Goose Hunting & 360*

Out of nowhere my ears alert me to the incoming honks and grunts of a flock of Canada geese. These are the Giant Canada Geese, the biggest and weighing up to 20 lbs. with a wing span of 7 feet. My eyes widen like those of a 4 year old on Christmas morning watching them land in a large field just a short distance away.

Considering how many degrees of departure are available for geese, it is no wonder that we seldom outsmart them. The odds are stacked in their favor and double that in mild conditions when they're not pressured by weather, predators or food. I'm talking about pulling off a successful stalk hunt; sneaking close to geese that are feeding in a large wide open field with a 360* view. It's one thing to be able to get in close while hiding behind an elevated dike and then wait while maintaining your concealment and excitement. The anticipation is often what busts us. Usually I'll be able to hear them talking and stretching their wings and just have to take that last fatal peek, to make sure they're where I think they are. In doing so there's a pair of wise old sentry eyes pasted to the rustling sounds I made while trying to be ever so stealthy. By the time I see them they've been watching me, head and neck stretched up high and then honking alerts the others that it’s time to fly. At the first loud alarm honk, you become painfully aware you just blew any chance you had of them flying anywhere remotely in range. You're toast, pate', done for, game over and you can't believe you did it again.

 I've experienced this on more than one occasion and I know there will be more jaw dropping days of getting skunked, with my so called savvy experience and knowledge of 35 plus years hunting geese. None of that matters when ultimately you are making an educated guess, a hypothesis on the direction they will depart. I was able to even the score by one, a few weeks ago down in the Klamath Basin of S.W. Oregon.

The conditions were warm and mild with very little breeze, just a hint of wind from the S.W. rolling over the banks of the Klamath River. Ice still covered the broader reaches of the river where there was less current. I was watching a flock of 15 or so large Canada Geese land in a 40 acre field of stubble with a strip of Triticale grain to their N.E., I pondered the various scenarios and odds for a successful sneak. Also trying to guess in which direction they'd take off. I was observing them from the comfort of the cabin on the hill overlooking the landscape. My adrenaline began as I visualized a successful sneak, wait I haven't even gotten properly dressed and I'm already celebrating. Whoa, slow down and let's get back to reality.

 Considering it was New Year’s Eve the geese were well educated to slow moving vehicles, bad decoys, bad calling and the like. I knew I had to be absolutely concealed and quiet from the very beginning. So I opted to take the long way around. I didn't let them see or hear me from the hill. Fortunately my truck was on the opposite side of the cabin from where they were feeding. I drove a short distance down the back side of the hill and then parked, quietly shutting the truck door and beginning my long approach. In all it was close to a 2 mile walk give or take, but when you're sneaking, it doesn't seem so far or matter. I headed S.S.W. to the river cutting across 2 fields, 2 deep ditches and getting to the river dike then turning back to the N. on my final approach to the dike that separates them from me. The fields were muddy, wet and sloppy so I wore my Cabela's waders and dressed light underneath to minimize sweating and then chilling while I waited for the geese to get air born. It was early afternoon and the clouds were building in and a S. wind was picking up. Finally a storm is rolling in. I managed to make my way to where I wanted to be. I thought the geese would either fly S.W.N. or E. Face it, no matter how much I tried to convince myself that I knew what direction they would take off in, ultimately I had no clue or scientific knowledge to base my decision on. The landscape offered me a few options of concealment that would allow me to be in range if they happened to fly near me. That was my scientific data, place hunter and gun in closest proximity of airborne waterfowl, always.

So it was and I just hunkered in and made myself comfortable for a spell, not knowing just how long that meant. I ate a good stout brunch after my morning hunt and  enjoyed several cups of strong coffee. That last cup may pose a problem in the not so distant future, if you get my drift. And as those of you know it's typical of geese, or big game to give you a shot opportunity when you are least prepared, as in relieving yourself. Just an FYI for those of you who haven't had this experience yet, believe  me it will happen.

 As I was relaxing, lying on my side in the mud and weeds my mind began to wander as it does when I'm in the field waiting for something to make its move. Off in the distance I hear dogs across the river barking, and the rumble of the train some 10 plus miles to the East of me headed for who knows where? Swoosh, I get passed over by an unsuspecting Northern Harrier as he/she hunts for rodents. The distant vocals of Ravens, Magpies and Kingfishers fill my background with familiar sounds like that of an old friend, comforting me and offering a sort of companionship. My focus drifts to the vegetation at the edge of my hunting caps bill. Watching small spiders climb the tall stalks of dead grass while simultaneously snuggling down into my high coat collar so none get to close. I can hear several voles gnashing root stalk just inches away from me. Occasionally I catch a glimpse of a vole crossing open ground going from one tunnel to another. The dike tops are riddled with vole trails and holes. They're vulnerable to hawks and small mammals when they dash above ground, and they know it too.  I ponder what their existence must be like and the myriad of tunnels they travel. My attention shifts to my shotgun barrel, the vent rib, the small brass bead at the barrels end and I trace it back to the fore-end, the silver floral engraving along the sides of the action. Feeling how my hand fits the wooden pistol grip with its fine checkering. Reflecting on all the miles I have travelled carrying this gun in my hands. We are old friends and have had some spectacular days afield together. It feels comfortable in my grip and if I could find another just like it I'd buy it in a heartbeat! This gun is close to 35 years old and has some dings and dents to show for the miles we’ve travelled. It has saved my butt on more than one occasion. Be it getting stuck in the muck or avoiding a face plant in a ditch with 2 feet of water or the time I almost broke my leg by stepping in a hole. Then there are the times it got used as a paddle when I broke mine or the time I used it to break ice so I could reach a downed Canvasback. The stories go on and I take comfort in its toughness and dependability.

Honk, wing flaps pushing air and a few more grunts and short calls. I am present again and shuffle my body to get comfortable and re-positioned in case the geese are close to lift off. I want to sneak a peek but I resist and just about that time I hear the unmistakable swooshes of air from the big birds wings propelling them upward into the sky. I shuffle once more hearing them talk and it sounds like they're coming my way. Again I resist exposing myself just yet, my pulse quickens and I feel the warm flush of adrenaline. Another 10 seconds and I can see them coming into view through the vegetation just off to my right side. The first bunch are about 10 strong and I stretch my torso upward into a kneeling position and shoulder my gun taking aim on the closest and as I squeeze off my first shot my coat collar interferes with my shot. I lower my gun grabbing my collar and stuffing it downward without thinking about it and get ready for a second shot. Irritated with myself for making that mistake I block it out of my mind and get ready for the second wave, the last chance for success and these are closer than the first. Not enough time to put in another shell so I have one chance left. I take aim and swing through leading on the closest one to me about 35 yards away. I squeeze the trigger, and continue my follow through, it's a solid hit I just knew it, yet the big goose doesn't even budge or pucker an inch. I lower my gun and exclaimed "you've got to be kidding me!" Totally and absolutely dumbfounded by the lack of response I got from a solid hit I hold on for the faintest of possibilities. My eyes are glued to the goose and it slowly starts to drift away from the others and at the same time locks its wings and is on a death glide. I only hope it lands in the field and doesn't make it to the river. I watch as it continues to drop lower and closer to the ground eventually landing. I am running as fast as I can in chest high waders through 6" of mud and uneven stubble. After about 100 yards I was out of wind and kept up a fast walk while never taking my eyes off where I had marked the goose’s landing.  Eventually I get to within range and am ready to shoot if he tries to take off. He never did, he was stone cold dead at my arrival with wings outstretched to either side, and head down in the muck. I was thrilled, relieved and impressed at the size of this Canada goose. He was huge and a part of me was thankful to have just the one to carry back to the truck. He almost made it to the river another 30 yards and I might be telling a different story.

I picked him up by his neck and felt his warmth and how heavy he is. I suspect a good 15 lbs. maybe more. After a moment or two of admiring him and realizing I'd just pulled it off, I gently swung him over my left shoulder and began the walk back to my truck. I feel the sweat trickling down my back and my face from beneath my cap. I unzip my coat and base layer to dissipate some excess heat. Soon I am sweating from head to toe and smiling every step of the way. Feeling my left hamstring from my run and hoping it's just a temporary strain. There's nothing like lying on the cold ground for extended periods of time in a less than comfortable position on wet vegetation and feeling your core temp drop, slowly pulling the heat away from your extremities. Then in a flash having to bolt upright and start sprinting. Your running feels more like your legs are encased in concrete, lacking fluidity and warmth. This is entirely muscle memory and desire driving you. Your breathing becomes heavy and labored soon realizing you have to slow the pace down. You've waited patiently and the last thing you'll let happen now is for that goose to get away because you were to cold, stiff or slow to reach it in time. You dig deep because you owe it to that bird and you’re not going to let some old coyote have an easy meal on your watch if you can help it.

Going over in my mind what just transpired and how the story will unfold as I share it with my friends. It all moves so fast in my mind yet it took several hours for it to unfold in real time. There are so many pieces to a hunt I savor each moment like it’s the last one. I do my best to absorb all the little nuances of being out there hunkered in against a wet muddy cold dike in the dead of winter. How the mud smells and the odor of wet grasses blown over by driving winds, rain and snow, the tiny insects that live in the dank vegetation and the rodents who thrive underneath the surface.  I wonder what they think if anything, when they feel us walking on the dirt over their tunnels. Perhaps it’s not worth the time for them to give it a thought. I cherish my time in the field and realize that I'm  just a visitor and though I am most comfortable out there I know well I cannot truly call it home. Not like that of the wild creatures that give me reason to return and match wits with. I am not equipped to call it home and so the quest of hunter and the hunted will continue far beyond my years. Enjoying the successes as well as the disappointments for they are all parts of what we call hunting and the 360* of possibilities.

Women's Hunting Journal  Integrity For The Hunt

First Goose Hunt Of The Season

While I have been working various odd jobs this summer, one of which has been weed eating for some friends who live just outside Bend. I know this landscape well for it is within a stones throw of my old stomping grounds. During the days I was working I had been keeping a watchful eye on the Canada Geese in the adjacent pasture. They started out as small fuzzy awkward goslings and have become full fledged manure spreaders and eaters of fresh grass shoots. Thus leaving the neighbors cattle less than thrilled, not to mention the owners. Ah a sigh of relief washes over me as I here my friend say "you're welcome to come shoot some if you like". My eyes must have lit up like saucers as my friend smiled and nodded in agreement. "Really" I said, "that would be o.k. with you"? She assured me indeed it was. I asked about her neighbors whose pasture the geese were residing on and she encouraged me to talk with them and so I did. They are very nice neighbors and certainly interested in getting the geese to reside elsewhere. I mainly wanted to introduce myself and make sure they were o.k. with me shooting as well as for me to recover a goose if it went on their property. Yes to all the above, in fact the wife also hunted with her dad when she was a young girl and enjoys eating geese too. I told them I'd drop off a goose to them after the mornings hunt and they were excited to fire up the Traeger and smoke the goose whole. I felt my body heave a big sigh of envy with the thought of a Traeger smoked Canada goose. I can only imagine how good that will taste. Alright, another savings fund has started for my own Traeger.

So it was set, that I was to have my first goose hunt of the season. Let me catch you up on this early September goose hunt. The ODFW has a special Canada goose only hunt for a week in early Sept. to reduce the numbers due to an over abundance of geese. There are only specific counties that the hunt takes place in and it is not statewide. So that's how I was able to hunt geese this month.

Now back to my story. I figured it will take me 40 minutes of travel time and then time to grab decoys, headlamp, gun and shells. So that meant a 4 a.m. wake up which hurt a bit just thinking about. Shooting time was 6:10 and I like to have a few minutes to settle in before legal time. Well it all worked well with the exception that the ditch I was planning to lay in now had irrigation water flowing down it, so I had to opt for plan B. which I didn't have but managed to come up with one, being a resourceful hunter and educated in the days of minimalists field comforts.

I found a not so comfortable rock crib to hunker behind and threw some camo netting with weeds over me to break up my outline. I had set out 8 G & H standard goose shells off to my left at about 10 to 20 yards away. The mild temperatures found me quite comfortable wearing my chamois shirt and cotton camo bdu's. It was about 55 degrees and all I was missing was another cup of coffee. I had that to look forward to once I got back to the truck. So, I am all dressed up and waiting for the guests of honor to arrive. The morning is slowly waking up as the vroom of cars, trucks, school buses and farm equipment starts to rumble. Horses are knocking on fencing panels impatiently waiting their morning ration of alfalfa and the geese are starting to be vocal off in the distance. My heart quickens with the first true "honk" that rang through the distant junipers. Oh how I love to be affected by my quarry, it's magical!

I was facing south and the horizon was thinly veiled in cloud cover. To the north I heard more geese and slowly leaned from out behind the rock crib to catch a glimpse of just where the geese were coming from. It was a pair coming in on a string low and close. They passed by and did a fly by over the neighbors pond, then spotted my decoys. I got ready to roll to my knees and timed it well as they passed by just off to my right. I fired twice and dropped one on the first shot and didn't make a good second shot so away it went, all the wiser. The goose landed by the adjacent rock crib and as I got up to go retrieve it, it was standing and ready to take evasive actions. The pursuit began and eventually I was able to reach out and put my gun barrel on its back to stop it before it got to the neighbors fence line. It was either that or a full fledged tackle. With goose in hand I returned to my make shift ground blind behind the rock crib and waited for the next guests to arrive. It didn't take long and a string of 20 or so came from behind off to my left side. They also knew where they wanted to go and I was able to drop another out of this flock. I again hunkered down hoping that maybe one more group would come by, but none did in more than an hour and a half of waiting. That was it and at 8:45 I picked up my decoys etc. and had to get on with the rest of my days obligations.

That cup of coffee was tastier than the earlier cups as I headed out to BLM to pluck and process the birds. Then stopped at the neighbors to thank them and give them a previously processed goose from this past season for their Traeger. Also tossed in a White fronted goose as they have never eaten one of them. Told them that was the fillet mignon of the goose world, none better. What a great morning and I was ready to continue with the final weed wacking of the season. All in all a spectacular day full of everything I enjoy doing, yes even weed wacking.

In approximately 2 weeks I will be out on my Buck only deer hunt. Close to home and sleeping in my own bed, not such a bad deal. Til then enjoy each day and may your shots ring true.

Women's Hunting Journal Integrity For The Hunt

Hunting & Blackberries?

I have thought many times about having a lap top computer for writing blog posts and checking emails while I was away from home. Yet each time I have been on hunting trips I have been either to tired, didn't have the time or was enjoying being away from the electronic age. Usually it has been a time factor, considering that when I hunt I am up hours before daybreak and finish my days hunt well after dark if I have to process game. I'll admit I have been slow in the uptake of computers, resisting owning one until early 2001 when I started producing my Quail Flats Gunning Boxes. I sit here at my desk with a desk top computer and still do not to own a lap top. This is only one small way of being connected these days and anymore it has become somewhat outdated. With the advance of cell phones Blackberries, and now I-pads we have become addicted to being connected.

So much so that there are now actual "addictions" that people suffer from. Not to mention the fact that our youth are more overweight now than ever. While there have been some studies showing that certain computer games are good for then brain, I wonder just how much is to much of a good thing?

For me I am fully immersed in hunting when I am hunting. Be it laying for hours and days on end in a ground blind hunting geese or walking slowly during deer and elk season. Either way I am not interested in being connected to social trappings while I hunt. About as close as I get is having my cell phone on me for emergencies and my GPS when hunting big game. Occasionally a thought will run through my head about a blog topic or idea for a post, but that is all. Were I to actually take out my Blackberry and write a quick post I would not be hunting and I just can't seem to mix the two in the field. Hunting is hunting and blogging is blogging. For me they are two completely separate worlds requiring different skill sets, as well as mind sets.

On a hunting trip this past winter I was with a friend who had their Blackberry in the field with them. I could hear it and I found it quite other worldly to what I was doing. It made me wonder about how one spends their time waiting for their quarry to arrive. while still hunting for waterfowl. Also what about all the little things that one doesn't see or experience because of fiddling with the internet or email while being in the field?

So how many other hunters spend time on their Blackberries etc. while actually hunting? I can assure you that for me all I'll be taking in the field is my cell phone and GPS. I am interested to hear your feedback and thoughts on this subject.

Women's Hunting Journal Integrity For The Hunt

White Fronted Goose Hunt, Pt. 2

Having spent the better part of opening week sick, I eventually regained my strength and returned for the final week of the season. Although I had not forgotten the skybusters ruining opening weekend. All I was able to do is hope they had been visited by a state game officer, informing them about shooting hours and maybe even gave them a warning or more. As of this writing I have not heard the outcome of my reporting them.

Anyhow, Dan and I agreed to meet up on Thursday and see if our luck was any better than the first week. I hunted Thursday evening and had little success while mostly trying to pattern the geese for the following days. Dan arrived late Thursday evening after a long days work and was more than ready to decompress and get some field time in. He hadn't hunted at all during the regular season and we were both excited to hunt together.

The next morning we hunkered in a small ditch next to an over grazed pasture, which was adjacent to the Klamath River where the Specs had been spending the night. We had nothing more for cover than camo netting as we waited for the geese to arrive. We spent a few hours listening to them vocalizing amongst themselves before they finally made their move. They are smart birds and have keen sight so we had to take advantage of even the slightest shot opportunities they provided. The shots were long and in the end of our first morning we each had 1 Spec to our credit. Dan was able to retrieve his from the field while mine had made it to the river and died there. It was to far out for me in my chest highs, so I drove up to the cabin and got Jet to help me. I marked the bird for her and she made a wonderful retrieve swimming out some 30 yards or so. Considering her age and fast decline in physical abilities this season, I was very proud of her effort.

After retrieving our birds, we headed for the cabin and a late brunch followed by much conversation about how and where to make our next hunt. There were about 300 to 500 Specs in the immediate area feeding in the fields for a few hours in the mornings, then returning to the river for the duration of the day. Not until after evening shooting hours did a portion of them return to the fields for a quick evening snack. So our best opportunity was the morning hunt and it took a lot of years of experience to decide just where to set up.

We opted for the number 1 field next to the river. Using the dig out excavated from my previous hunt with Jackie, we again took our positions. We had set out 6 full bodied GHG Spec decoys and with the light breeze they were moving well. As the sun began to rise the continual chatter from the Specs in the river behind us was making our hearts beat faster with each crescendo. Anticipating their taking to flight is an exercise in controlling of ones adrenaline, patience and learning the subtle nuances of their vocalizations. Ultimately being rewarded for such diligence in ways that are both unexpected and unpredictable. Once they finally decided to feed they came off the water in succession, not all at once, but in small bunches. With the sun in our eyes on the horizon we had a small flock land in our decoys. Whatever Dan and I were talking about ended abruptly and our attention was now squarely focused in front of us at 40 yards. We eased our camo netting up over the bill of our hunting caps with one hand to help shield our eyes from the blinding sun, while our other was firmly a hold of our shotgun. We are now frozen in whatever position we uttered our last words. With our hearts pounding the small flocks continued to circle our spread and eventually land. Our small set of decoys worked their magic and we were now looking at (and being looked back at) approximately 200 or more live Specs in our decoys at some 40 to 60 yards away. I was almost speechless and I whispered to Dan, what do you want to do? As we were both waiting for the other to make the first move, after a bit of quiet whispering we agreed on taking the next group that offered us a shot as they circled overhead. It wasn't long before we broke the silence and took aim skyward. The Specs in our decoys took off with great surprise and more noise than one can imagine. We had our days limit and were amazed at what we had just witnessed. Neither Dan or I had ever had that many live geese in our decoys before. It was an experience that neither of us will soon forget, if ever. Especially the handful of sentry's that kept a sharp eye on us, knowing something wasn't quite right yet not being able to clearly bust us.

We had succeeded at fooling some of waterfowls wisest birds. No doubt had we stayed silent they would have continued to land in front of us. Although we were becoming quite stiff, and even a bit cramped in the cool morning air lying on the frozen dirt face of the dike. We were all grins as we both got to standing and working the kinks out of our frozen poses. The down side were there to be one, is that we had also just educated all those geese to the subtleties of hunters.

None the less Dan and I had several great days of hunting Specs and portability was a key ingredient to our success. Just as the geese learned where not to go, we learned to better guess where they were going to go. It was about being in the right place to intercept their movements while coming off the river en route to feed. Soon Dan was on his way back home while Jet and I stayed to finish the last 3 days of the season. More of those stories to come down the road. Oh, and the skybusters were no where to be found, or heard!

Women's Hunting Journal Integrity For The Hunt

White Fronted Goose Hunt, Pt.1

I was down in Klamath for a special hunt this past February and early March. The opening weekend was a complete disappointment. Not so much due to lack of geese but other factors. My friend Jackie and I set up in a field against a dike face and had a few full body Spec decoys out. There were decent numbers of geese in the area, although with unseasonal mild temps and no snow, the geese had the entire state to go where they wanted. They were not pressured to any one area because of limiting factors such as snow covered ground, iced rivers, lack of food sources or inclement weather. We dug in our ground blinds a day before the opening with the usual optimism. I was fighting off early symptoms of a bug and doing my best to keep the upper hand.

We were in our blinds by shooting time on Saturday morning and waited patiently for the geese to make their move from the Klamath River to the fields. There was a lack of green up due to poor snow pack and less precipitation than normal years. The geese were finding food where ever they could with no real jackpot anywhere. Across the river from us there were a couple other hunters set up near the river. As the geese began giving us a look, the fellows across the way were shooting at geese well out of their range. Thus having a negative effect on all the geese in close proximity. I was beside myself with the display of poor judgement of shooting distance and the ill effects of educating the geese. Once they started shooting or what is known as skybusting, we had next to zero chances of calling in any geese to our spread. I watched as they continued to skybust and didn't see a single goose ever get knocked down. By the end of the first evening after we picked up our decoys, I continued to hear shooting well beyond legal quitting time. A healthy 20 minutes after the fact, which just added to my disgust. After we returned to the cabin I reported the location, number of hunters and associated facts to the proper authorities. Considering I wasn't feeling well they picked the wrong time and place for their display of poor ethics and disregard of game laws.

The next morning found me sick as a dog and able only to make a trip to the field to gather my gear and head home to lick my wounds. Jackie was on her way home also as work was on her itinerary. So, after a very disappointing opening weekend it took me a week to get back on my feet and entertain the thought of returning for the last week of the White Fronted Goose hunt.

Fortunately, the season ended better than it started. I'll have the conclusion in my next post in a few days. Jet even got into the action and had some proud moments.

Women's Hunting Journal Integrity For The Hunt

Spring Goose Hunt

I am preparing my gear for the White Fronted and Snow goose hunt in the Klamath Basin which begins on this Saturday. My friend Jackie will be hunting with me on opening day before she returns to the bay area on Sunday. A few weeks ago I wrote about when we hunted the last weekend of the regular season. This was her first time ever goose hunting and she did get her first goose, what an experience. Pt.1/Pt.2. She is once again eager and ready to get after them and has purchased a Final Approach Express ground blind and some other water fowling gear to use this time. I am relatively sure that we have a new waterfowl hunter in our midst. She is talking of next season already, this is a good sign! I too have some new items to field test, cabin test and will report my results when I return. Jet too is ready to get back in the field and enjoy some mild weather hunts. Sure hope to get her a few birds, that would be great.

The weather has been unseasonably warm and mild which I hope translates into the Northern migration having begun. This year we can harvest 2 White Fronted Geese and 4 Snow Geese per day. I have yet to shoot a Snow goose and am really curious to find out for myself if they taste as bad as I've heard. If so then perhaps thuringer is the way to go with them. I know that Specs (aka White Fronted) are the best goose out there and I am already licking my chops just thinking about getting a few of them back home. Have even bought a hundred Texas Rags for the Snow Goose decoys and am looking forward to seeing just how well they work. They are sure time consuming in their initial set up. Certainly something to do prior to the hunt.

That's all for now, will catch up next week with a hunting report and some photos. Also will let you know how the new gear and decoys work.

Otherwise I have been watching the Olympics and rooting for the home team. Sure were some wicked falls in the women's D.H., I can't watch those crashes, just hurts to damn much. Sure am happy for Lindsey Vonn and Julia Mancuso's results. Congratulations Team U.S.A.

Women's Hunting Journal Integrity For The Hunt

35 Years In The Making, A Goose Hunt Pt. 2

After a short hunt on Thursday afternoon we had a wonderful dinner and got ready for an early start on Friday. The alarm sounded at 5:oo a.m. and we hit the floor and got the coffee started, followed by a fire in the wood cook stove. Grabbed a quick breakfast for the field and left the cabin at 6:15. We had the decoys all set out by shooting time at 7:o2 and now it was up to the geese to do their part.

We spent many hours tucked away in our ground blinds as the snow, sleet and rain squalls passed over us without any real discomfort. We had light to moderate S.S.W. winds which gave the Spec Full Body decoys, excellent eye catching movement. The weather was just fine and we were both being patient waiting for the geese to start flying. We heard several talking amongst themselves not to far away, at least as distance goes when your waiting it out. After several hours we decided to take a break and head to the cabin for lunch then come back out for the afternoon hunt. It was good to get out of our cocoons and stretch the legs a bit. We didn't stay to long in the cabin and resumed our posts by early afternoon and Jet joined us. I re arranged the decoys a bit just because that is the typical thing a hunter does if there haven't been any geese coming by. We waited and waited and waited some more. I took Jet back to the truck with an hour left of legal hunting light. She was out of patience and not enjoying being still. Then I resumed my position. It was quitting time on Friday evening and even though we never fired a shot we did see some geese flying and moving, just not in our direction. As I have observed for many, many years I knew that the geese had their own flight plans filed and were sticking to them. Trying to call them in was going to be a challenge.

Again we broke down our decoys and stashed everything against the dike. Making sure to cover the decoy heads so they didn't get rained on and frozen. That doesn't help the realism factor in the early morning hours. Rambled back to the cabin and had a wonderful dinner and got ready for our last morning hunt of the year. We decided to not leave the cabin quite as early cause the geese didn't fly til well after shooting light.

After a good nights sleep we got up and got back out there to our ground blinds and were set up before 7:30 A.M. We heard the geese chatting it up from the usual direction and we remained optimistic. I have had geese come in to my decoys in stealth mode, totally silent til all I heard was the beating of their wings as they made their final approach. That's pretty much one of those adrenaline infusions that warms you instantly from head to toe as your eyes become saucers and your heart pounds like a bass drum in your ears. drowning out every other sound. I kept telling Jackie it can happen at any moment, just be ready. Or if one decides to answer the call of mother nature, or stretch their legs, or fiddle with the decoys, these are the times that quite often the geese will point themselves in your direction.

It wasn't much later that we saw and heard a couple geese heading our way. I told Jackie to stay down and don't move. Whatever you do just don't move! There were 3 Canada Geese flying directly at our location and they weren't to terribly high either, though they were still out of range. They were vocalizing and as they came over us I gave them a short acknowledgement call and that was all. Sometimes less is more and this was certainly one of those times. They swung over us twice eyeballing every detail on the ground, making sure the decoys were legitimate and that no predators were lurking around the dike. I gave them another short call and they seemed confident in their assessment. On their third pass after they swung over the dike they began dropping in elevation and began to stretch out their landing gears while spotting their landing amongst the decoy. I could hardly believe my eyes when they began to come in for a landing. I was adrenalined up full throttle and kept telling Jackie "don't move, don't move," and as they began to back peddle with their wings and were a foot or two above the decoys I yelled, NOW! We both sprang up and let both barrels go. We had two geese on the ground cripples with broken wings. We reloaded to try and get the third, yet he had gained to much distance and managed to scathe away. I was running to catch my goose and I told Jackie to shoot again, and she made a good shot on her goose. I was able to catch up with mine and dispatch him without having to shoot again.

We were thrilled and it was only 9:00 in the morning. Unbelievable I told Jackie, that is the hardest thing to do decoying late season Canada's. She was speechless with excitement and could hardly stand it. I was amazed at how well she held tight and didn't move a muscle. Hell, it's hard for a seasoned veteran to not twitch when you've got those big geese circling your decoys. They look closer than they are because of their size and you have to wait and let them get to within real shooting range. Jackie couldn't believe how fast she was able to sit up in the ground blind and shoot and didn't even remember how she did it. That's good, nothing like be present and fully in the moment. We celebrated and I congratulated Jackie on her first goose ever and what a goose it was! A well educated late season Canada Goose. They don't come much smarter than that. We did a good job to conceal ourselves and not wiggle. Also setting up the decoys far enough away from the dike to give the real birds the illusion of safety, yet being just within range.

We got settled back in and waited for another hour or so then we headed to the cabin for lunch and to process our birds. After shooting the geese Jackie was having a challenging time of sitting still. A bad case of ants in the pants one might say. We had a fun time going back over the scenario and did so for the rest of the trip. We finished the day at 5:09 P.M. and broke our set after nothing else flying the entire afternoon. Bagged everything up and readied our gear for home. Jet was happy to see us and we had some great food all the while replaying our few moments of excitement over and over and over. I'll tell you, nothing like being with an old friend whose never shot a goose or even waterfowl hunted til 2 days before then shoots her first Honker! That's a moment I'll never forget. Congratulations Jackie, you hunted hard, were patient, a great student and shot like a seasoned veteran! Looking forward to our next hunt and thanks for the great memories.

Women's Hunting Journal Integrity For The Hunt

35 Years In The Making, A Goose Hunt Pt. 1

Little did I know who was coming my way via Facebook last summer. None other than a friend I had lost touch with during my teen years. It was wonderful to reconnect with Jackie after a lifetime of years and miles. We conversed and emailed often, eventually coming to find out she has property near my home. Although she resides and works in N.Cal. she makes frequent trips to my neck of the woods. Among our early conversations we found a common interest in firearms. She has been shooting on a skeet league for a few years now and was totally up for a hunt.

Ah, the stage was being set and I offered her an invite to go waterfowl hunting with me this year. She was excited at the idea and had all kinds of questions regarding gear, shells, etc. etc. I told her to make sure she had good rain gear and enough layers underneath for seriously cold temps and I'd take care of everything else. Not a problem she said and even though her clothing was not camo I told her not to worry, as she'd be in my Final Approach ground blind covered from head to toe and brushed in. She didn't fully understand the language I was speaking, yet she was game for learning.

So it was that we set some dates to hunt for late season geese in S.W. Oregon in the Klamath Basin specifically. The date she headed N. was also during one of the biggest storms of the year and it took her 12 hours including having to chain up to get to my home. Usually it's a 7 hour drive comfortably. It was clear to me that Jackie was still just as gritty and adventurous now, as in our youth. That's not to say that we still don't push the envelope a tad just for sake of doing so. It does keep life exciting that way. After a quick hello and relaxing for a bit we made plans for our morning departure and I gave her a brief overview of what I expected to find where we'll be hunting . It all sounded great to her even though the waterfowl numbers have been low this season. Jackie has spent a good deal of her life in the outdoors and is quite knowledgeable , so I knew a little rain or snow wasn't going to be a problem. The outdoors is where we both are most at ease and I was really looking forward to sharing my love of waterfowling with her.

We left early the next morning, excited and caffeine'd up. Once we got our gear stowed in the cabin we headed out for an afternoon hunt and some recon. The Klamath River was wide open with zero shelf ice and unfortunately no ducks in sight either. We did see some Canada geese on the upper Klamath Lake some 25 miles N.N.E. on our way to Lowlands. I kept the boat hooked up to my truck and backed it into the boat launch area and parked. We were going to hunt the field side of the river dike. This way if we did get a cripple that landed in the river we were ready to retrieve it aided by my boat and a 15 H.P. Mercury outboard. Geese are very fast paddlers and I have lost more than one by not getting to it before it reached a cut bank and hid. We began to shoulder decoy bags, shovels, ground blind and the usual gear. We walked about a 1/4 mile in stubble that was well worn from winter's wrath. As the temperatures warmed so did the ground and the clay in the soil began sticking to our boots. Just like it did when I was a kid hunting the pear orchards for Pheasants in the Rogue Valley. It made for awkward footing and an ongoing task of slinging it off whenever it got to heavy. None the less we made it to where we were going to hunt the next several days and began to dig in- Yes, really physically dig in our ground blinds with a shovel into the face of the dike. Then brush over ourselves so as to be flush with the face of the dike and disappear from the sharp & experienced eyes of late season honkers.

Jackie was fully engaged and having a ball. I wish I had given her the shovel sooner as she is a digger extraordinaire! As we began setting out the decoys Jackie was just beside herself with the landscape and hearing geese off in the distance. She watched as I began attaching heads to bodies (G & H 747) of the field shells and jumped right in. Then we set up the GHG full bodied Spec decoys too. In all we had a couple dozen deeks and with the light S.W. wind we had the Spec decoys had excellent movement. I helped her get situated in the Final Approach Eliminator ground blind then brushed her in. She was happy and ready for whatever and whoever to come flying into range. Not long after I got settled in she was asking "how do you shoot from here"? I said "you throw the top back and sit up and let them have it, just as quick as you can". I told her not to worry that it's much easier when it happens for real then trying to think out all the steps individually. Your reactions will take care of themselves, it's instinctual to a large degree.

Mmm she replied, O.K. and so we waited and talked about all sorts of things. Mostly hunting related and every now and then we'd hear a goose off in the distance, but nothing close. Although when you're with someone who has never hunted geese every goose they hear is exciting and it rubs off on you too. Made me remember back to my early years. A new hunter's enthusiasm is contagious and I was having a blast. The first afternoon came to an end all to quickly and as we broke our set and stashed the decoys, Jackie was giving me the run down of our evening dinner menu. Let's just say she cooked up some wonderful meals including homemade French Bread with fresh Rosemary and Cracked Pepper. It was well worth the wait.

With two more full days left of hunting our enthusiasm was still running high. These were the last days of the 2009/10 waterfowl season and patience was a pre requisite for late season goose hunting. Good things come to those who wait, or at least that's what my mom used to tell me.
I'll let you know how it all turned out and if Jackie got her first goose or not.

Women's Hunting Journal Integrity For The Hunt

Wild Goose Hunt

After getting my ducks in a row the other day regarding shipment of my new wide belt sander, Jet and I took off for an afternoon adventure.

I was so relieved to have gotten my sander ordered on the last day of 2009 for tax purposes that I was just beside myself and ready to celebrate. We headed south not far from home and checked in with a land owner for permission and to say thank you for letting us hunt on their property. While visiting with the land owner I gazed out the window to see a Canada Goose swimming non chalantly upstream next to the cut bank. Then I exclaimed my find in a controlled manner as much as I was able to and politely excused myself.

My pulse was racing and the adrenaline fully charged my system as I hurriedly walked to my truck to get Jet, gun, shells and coat. I was already wearing my breathable chest highs as I knew we'd be getting wet either from the snow, retrieving birds or both. This stretch of water is the Little Deschutes River and it is not a big river, although it runs deep and has a fair current to it with lots of oxbows. We had to negotiate several split rail fences to find clearance enough for Jet to go underneath. The bottom rails are less than a foot off the ground and Jet is a bit bigger than that, so we eventually found a higher rail for her to crawl under. Then I made the executive decision as to where we would sneak in hopes of jumping the goose or geese as I figured there would be at least 2, if not more. Seldom do geese hang out by themselves. So it was that we headed to a split rail fence that was within a foot of a high cut bank along the edge of the Little Deschutes. With the fence being as high as I am tall, I positioned my gun over the top rail and made my presence known. With as much surprise to myself as the geese I had snuck in on them right where they were. With wings flapping and bills honking I let go of both barrels knocking down first the larger of the two and then the smaller one. WOW, a double on honkers! That's doesn't happen every day and we were both thrilled.

Now comes the challenging part, retrieving them. The river had areas of ice extending out from the banks on both sides, with open water in the middle and a decent current too. I began to access my options and no sooner done, did I see jet drop down off the bank onto the ice and immediately break through. She was surprised and I moved into rescue mode. She was caught up between the vertical bank and ice without being able to touch the bottom. She was literally spinning vertical on her axis trying to get a hold of anything on the bank. I jumped in with my waders only at waste level and reached over to grab her and pulled her up the bank. Then got myself out and told her to stay! I then took my coat, vest off and got my waders as high as they would go. Then we began the retrieve in earnest. One goose was on the far bank itself and the other had drifted down river a bit and got hung up on the shelf ice. Jet was not going to stay while I went without her so, I grabbed her scruff and we waded across together. As we got to the shelf ice she was able to get her front feet up on it and I reached down and gave her a boost to get the rest of her up on the ice. I grabbed the first goose that got hunt up while she retrieved the smaller one on the bank. She was so proud of herself as she brought me the goose. Wagging from head to toe and looking like a pup again, if it weren't for the gray she now wears.

With both birds firmly in my left hand we began to cross back over. I grabbed her by the scruff and helped her into the water off the shelf ice and we made our way safely back. The water was just shy of reaching the top of my waders. I walked as tall as I knew how and was very thankful we both made it without any further incident. The weather was mild and a light drizzle began as we headed back to the truck. I was now overheating and just happy that we were able to recover both birds. No cripples and no major incidents. We went to a couple other areas to check for birds and saw nothing. Then we found a comfortable clump of turf and I began to start plucking the geese. I saved the down as well and after an hour or so we started to point the truck home.

Jet was wet through and through and darkness was upon us. We had enjoyed a wonderful afternoon on a wild goose hunt, and there was no better ending than a hot meal and a warm fire. The geese dressed out nicely without any shot to the breast or back(as they took the shots to their head and necks) they will be wonderful eating. What a great day after a long dry spell on waterfowl.

Women's Hunting Journal Integrity For The hunt

Stuck In The Muck

I hope you enjoyed the recent interview I did with The Downeast Duckhunter. I had fun doing it and hope you have visited his blog and read a bit more about his adventures of hunting the Atlantic Flyway. He (Tony) is a wealth of knowledge and never stops thinking about new ways to approach the hunt.

As I have read the recent blogs from the past week there have been several summaries of this past season. Well let me add mine to the mix. It is not a story of massive amounts of ducks being shot, or of frothing feverish retrieves. Nope, this one is more about the misfortunes of a last hunt and one ill fated step.

It all began innocently enough and very routinely. Jet and I loaded up all our goose decoys, ground blinds ( yes, she has a blind of her own too) and plenty of food to get us through the last 4 days of this season. The one pending concern was when I last left the cabin, the pipes were froze solid, leaving me unable to drain them after my day of hunting. So I didn't quite know what to expect when I arrived. Got to the cabin with a few hours of daylight left for a couple reasons. 1, to check on the plumbing and 2, to see what fields the geese were using if any. I was so happy and relieved to find that the Pex pipes had made it through our early December arctic blast and not a single one was broken. Phew, off to a good start I thought. Next I began to unload my gear and keep an eye on the fields for any geese that may be hanging around. There was a small bunch in the #1 field nibbling on some sparse alfalfa shoots. With the majority of snow being gone and the last several weeks of warmer than usual weather, yes the grasses were beginning to sprout. Lowlands was looking more like farmland and less like Fargo in January.

Jet and I got settled in and had a nice dinner. I decided we would venture down to the Klamath River first thing in the morning, as much of the ice was gone and there were sizable groups of divers using the river. We left the cabin before daybreak and started walking just before shooting time. There was a small group of Canada Geese in the North end of the # 1 field and some on the opposite side of the river from me. I decided our best chance was to walk in the ditch between the river and #1 field so we stay out of sight, since it's about 4 to 5 foot deep. Their was a mix of ice and some open water in the ditch and as most irrigation ditches go, it had steep sides and lots of very nasty muddy muck in it. Certainly not something you'd want to fall down in. With the recent snows back in December all the vegetation was laying down making it difficult to get a good foot hold. I kept Jet to my left just below the top of the dike and crept along the bottom edge where the bank met the water and ice. The weather was mild with temperatures in the mid 30's and a fairly low dark cloud cover. I could hear Goleneyes whistling overhead yet I was holding out for the chance to maybe shoot a goose. (In my Waterfowler Gunning Log, Goldeneyes are actually listed as Whistlers). So carefully and slowly we continued to move along in hopes of placing ourselves between the 2 bunches of geese.

Then it happened, without warning. I stepped in a beaver or muskrat hole that was hidden beneath the vegetation and the ill fated plunge proceeded. As my right foot sank in the muck without finding a bottom I quickly switched gun hands as I was going down. I rolled to my right trying to keep my ass end from going head over tea kettle and to some degree pulled it off. I reached with my left hand and threw it in front of me out in the water placing the stock of my gun up to the trigger fully submersed, yet holding my head and upper body from doing the proverbial "face plant". It had worked although my left knee was in distress and after extrapolating myself from the wet, nasty muddy muck I knew I was in a bit of a pickle. I hauled my soaking wet fleece drenched self up the bank and to the top of the dike. Took off my hunting vest and coat and wrung them out as well as everything that I had in the pockets. I poured the water out of my hat (it was in the back of my vest), vest and was thoroughly disgusted with myself. I had my fleece pants tucked inside my 18" Alphaburley boots which helped keep the water out and just wicked the water elsewhere as only a quality fleece garment can do.(LOL) Meanwhile Jet is thinking this is pretty fun and she is doing her "happy dog" escapades as if she'd just won the doggie lottery. What's up with that I wonder, then I try to tell her that mom isn't very happy right now, so if you'd moderate your enthusiasm a bit I'd appreciate it!

After taking inventory and realizing that my entire right side is drenched to the skin, I might as well continue on and go try to shoot a duck or two. My left knee was tweaked for sure and not knowing just how bad I didn't want to give up just yet. We headed for Porto's point on the Klamath River and I let go of the idea of shooting a goose. Limping along we made it and actually had a nice little diver hunt. I shot 3 Goldeneyes, 2 drakes and a hen. One of the drakes was a Common the other a Barrows. Jet wasn't thrilled with swimming in the still icy cold water so we called it quits at 3 ducks. I wish I had my boat there because there were so many flocks of Goldeneyes I couldn't believe it. I was certain we could of had limits.

We made it back to the truck and got ourselves to the cabin. Then I began taking off all my wet clothes and actually rinsed the mud off them in the sink before hanging them up to dry over the wood stove. Still thoroughly disgusted with myself and with whom ever it was that decided to excavate that damn hole in the ditch. Eventually I got all my wet stuff hung up and then processed the ducks. After that I sat down and had a nice brunch as my knee began to stiffen and swell. As I sat there eating I knew that my goose hunt was over before it even began. Later that afternoon I ventured out for a short walk in the #1 and 2 fields looking for goose sign to see if it was worth the effort. It didn't take me long to glean the results. No goose sign and very nasty sticky gooey mud that I had no business even being out there in. So I succumbed to the reality of the situation that my 2008/09 season was over and I needed to see an Orthopedist upon my return home.

Jet and I returned home the next day and I had an appointment for the following Monday. Seems that I partially tore a ligament and possibly my meniscus too. Further tests will be done later this week and I hope to avoid surgery. I am still planning on hunting the Klamath County depredation Spec hunt which opens Feb. 21 and closes Mar.10, 2009. Just taking it a day at a time right now and with any luck can avoid going under the knife. Certainly an untimely ending to an otherwise wonderful waterfowl season. Had many fun hunts with friends and got to watch Jet do some incredible retrieves as well as rooting out of some very wiley Pheasants.

Women's Hunting Journal Integrity For The Hunt

Snowshoes For Late Season Hunting

It has taken me awhile to finally follow through on one of my ideas. Typically it doesn't take me nearly so long although this time I didn't want to have to buy several pairs in order to get it right the first time. So I asked my fellow bloggers for their expertise and wisdom. Fortunately I did get some very good information from The Maine Outdoorsman who has done a lot of snowshoeing. After several e-mails back and forth and more on line research I have chosen a company with over 100 years experience in the snowshoe manufacturing business. Tubbs Snowshoes and their Frontier model in 25" for my late season waterfowl hunting.

For years I have trudged through deep snow carrying big bags of goose decoys, and exhausting myself in doing so. Thinking to myself that by the second or third day it'll be so much easier because I'll have created a path and won't be breaking through the snow with each step. Until then it's like taking 2 steps for each step you do take. It it also referred to as "post holing" cause it's like stepping in post holes. It requires a lot of balance and can be quite tiring. Your quads ache from catching yourself with a heavy load as you breathe deeper and remind yourself to take it slowly and pace yourself. It's only 200 yards your going, yet carrying 30 to 50 pounds in a foot or more of snow it seems like a lot further. As I'm walking I continue to look around and ask myself if there isn't a better place to set up that is closer, unfortunately the answer is usually no.

So, even though for the time being most of the snow where I hunt has melted, I know that we still have several months of winter ahead of us still. There is a White Fronted and Snow Goose special hunt that starts in February and ends March 10. It takes place in Klamath County only and is a damage hunt. Since the inception of this hunt began, two years there has been a large amount of snow at that time. Last year it was un huntable until about three days before it closed due to the fact we had so much snow. There was no place for the geese to land except for where the ranchers and farmers were feeding their livestck or on the Klamath River. The geese wanted little green alfalfa shoots and didn't want to hang out on the snow. So I know better than to think that we're out of the woods just yet. In the meantime, I will be getting accustom to my new Tubbs Frontier Snowshoes and look forward to reviewing them in late February or early March.

I am also having some custom work done to one of my large Cabela's decoy bags for this type of hunting. I will let you know how that works out too and with any luck get most of the bugs figured out next week. I will spend the last few days of the 2008/09 season looking at the wide open spaces of Klamath County goose hunting. The forecast calls for some weather in the form of light rain and snow. I hope the weatherman is right. Otherwise I don't think the geese will feel the need to move around very much. A little storm is all I need, Uh umm, I did say little.

Women's Hunting Journal Integrity For The Hunt