With some options in my pocket for the weekend I had somewhat of a plan, but I never got the chance to try them. After a long day at work, mostly planting trees three hours away, I came home on Thursday to Rachel full-fetal on the couch. I knew that face, and I feared we were headed back to the ER again. I did whatever I could to help, but nothing seemed to improve the situation. At about 10:30pm, I had had enough; it was time to go. I was letting dogs out one last time when the retching started. We had probably waited too long....
With our frequently fliers club card we were greeted like family at the midnight ER. With some concerning numbers, we were eventually transferred to the hospital overnight. What pain Rachel was in subsided by 1am. We spent Thursday, all of Friday, and most of Saturday in that damn hospital room, and honestly, it was bullshit. They had no reason to hold us Friday night, and even said so, they just "forgot" to order the antibiotics Rachel needed. It didn't help that the m-urse we had was a complete gomer...
I. Hate. Hospitals.
By late afternoon Saturday, we were finally freed from that sterile prison! With an afternoon to get a few groceries, and chill at home, I was about ready to burst out of my own skin. Rachel granted me freedom for hunting Sunday.
Somewhere during our stay in the hellspital, I took a break to find Rachel something to do, and find myself some none-shit food. During that break, one of Rachel's producers called me with a request: put some pressure on the geese hitting one of their fields.
How often does the producer call you to hunt their fields?????
I would oblige.
I scouted the field Saturday evening, and loved what I saw, and was geared up and ready for Sunday morning. What turned out to be a quiet, foggy and frosty morning, only added to the magic. Lou and I set out our decoys and buried ourselves into our makeshift blind as best as possible, and waited for something to happen.
At first light I was astounded as to the show that started. We had mallards pouring into our set faster than I had ever seen. Lou was past the point of inconsolable and I literally had to squeeze her between my knees to keep her from bolting. Once there was a moment where I could know what I was shooting at, and it was ten minutes into legal shooting time, I let-er bark!
I could not load my gun fast enough. My first the ducks took less than six minutes and that was because I realized I could pick greenheads. The last flock that came too close, were right over my mojo at 15 yards. Three shots, three mallards, and my duck hunt was over in less than 20 minutes.
I proceeded to watch as birds worked my spread for the next two hours.
Even though there were plenty of geese in the area, the local honkers were having none of my setup. I can't really blame them as hot steel will make anyone a little edgy.
I had a few chances at speckle-bellies, but I was just not getting the job done. These are notoriously difficult to decoy in the fall, and this was no exception. The birds I had chances at were just close enough in passing to throw some steel at, but again, no dice. When I was finally cold enough, and the goose thing did not seem to be panning out all that well, I pulled the plug and we called it a day.
What was supposed to be a goose hunt turned into one of the most insane mallard hunts of my life. All I could think of the whole time I was out there was how much I wanted Dad in on this. We had a whacked out mallard shoot years ago with Uncle Al that we never thought in a million years we could surpass in epic-ness, and this was that caliber of hunt.
Before this fall is over, I will get Dad out here. Hopefully the birds cooperate.
Stay Tuned
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