Bailey's has always been a great place to bring the kids and catch the occasional waldo, but with some scouting a few days prior, I discovered a plethora of birds using the two lakes. We found a good spot to potentially decoys some birds as well as catch any divers flipping between the two bodies of water. What made this area a bit more difficult to hunt compared to some of our other spots, was the depth of the lake near the shoreline. We were only able to get our decoys out from the shoreline about 30 feet. This was less than ideal, but we were totally flying by the seat of our pants anyway.
In short time, we figured out that this hunt was going to be a little more difficult than anticipated. The birds were coming from all directions and it was borderline impossible to anticipate a shot. It didn't take long after legal light for me to take my first bluebill. With a blistering rip of a passing shot, I was able to drop it in the lake behind me. With a little guidance, I was able to get Lou on the bird for the retrieve. Not long after, Dad and I were able to do the same thing with a passing canvasback. It took four shots to bring it down but we were able to get a bird in hand.
With some repositioning in my part, as the birds were skirting to the south, Lou and I were on the pass-watch. At one point Dad missed a decoying bluebill because his gun jammed, but redeemed himself when I heard a single shot, and a stone-dead bluebill dropped from the sky and landed feet in front of Lou and myself.
After that shot and some subsequent gun emptying, it was discovered that Dad was having some gun troubles. He was basically handling a single shot. While he was over near my hide and I was assisting him with gun repairs, a flock of swans appeared across the lake. Now, my fall had gotten the best of me a few times and even though I had drawn the tag, AND had it with me, I was convinced the season had not started yet. I could not open my phone and look it up fast enough. When the flock passed off to our south at a mere 50 yards, I did the only thing I could do; I didn't shoot. Not memorizing the date of my season was my fault, and not pulling the trigger was my penance. Hindsight was the season had opened two weeks prior...
While Dad worked on his gun, I ran back to the top of the hill where the car was parked for more bullets, as I had exhausted my supply and was dipping into Dad's. While Lou and I headed back down to our hide, another flock made the same path as the swans, only thing time it was honkers. They were a little higher, but on my third shot, I was able to scrape one down and watch it drop into the lake behind me. While Lou and I went for the retrieve, I almost got her to retrieve her first goose. She even went as far as to grab ahold of it, turn and start swimming back, before she realized it was a goose and not a duck. SO CLOSE.....
By the time we made it back to Dad, it was determined that his gun issue was not going to be a field fix. This issue was going to take a gunsmith though we both did not know what the issue was exactly. With one last swig of decaf and a few photos, we concluded another beautiful fall day.
Stay Tuned
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