Tomorrow, I turn the big 24. Unfortunately, I cant celebrate how i'd like by going hunting as I've got to work, so Today was my birthday present to myself.
4:00 am Wake up
brew coffee
get dressed
load truck
4:45 am Leave for the WMA'
drive for what seems an absurdly long time through fog
Stop off at Allsup's on 377 for some mornin' burritos
5:15 am arrive at WMA drop in
walk through a path i've walked many times before. (Glad I picked a firmilliar area to hunt, especially in the fog)
In the blind on time, I put the decoys out. Wind coming out of the south east over my shoulder, I J hook a few little families of decoys. Time to sit back, dry off, and pour a cup of coffee; a little Colombia to warm up my bones on a dreary morning.
The fog; Thick enough to cut. The Wind, just right. Could be a tad colder I thought, as my cup of coffee ran dry. About 5 minutes after my last sip of my first cup, a buzzing from my phone alarm; Shooting time in 2 minutes. Gun ready....
Nothing...
Nothing......
*ZZZZZZZZZZOOOOOOOOOOOOOooooommmmmmm* big flock, 20 Pintails/aggregate go flying by... Heard them before I saw them... and gone in the fog. Oh well.. Morning feels promising.
*Zoom* one pair fly in, swing, miss.. one pair fly out.
5 minutes later: *zoom*.... small flock of 5 fly in... swing and a Hit, feathers everywhere, Nothing falls out of the sky and they all fly away... OK what gives... (after a thourough inspection of my gun, Benelli isnt to blame...)
5 minutes later, *CRAAAASH*.... 8 Canvas backs land about 10 yards out side of range... Waiting for them to swim into the decoys.... **ZOOM** two pintails Hail mary through the blocks, STUPID ME, I forgo the can's, swing at the Pins, FEATHERS EVERYWHERE... Kevlar suit must have been on, And they all fly away laughing...
Well.. at least my hike home will be lighter.
Needing to calm down, I pour another cup of brew and relax a bit. I hear the swatting of a pair of wings in the distance, ready my gun, Toot the kazoo for posterity, and the lil' buggar just drops right in to say hi!
SWING and a HIT... One crack-shot and the bird is dead as can be, not a kick from him for the rest of the day. Cool. Ringbill.. Guess he's going in some broth.
Bored after 20 mins of nothing, I decide to leave my blind and go for a walk. I walk down the bank a few hundred of yards and find a sandbar uncovered because the lake has went down some. I walk out on it, Scare away a pelican and hear... You guessed it... Wing Swatting and what sounds like a tiny jet soaring in to my decoys, a ways away. Crapola. I turn around, and something about my decoys didnt seem quite right, so he hightailed it out of there...
IN my direction. Oh yeah... Sweet. Straight at me at bullet speed, I give him a yell on the Tooter, and he flares, I take a shot, BAM, he's down, and hits the North bank with a nice thud. A quick ring of the neck and he was a goner. Sweet. Another duck... a Ringer, again. Looks like soup's on the menu..
I walk back to the blind, 2 crack-shots, 2 ducks... Maybe I just need to take a xanax before I hunt.. and not get so darn trigger happy.
an hour or so later... maybe 9:45 or so, The rain starts to come down. The fog has turned, officially into a rolling bowl of soup. I'm about to pack up, and ONCE MORE, Swatting of wings. Patient as I am, He flies right over me.
Swing and a HIT!... Feathers
Swing and a Hit... rock'n'roll... still flying.. Ok now what gives.... last rock I can throw at him, a 3&1/2 incher...
BLAMO! out of the sky he falls.. not quite dead, but lands in some THICK brush about 20 yards behind me... Great.. time to go hiking. leaving the gun at the blind, I hike back and search for 10 minutes, when I almost step on him.. The little bugger growls at me, and starts running away.. Now folks, a small duck can run faster through bullreeds and headache trees than I can... and man was it a chase. Back and forth some 3 or 4 times, till I got fed up and he got tired. Let's just say, He's a fighter.. took more than a few neck ringings to get him cold. Another Ringbill. Another soup duck.
So, with that, Miserable weather and all, I pack up my goods, put away my soggy decoys who's salespitch was "come stay a while".. and march through the fog, the marsh, the bog, and the field until I come back up on the truck. 3 birds isnt bad. Maybe If i had some patients I'd have limited!
