Wed Dec 04, 2013 11:57 pm
A smart person would take hints, but being waterfowlers who spend way too much money for little birds, I don't think many of us take too kindly to those indicators.
The day started out snowy (I know, shocking). I hop in my car and quickly realize that my new tires are complete garbage in this weather. I call Bill and ask if he is ok with driving instead of taking my little Saturn and ending up in a ditch and he was fine with that. I slide my way to meet up with him and we set off for Rochester. Ten minutes south, the snow is no more and it's just rain...
We make it down to our meeting location and get acquainted. As we head out to the field we manage to find the one icy road in Rochester and 3 of the trucks in the convoy got awful squirrely but luckily nothing happened. We setup the decoys and hop into the blind. As I was getting my things organized I hear someone say "somebody better shoot that one". I hear shots and look up and all I see are feathers floating in the air. I never saw the bird, but some one dropped it.
The fog was pretty thick, but not horrible and it drizzled and rained all day. We had many, many birds check us out, with quite a few circling us multiple times. What were they looking for or what didn't they like? Who knows (or obviously we would have changed it). At one point I'm certain we had over 100 birds checking us out but no dice. Watching all these birds and not shooting gets you cold however which is when Walker decided to light the heater, right under the arm board. Once we had convinced the guide that we realized what was happening and had remedied the situation so he didn't need to break out the fire extinguisher, it was back to watching birds. Nothing more wanted to play and a little before noon the guys from sconnie packed it in and I guess Walker had enough of us and took off as well. Watching all those birds can be hard work so the guys from the other pit and the guides headed into town for lunch while Bill, duck smuggler and myself continued our punishment in the blind. At least the rain was stopping for now. We heard a flock behind us and duck smuggler and I broke out the calls to try our luck.
Success!
Well, kinda. The birds finished exactly like they should have, we just didn't finish the birds like we should have. Out of I think 7, we dropped one. Apparently we all decided to aim at the same bird first because it got peppered with their shots, and the bird I was aiming at dropped before I could shoot.
Anyways, it feels good to at least shoot, and getting them in like that raises the confidence. We wait around watching the skies with a new hope and right as the guys are getting back from lunch another flock decides to check us out. We get them to head our way before they realize there are trucks next to the blinds and guys getting out of them. So much for that flock.
After that we let the guides do their thing but any birds that were now flying knew where they were going.
Overall, it was pretty fun. Sitting in a pit with a heater and a lid over your head to keep you warm and dry is pretty nice. It was good to meet Bill Gilbertson, duck smuggler, and Walker.
Another time gentlemen, and hopefully my jinx will have lifted by then to end the hunting misadventures with goldfish.
Sent from a phancy fone
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