- Location
- Back in the Peace Country
Well I was at work today and it was a long one. At around 2 pm I decided that this evening I;d be going out to see if I could get a few ducks. I didn't go out the openeing morning as the weather was shot and windy as hell. The itch to get out was killing me. Now traditionally I start the year off with a nice cold brisk morning hunt, a Coffee, a lunch in the field,... but I was working days and still am until Thursady and I couldn't wait.
No longer sooner had I decided that I would be going hunting today, then one of the girls in the lab said, holy shot look out the window. It was pouring down hard. She looked at me and said "I guess you won't be going hunting", and I said I guess not. Immediately it became clear and Sunny, (within 5 minutes)
I was on again.
I had to stop to Canadian tire on the way home and grab some shells. I bought some 3 inch winchesters for 15 a box, as I always found them a good shell early in the year, basically a utility shell. There was not a person there who had a key to open the glass. They had to page the manager who was on supper to come open it. Took half an hour.
I was in the line up for another half an hour wondering if things were against me.
I stopped off at the beer store and picked up a few beers to have while I plucked the ducks I was going to get. I always buy bottles, tonight there were none. I buy 8 cans of Coors and give a little sigh.
I get home and rush through the door. Greeting me is my dog who has apparently eaten a beeswax pillar candle and proceeded to vomit it up in an artistic fashion all about the house.
Cleaned up the beebarf and now get into my gear, first thing I drop my goose call on the gagrage concrete and it splits, done like Sunday dinner never to be used again,
Pissed and thirsty I grab a beer out of the fridge and have a gulp. YUK !
Tastes like aluminum, and the Mountains aren't blue
I know for sure now that the Ides are against me, and God damn it i'm up for the fight. I hop in the truck and drive to my spot. I park behind 3 big bales and get out,... no sooner was I out the truck and a hawk jumped up from one of the bales somewhere and just about tour the face off me. I swapped him one and he battered off and then pitched on another bale and watched.
I am now at the waters edge, neck high in cattails.
There are ducks swimming everywhere and few flying up and down the water edge. Finally I see 7 coming full on up the side straight for me like jets.
I wait, I wait, safetey off, Spring up, bang bang bang bang bang bang, about 40 starlings flying in front and below the ducks fly square into my chest and face knocking me head over heels backwards with the comotion. One leaves a clump of feather and blood where he hit the vent rib.
Well now I am pissed. I fire a shot just to make some action and at 20 yrds I miss 3 ducks that were flying like they were siamese twins.
It'now last light and I say screw this. Walking back, out of nowhere a deer bursts through the cattails and almost hits me. Just as startled as me he guns her.
As I get within view of the truck I see Mr Hawk is back on the bail, probably waiting to finish me off. No shells in the gun, floatin' Jigger in Hand, I was ready for the bastard. If he came at me again he'd end up being a floatin' Jigger kite.
He just flew off and I came home.
Here now with a beer that tastes much better, and a little bit bruised ego from the first day skunk !
Look out Thursday !!!
No longer sooner had I decided that I would be going hunting today, then one of the girls in the lab said, holy shot look out the window. It was pouring down hard. She looked at me and said "I guess you won't be going hunting", and I said I guess not. Immediately it became clear and Sunny, (within 5 minutes)
I was on again.
I had to stop to Canadian tire on the way home and grab some shells. I bought some 3 inch winchesters for 15 a box, as I always found them a good shell early in the year, basically a utility shell. There was not a person there who had a key to open the glass. They had to page the manager who was on supper to come open it. Took half an hour.
I was in the line up for another half an hour wondering if things were against me.
I stopped off at the beer store and picked up a few beers to have while I plucked the ducks I was going to get. I always buy bottles, tonight there were none. I buy 8 cans of Coors and give a little sigh.
I get home and rush through the door. Greeting me is my dog who has apparently eaten a beeswax pillar candle and proceeded to vomit it up in an artistic fashion all about the house.
Cleaned up the beebarf and now get into my gear, first thing I drop my goose call on the gagrage concrete and it splits, done like Sunday dinner never to be used again,
Pissed and thirsty I grab a beer out of the fridge and have a gulp. YUK !
Tastes like aluminum, and the Mountains aren't blue
I know for sure now that the Ides are against me, and God damn it i'm up for the fight. I hop in the truck and drive to my spot. I park behind 3 big bales and get out,... no sooner was I out the truck and a hawk jumped up from one of the bales somewhere and just about tour the face off me. I swapped him one and he battered off and then pitched on another bale and watched.
I am now at the waters edge, neck high in cattails.
There are ducks swimming everywhere and few flying up and down the water edge. Finally I see 7 coming full on up the side straight for me like jets.
I wait, I wait, safetey off, Spring up, bang bang bang bang bang bang, about 40 starlings flying in front and below the ducks fly square into my chest and face knocking me head over heels backwards with the comotion. One leaves a clump of feather and blood where he hit the vent rib.
Well now I am pissed. I fire a shot just to make some action and at 20 yrds I miss 3 ducks that were flying like they were siamese twins.
It'now last light and I say screw this. Walking back, out of nowhere a deer bursts through the cattails and almost hits me. Just as startled as me he guns her.
As I get within view of the truck I see Mr Hawk is back on the bail, probably waiting to finish me off. No shells in the gun, floatin' Jigger in Hand, I was ready for the bastard. If he came at me again he'd end up being a floatin' Jigger kite.
He just flew off and I came home.
Here now with a beer that tastes much better, and a little bit bruised ego from the first day skunk !
Look out Thursday !!!
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