Been a tough several weeks. Work has been intense, getting ready for the SHOT Show in Las Vegas, and then the hunting – not only suffering from my busy schedule, but the times out were slow and tough… all making for a generally exhausting January. A month of 60 hour work weeks, and what time afield I could manage (while always appreciated) was full of cold, featherless, and frustratingly empty skies. I returned from Vegas and a… let’s say challenging SHOT Show – to a nightmare situation at work – a story for another time. Combine that with the flu-buggy-sickness that follows many home from trade shows like this, and I ended this past week pretty much physically – and mentally – done. I had nothing left in the tank.
The thing is, that type of stuff rarely keeps me from working – the being sick part. But this particular brand of running-into-a-brick-wall required some fresh, clean air. I needed the kind of relax and recharge that only comes from being outside, in my element. I needed wind, wings, and a little Kansas sunrise therapy to clear my head. And I needed it bad.
Like, sick-day-play-hooky bad. I’m not a pat-myself-on-the-back-kinda guy, but I’d like to think if my boss stumbled onto this and saw I was out hunting after calling in sick, well, he’d probably understand, maybe even agree that I needed a day to recover. I know I would.
So Friday would be my day to call in sick – to recharge the batteries and escape. And it just so happened that my go to bro Nick had a hot spot nailed down – open water, lots of birds in the area, an unusually warm day coming… something representing more than just a hunt; this was therapy, the perfect prescription for what ailed me.
The morning started off with us pulling up to the pond and being greeted by 80-100 of our closest friends, out on the edge of the ice, just holding down the fort for us. We expressed our appreciation and sent them on their way, with high hopes we’d meet again very, very soon.
Once the sun decided to bring the day forward, in grand and glorious fashion, the geese were not far behind. With consistent movement throughout the morning, we were never really at a loss for entertainment. It did, however, take some time to get the logistics of our situation figured out. You see, we were on the west side of a pond, facing into an east wind. birds had to literally come over us and sit right in front – not optimal, but with ice, we had no other choice. This made the first few groups awkward and challenging.
But once we figured it out, it was game on. With four of us, we were able to each of us shoot a limit in less than two hours time. It was fast and fun, with birds showing up from our blind spot and just dropping in on us. Made for a unique and interesting hunt. Not great for taking pictures, but exciting nonetheless.
One of the highlights was a group of swans who worked the decoys for a couple passes, giving me a couple chances to sneak pics in. I’ve been dying to get some close enough to photograph. This was my best chance to date. I was jumping around and giggling like a little girl. Seriously, I was.
The first finale was a 5 bird volley that put us at 22 birds. A little drama in the ice during the retrieve, resulting in cold wet clothes for someone, pretty much meant the end of this outstanding hunt. We pulled the trucks down, started picking up, and were literally completely packed except for 3 full bodies yet to grab off of the ice, when (the true finale) we heard the honk, looked up, and saw a group locked up. Gary and I still had one each to finish, and I was in the blind with one foot out of waders, the other just in socks on the cold blind floor. Gary passed me my gun from outside, grabbed his, and we watched, amazingly, as a group of 10-15 geese, I think it was, finished – with two trucks, two guys outside of the blind, two dogs, decoy bags everywhere… a total mess. We each shot, but nothing fell immediately. We watched as the group sailed out over the pasture, and as fate would have it, two dropped on the other side of the pond – away from the rapidly rotting ice. Perfect.
High fives, dance moves that only come out on occasions such as four-man limits, and even plans to celebrate with a beer and lunch were all shared with much joy. This was the best day – at least for me – in a season that has had more than a few challenges. And it could not have come at a better time.
I picked the right day to play hooky, no question. I got exactly what I needed; a little time for the soul to breathe. Now, if I can shake this damned flu thing…
