More Snow Goose Action

  My vacation in Idaho was still in full swing. Snow goose hunting from daylight to dark every day is tiring for an old duffer like me.
  My good friend Jim was down with his boy, Kyle, and I was wanting to get my other nephew, Nick, in on a good snow goose hunt.
  Nick was the lucky one to team shoot our only snow goose of the very first spring season Idaho offered. We often laugh about the way it came to pass.
  We were hunting Wayne's farm and had cobbled together about two hundred cardboard decoys, changing the paint from black Canada decoys, to white snow geese. We were so excited to finally get a chance at snows.
  We set up early in the morning and had Nick, his dad, Gary, a friend of ours, Larell, and Wayne and I for the hunt. Snow geese flew in waves over us but totally ignored us the entire morning. At noon Wayne suggested we make a lunch run into town for burgers. I was happy to break the boredom and accompany him.
  We took our time and returned to the blind in a couple of hours, greeted by cheesy smiles from the remaining guys.
  "We got one!" they announced as we handed burgers and fries to them.
  "Yeah right, and I'm the king of England," I replied back.
  Nick reached down and produced a sparkling white snow goose!
  "No way!" I responded
  The story was that a flock of swans had come straight at the guys and they were having fun observing the big birds as they flew past. Suddenly a very small "swan" broke out of the flock and sailed down into the decoys. It took them totally by surprise, and at last they realized it was a lone snow goose that had been flying with the group of swans. They opened up on it and between them all had our first snow goose, and... it was the only one we shot the entire season.
  Nick has the brag of getting our first and only snow goose that year.
  Things have now changed.  The boys have helped make dozens and dozens of snow goose decoys. It did not take long to realize that a couple hundred decoys just doesn't work for the white birds. They fly in flocks of thousands, and ignore a field with just a sprinkle of decoys in it.
  Nick had to work around his baseball schedule and asked to bring his hunting friend, Harry.
  "You bet. Bring him in the morning. Jimmy and your Uncle Jim will also be there to help with the shooting.
  The snow geese had been migrating through and the numbers were gaining each day. It should be a good shoot... but snow geese are so unpredictable, time would tell.
  Jimmy was waiting at the field, and Jim showed up with the boys shortly there after. We raced in the darkness setting the decoys.
  It seems there is never enough time to get all the decoys ready for opening light, and as I raced around I told the boys to get shells in their guns, shooting hours was just minutes away.
  Nick now set with a flock of more than a thousand decoys around him. A good change from that first day years ago.
  The Snows trickled in all day and we shot till our barrels nearly melted down.
  Big flocks would circle around and around until it seemed they were right in the blind with us. It was exciting and the best day of the season so far.
  The boys did some good shooting and the geese were piling up in the blind. Text messages and pictures were streaming out of the blind to family and friends as the day progressed.
  We took a break at noon, and unlike that first hunt had a nice barbecue near the blind. Each day it seemed we had to race into the blind as snows came decoying in with smoke billowing from the barbecue. As long as we stayed hidden we could shoot geese while making lunch.
  What a great time we had that day. Nick finally getting in on a good snow goose decoying day.
  Jimmy was also enjoying himself as it was his best hunt of the year. It seemed one of those magical days when things just lined up right.
  Oh sure, we should have had many more birds on the ground, but it seems that snow geese are the toughest of all waterfowl to hit. I can shoot and shoot at those birds with very limited results. I need to go to snow goose shooting school to learn with I'm doing wrong.
  I've learned to just bring a blind full of young hunters and they make you look good with the birds dropping in front of them!
  At least I now feel like I'm getting the snow goose bug into my Nephews. Some day when I'm old, I'll just show up in the morning just as shooing hours roll around and park my nice chair in their blind and tell them to "Bring on the birds. I'm ready for a good hunt!"
  I'm so thankful for the chance to be able to do all these great things with family and friends.

                                      Harry, Nick, Kyle, Jim, and Jimmy

                                          Harry, Kyle, and Nick

Idaho Blue Goose

  The Idaho Snow Goose season was in full swing. I was working hard to get everyone involved in some of the hunts. It seemed each day in March the birds responded better to decoys.
  My nephew, Luke, had gone on a hunt in Feb to be greeted with a long day of dark to dark hunting for only a couple of geese.
  "I think it'd be worth your time to come now," I told Luke over the phone. It was like twisting someones arm to put money in their bank account... "I'll be there," Luke quickly responded.
  I also text'd another young man who is bitten badly by the hunting bug, Colton.
  "I'll be there for sure," He text'd back, and early the next morning his truck rolled into my driveway.
    A quick stop by the Parma fuel and handy mart and we were off to the field.
  Luke arrived at the field with his Uncle Jim, and special needs cousin, Kyle.
  The geese were roaring in the ponds behind us, usually a good omen.
  We raced through the early morning decoy set up and had things ready to go come daylight.
  I was really hoping to have a flock or two decoy. It is one thing to shoot a single or a pair, but the thrill of snow goose hunting is to have a flock drop from the bright blue stratosphere, and into the decoys.
  The morning dragged by without much excitement. We shot at a few birds but still no flocks.
  "Ok boys," I said, "it is getting close to prime decoy time."
  The field we hunt is between feeding grounds and resting area ponds. From about noon to three is prime time. The feeding birds are trickling to their resting area ponds. It seems there are always a few flocks that have not fed enough in the morning and are willing to check out our corn field on the way over.
"Peep!" I heard a snow goose from some distance away.
  "I hear one," I said to the boys, " look around and see where it is."
  "High, way up high above us," I said as soon as I saw the little white dots above us.
"They are locked on our decoys and coming in," I tried to conceal my excitement. "Sit back and enjoy the show."
  "Hey, is that a blue? Luke asked.
  "It is!" Coloton replied. Colton has the best eyes of the group. I could hardly tell they were birds, but as they dropped near we could all see the blue colored bird with a bright white neck and head.
  We have to be very careful that it is a blue goose and not an immature speckle belly, as the season is closed on specks.
  All through the morning we had talked about a blue goose. As many snows as I've seen shot in Idaho, I had never seen a real blue. We have harvested quite a few young snows which have a lot of grey feathers, but a real blue has the pure white head and neck.
  As the birds dropped and dropped from their incredibly high elevation the boys discussed how they were locked on the blue.
  We all enjoyed watching the dark bird in the flock of white.
  The birds were in range now. "Take them this time?" whispered the boys.
  "No, let's let them make one more pass to be sure they are in good range," I whispered back.
  It is so hard to keep letting snow geese circle again and again. Many times we wait for that one more circle only to have the birds fly away never to be seen again.
  Hunting Canada Geese the birds drop into the decoys in one or two passes and try to land. Not so with the snows, around and around without loosing very much elevation.
  The snows made a big circle around the blind and the decoy spread.  "Ok guys, this time. Take them when they come over this time," I whispered as gun barrels poked out the top of the blind.
  "Remember to shoot your lanes," I commented as I always do just before we lunge out of the blind to shoot into a flock.
  Shooting the lane in front of each hunter seems easy, but is,  in fact, very difficult.
  In a flock of birds there will always be one that stands out. It is usually the one that is the closest to the blind, or very large.  Your eyes are just drawn to that one bird. If a group of hunters do not force themselves to shoot the birds in front of them, closest or not, we find everyone shoots at the one that draws the eye and all the others escape untouched.
  "Now! Take them!" I shouted, while rising to shoot.  I picked a bird on my far end of the flock and promptly missed all my shots at it.
  Jim was faring better on his end of the flock, dropping a few geese.
  "Got it! Got it! Got it!" shouted Colton and Luke.
  "We got the blue!"They shouted, as they raced out of the blind to retrieve the bird.
  I had forgotten all about that blue goose.  It had come in the center of the flock right in front of Luke and Colton. Those boys concentrated their shots at it and we had the first real blue goose any of us had ever seen.
  Pictures were snapped over and over. The smiles were huge on those two guys faces. I have to admit I was sure proud of them as well.
  "Great shooting guys," I told them over and over.
  We harvested a few more snows that day, but that blue was certainly the highlight of the day, if not the season.
  Now there is talk of getting it mounted. Luke and Colton might have to take turns hanging it on their walls just to be fair.  I am very confident that both of the boys it that blue at the same time. It really is a shared treasure.

                                                   Our first blue goose

 

Jim, Kyle, and Luke

 

First Snow Goose at 95

  I called my folks house to speak to my Dad.
  "How about coming with me for a snow goose hunt?" I asked. 
  I received the reply I expected... "When? What time in the morning?"
  In all of my hunting years one solid thing I have counted on is the immediate willingness of my Dad going with me.
   "Let's do it Monday,"  I said to both he and my mom.  "No can do on Monday," my mom replied over the top of Dad's immediate "yes" reply.  "Have a doctor's appointment on Monday. But... Tuesday looks open for him," I could hear my mom reading off the wall calendar.
  When one gets old life doesn't center around a work schedule, but rather, a doctor's appointment calender. In their 80's and 90's there seems to always be some tuning up to do on the old bodies, eyes, ears, muscles... something.
  I picked up Dad at 5:30, and he had his stuff in a pile waiting. Just like every other time, I have never had to wait on him getting ready. 
  I have to laugh, in my mid 50's I find it hard to get up and going, I can not imagine at 95.
  We drove to Wayne's farm to set up in the dark.
  "I have never shot a snow goose," Dad informed me on the way. I knew I had taken him last year but had forgotten that he had not shot a white goose.
  "Maybe we can change that today," I said, as we bounced into the little dirt lane leading to the corn field we were hunting.
   I parked the truck and found my way to the blind by head lamp. The ducks and geese were greeting the morning full bore! In the ponds next to Wayne's farm the birds were almost deafening.
  "Man, listen to those geese roar," I commented to Dad.
  Many times I have wondered how many morning my Dad and I have shared the waking of a new day by listening to waterfowl greet the same early dawn. 
  I think back to my youth. Dad was so good about taking my brother and I on hunting and fishing trips.
  As I matured my love for the outdoors grew with my age. I loved the early mornings and found myself  spending most of them with my Dad.
  Daylight was breaking the Eastern sky, and even a blind person would have known by the ever increasing roar of snow and speckle belly geese in the ponds.
  "Ok Dad, it's shooting time, let's get some shells in the guns," I told him as I raced getting the sound system and the moving decoys going.
  Daylight came with a biting chill in the air. Dad's hands were so cold he could hardly get shells stuffed into his gun.
  The old blood vessels just don't work like they used to. I can remember most of my hunting life of how warm Dad's hand were. My brother and I would be freezing, he would slip off his toasty warm gloves and place them onto our little hands, giving us instant warmth. Now it is my turn to do the same for him.
  "Here comes a single snow goose," I whispered to Dad, "This will be your bird."
  The goose sailed right into the decoy for a great shot.
  "Ok, get it now!" I told Dad.
  He shot and the bird did not fall. Now it was fare game for me as well. I shot and shot with Dad and the goose flew away untouched!
  "Wow, what a lucky bird," I told Dad, while stuffing shells into my gun as well as his. In hunter's language that means, "We sure shot poorly"!
  A bit later in the morning I finally got my wish of a flock working into the decoys. I have wanted to show Dad the thrill of seeing those white birds circle and circle lower and lower. They seem to always be floating just out of gun range as they look over the decoys and blind.
  This time they decided to come right in.
  "Ok, let's get them," I said rising to shoot. I would shoot my side of the flock,  while Dad would shoot his side.
  Bang, bang, bang! We opened up on them. I expected to see geese raining out of the sky, but  typical snow goose hunting it seems I miss more than I hit. Dad was faring no better.
  One goose fell on my side and I stopped shooting.
  Bang! one last lone shot came from Dad's gun and a single goose fell out of the flock.
  I was surprised. Those birds were way out there when Dad hit it.
  I ran out and retrieved the birds.
  "Well, you got your first snow goose ," I informed Dad.
  He did his best to blame it on me.
  "I don't think I got that one," he said.
  "Well, unless my last shot took a long long time to reach the birds, you had to have hit that one. I was done shooting and it fell right when your gun went off," I explained to Dad.
  I could tell he was still not convinced.
  We hunted the rest of the day with little results, but that one flock had made it worth our day.
  At Dad and Mom's house I cleaned the two geese we had gotten. In my bird I found number 2 shot, and then in Dad's goose I found BB size shot, just what we each had been shooting.
  At nearly 96 years old my Dad had gotten his first snow goose.
  I am so thankful for the time I have with my Dad and Mom. I treasure each moment like this day.
  I am very blessed.
  And... way to go Dad!
 
                                          Dad with his first snow goose