna, Illinois. We arrived late that night, so we had to "sleep fast"! The lodging was good, not fancy, but at $35/night who expected the Ritz? They had a spacious living room with a TV, and there was a small kitchen. The rooms were small, but had two beds per room and were warm. The lodging was complete with indoor plumbing, two showers, towels and wash clothes. They even had a washer and dryer. All the walls were "OSB", but we certainly did not mind. Our host was friendly and helpful. After greeting us he answered our questions about how they had been doing afield. He then added, "It's a clear night and I have heard geese honking in the moon light, like that all evening!" We didn't understand the significance of his comment until later. We headed to our beds as morning was not far away. Gunner was able to sleep next to me on the floor, which he really appreciated.

We were up at 4:30 and ready to go at 5:00. After signing in and making payment, we were headed for our pit blind. I had never hunted out of a pit blind, and had no idea what to expect. Poor Gunner had no such experience either! He took a scary spill! The opening to the blind was covered in bamboo and corn stalks, disguising it from the geese. Unfortunately, the cover disguised it from Gunner as well. He walked on top and fell straight through! Scared the heck out of both of us, but he was OK! I would have stopped him but in the dark, I could not tell where the blind was. Our guide was a very nice young man, but if I had a criticism of him it would be not warning me about the danger of the pit for the dog.

The pit was spacious! They had taken old bus seats and put them in the lower level of the pit for comfort and the step up ledge to shoot from was well placed. The pit was covered with plywood to keep the rain off of us. It was an older wooden one, but I liked it! As the sun came up, we could see the spread. There were 1,800 assorted wind socks and shells with a number of floaters in the flooded corn.

 Finally, about 8:00 AM we saw geese! The electronic calls erupted and the geese locked up and floated right at us! The guide turned off the calls and we could hear the short laughs of the speckled bellies. False alarm. It was "cool" and disappointing at the same time. As the laughing geese floated over, we could see the dark dashes across their bellies.

A few moments later the calls were turned back on! "Here they come boys!" the guide shouted. I could see a long line of dots way off in the distance. The dots got larger and larger. "They ARE coming!" I said to Randy. At this point the wind picked up, and I could clearly tell that the wind was blowing the length of our pit, and I was at the upwind end. That, I knew, was not good for me. The geese would come into the wind and I wouldn't have a shot without shooting over everyone's head. The geese kept coming. Twice on approach they appeared to break up as geese do when they are ready to descend. Twice we were disappointed. With all of us watching the big flocks from between the cornstalk camo, we did not notice that a single approached from downwind. "What is it?" I heard, then, "boom, boom." The goose was hit, but not falling very fast. As the bird drifted behind the blind, I decided to add my BB's to the party! The goose fell and I assisted Gunner over the last step out of the pit. He proudly returned with his first snow goose.

The skies were clear over the next hour, so we decided to cook. Matt fired up the propane stove and in minutes the pit was filled with the sweet aroma of bacon and pancakes! Our guide, also named Matt, could not stand the olfactory overload from our breakfast, and finally succumbed to the invitation to join us. I had the pancake batter already mixed together in a half gallon juice jug. It works well. We were able to drive within 50 yards of the pit so cooler, stove, guns and ammo were no problem transporting.

Aside from an occasional small group of specks, the day was fairly quiet until late afternoon. Just after everyone had feasted on my smoked pheasant, we were alerted by the electronic snow goose alarm that bids had once again been sighted. It was almost a carbon copy of the first sighting. Several times it looked like they were breaking up to come in, but didn't. Just like before, as we had our eyes trained on the big flock, a lone goose sneaked in from downwind. This time Mike fired one round from the opposite end of the pit, and gunner collected his first blue goose.

We saw a few more flocks lift up from a nearby refuge, only to watch them sit back down within the refuge. The day ended without a snow goose for yours truly, but I did "go snow goose hunting"! On our way back to the lodge the obvious questions came up; Is tomorrow going to be this bad? Why was today so bad? Were we in a bad location? Upon our return, we discovered that we were one of three out of five pits that shot any snows! The owner offered several explanations as to why the birds didn't move. The one that made the most sense was that they flew last night by the full moon. That is what the gentleman at the lodge was trying to tell us last night. Goose hunting on a full moon after a clear night is bad!

Rex, one of the owners, was gracious enough to allow us to return the next week. These guys are a class act! We are leaving tomorrow, and we hope for more geese in the cooler. I can't say it was a bad hunt though. We had a good time and we were comfortable. Looking forward to my first snow goose hunt part 2!

Duck Blind Anticipation

It was an early Kansas morning, well before sunrise. We put the boat in the water at same place we used on our scouting trip the day before. It should not have been surprising, but we could not get over how dark it was! What little moon we had was hidden behind cloud cover and there was nothing on this stretch of water to provide any light at all. Luckily, I had the sense to use my GPS to trace our travels the day before. I had a spot light, but everything looked so different in the dark! The spot light pierced through the darkness like a knife, if only to provide tunnel vision in the black expanse. I honestly had never navigated primarily with a GPS unit. I should mention that the manufacturers warn not to do that as you open the screen. Well, let me tell you, I was darn glad to have it with me! There was tension in the air as our spotlight and flashlights hopelessly search for landmarks and danger.

Slowly we made our way to our target location. Our decoys were strategically deployed, and our guns were loaded. I breathed a sigh of relief that we found it and that we were set up by "shooting time". We had not seen a duck in the air since the sunlight began to flood the region at the magical 30 minutes before sun up. It was time for the traditional morning Pop Tart. I opened the package and glanced at my two comrades. Both of them were leaning forward, guns tightly gripped, quietly tense with the anticipation of the first feathered visitor. It was 7:39 AM. The stench of the swamp water was hardly appetizing, but I didn't want to break tradition and jinx our hunt! So of course I had to sink my teeth into one of my favorite brown sugar pastries. I looked to the stern and there was my lab, Gunner, also at attention, scanning the area for birds. He knew what we were here for!

Just then I heard Randy whisper, "There's three overhead." The onslaught of duck calling broke the silence. I was not fooled by the three mallards trying to distract us. It seems that every time we stare at a flock that we think might come in, we will have some visitors fly in over the spread. Sure enough a small squadron of dinners banked hard outside our decoys. One of the smaller ducks turned our way. It cupped right into the gap in the decoys we created as a landing zone. I quickly threw my gun to my shoulder and my Benelli barked loudly. Splash! The first duck of the morning was taken. Fetch'em up I commanded and Gunner was air-born! Gunner retrieved my first widgeon of the trip, a beautiful drake! The anticipation was over and the hunt was on!

During the next 20 minutes the shooting was fast and furious! Both Gunner and his Dad, Hunter, were busy as multiple ducks hit the water from several flocks. Hunter has a nick name, "Sleepy", because later in the day we commonly have to wake him up to tell him that there is an opportunity to retrieve. In his defense, he is nine and a half years old. After the "death wish" ducks poured into the spread of decoys, and the sun rose in the sky, it was a little tougher to get a shot. The ducks were circling, closer and closer and closer. This provided duck blind anticipation part two! Here was our group again anxiously anticipating the deadly mistake by one of these flocks. A different kind of anticipation. Then suddenly, swish, here they come! Without seeing the feathered invaders, I heard the unmistakable sound of their wings as they banked in from around the corner. That was all the warning I needed! It was identification on the fly! Bang and a beautiful green winged teal spiraled to join the fish. There is nothing quite like the anticipation in a duck blind, especially when you know they are coming, but you're not sure when or from where!

Green Wing Teal