Early Geese-Death in the Tall Grass

Thanks to Eric and Marty, I was able to get in a few goose hunts, sans decoys and calling, in the tropical September weather of the early goose season. On one hunt, Eric and I managed to down more than ten geese, thanks to a perfect stalk in windy conditions that allowed us to get close and surprise the birds. On this particular hunt, Eric made some incredible overhead shots on returning geese. Nice way to start the waterfowling season. I on the other hand, was effective but not impressive. My first shot (10 gauge, number 4 heavishot) when the birds were just getting up dropped at least two, perhaps three, geese, and I hit one more after a hasty reload as it tried to circle back looking for a fallen comrade. Meat on the table, but not that pinnacle feeling that is so elusive. But beggars cannot be choosers.

The second and final hunt for me in the 2007 early goose season was very satisfying however. Our hope was to return to the scene of the crime for a repeat performance. But when we arrived at the pond, the birds had vacated and were comfortably feeding across the road in a cut corn field. Bummer. As we stood in the middle of the pond complex feeling sorry for ourselves, another flock came out of the ponds deeper in to join their brethren in the corn field. Damn! And their we stood with our mouths agape. One of us finally got some smarts and suggested we at least check those ponds to see if there were any stragglers left. (I can't remember who was the smart one now, probably Illegal Riegel) We began our stalk through the tall grass like a couple of blood thirsty lions. After sneaking along a few yards, I signaled to Eric that I heard geese. Thrice more I heard them call, not far ahead. Eric motioned to where it sounded like they would be. Slowly we poked our heads over the dike. Nothing.

As we hunkered back down and deduced our feathered friends' whereabouts in hushed and whispered tones, we heard a number of geese begin to get vocal. The pond we would be sneaking was long and narrow, parallel to and beyond the long and narrow one we were peaking over. We would need to either cross the empty pond in front of us directly and risk alerting the birds with our splashing or go all the way around and risk being at the opposite end of the pond the birds were in. We decided to split up, one of us going to each end. Then, we would each come 1/3 of the way towards the middle to maximize pond coverage. We agreed on our plan, synchronized our watches, said our goodbyes, wished each other God-speed, and all that other high drama combat stuff.

I saw Eric at his end of the long narrow pond moments after I reached mine. It sounded like the geese were in his end of the pond, and that they were getting wise to the reality of death swishing around in the grass about them. I watched him hesitate, deliberating, and then install his dog in a stock still "sit" below the horizon of the dike, out of sight of the geese. At this point I thought "Eric, don't peak over the edge...just go your third and then walk up." But like Lot's wife needing a lance glance at Sodom and Gomorrah, Eric couldn't resist a peak. He didn't turn into salt, but he might as well have been pounding it. The geese got loud quick and swam for the middle...they had made him. I sprinted thirty yards to what I guessed was my 1/3 and dove into the grass, melting into the contours of the bank as best I could. I heard shots. I heard geese getting closer. I saw a flock of twenty fly too far to my east, but damn they were low. I saw a flock of 8 coming right for me, thirty yards up. As the first of the group passed over head I rolled upright and fired, and fired again. It was beautiful. I swung on a goose against a clear blue sky and watched him roll and tumble in the air. I picked another target and swung, fired and watched him cartwheel. Both geese landed in the water not twenty yards from me. Pinnacle. First double of the season, and more to come, "Insha' Allah."

Though Eric (who has an epic solo hunt story to close his early season goose hunting) didn't fare as well on his end of the pond, due to the geese making him and forcing him to take long shots, we both got a big kick out of the stalk, and a good time was had by all. Well, except for the geese. Thanks Eric!

Photo courtesy of Illegal Riegel.