Quote:
Originally Posted by Harry Gietler
Just think, if you had a ''Single Trigger''. you would have gotten all (10).
What would you have done with that many Geese ?
Harry
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The limit in Saskatchewan is 20 per hunter per day with no possession limit. I live in Alberta right on the Sask border. In Alberta we are allowed 50 per hunter per day, no possession. I've often shot my 20 limit in SK but never gotten my 50 in AB but came close with 44 one morning. We turn them into different kinds of sausage, bologna, jerky etc.
I shot another three yesterday just plunking my rear end next to a watering hole birds are using as they feed and rest. Here is the full account from both days! I've taken to naming my VH Judge Parker.
The Amazing Adventures Of Judge Parker & Friends
First Hunt:
After losing out on a morning hunt to two medical appointments after arriving home and having lunch I figured you can't kill birds sitting on the couch so I set out for an afternoon sit in the blind and I invited two new partners to join me, Judge Parker and his good friend Doc Bismuth.
After arriving at the spot we decided on I set out a dozen and a half Snow Goose silhouette decoys while my senior partners relaxed and patiently waited to do their part in the hunt.
Todays adventure was a first for Judge Parker, Doc Bismuth and yours truly to get together on a hunt and I have to say I foresee many more adventures as the three of us had much in common and it was as if we had known each other for years.
We connected well without a word exchanged between us in the blind all afternoon. Somehow each knew exactly what the other was thinking and needed to do as a team when a few geese came into good shooting range.
The Judge is definitely senior to me having been born in 1911 at the Parker Bros factory in Meriden, Connecticut. He is of VH ancestry with a #2 sized frame and sports a set of full choked 30" barrels.
Doc Bismuth was born at the Eley Cartridge Company and packs a very potent punch for only a 2 3/4 dram equivalent, 1oz of # 4 shot in his short 2 1/2" length. The two of them working together absolutely stoned flat out the accused after The Judge handed down sentence.
We hunted an area next to a small drainage ditch spilling it's banks over into a livestock winter pasture. The geese have been using it as a day loaf after feeding in nearby fields the past two and a half days.
We sat and watched as geese, ducks and even a couple Bald Eagles cycled back and forth over the next two hours from their main roost one mile south.
The Judge, Doc and I picked our shots carefully owing to close proximity to buildings and livestock but we managed to collect 5 nice mature Snows before the geese took flight around 4 pm to head out to feed.
The three of us sat another 30 minutes in silence just taking in and appreciating the miracle before us of the annual cycle of life in all it's spring glory as birds fattening up on waste grain traded back and forth from water to feed before their biological clocks would push them to move on and get home to the breeding grounds.
We looked at the bounty tucked in the corner of our solo blind that mother nature had decided to share with us and we thought we have done well and there is no need to be greedy, there will be another hunt tomorrow or another day soon.
It had been a great couple hours with my new partners so we decided to pack it in with our 5 geese rather than wait for the birds to return after feeding opting instead to give the returning birds a quiet loaf to water and rest prior to heading to their overnight roost and we promised each other to get together again Friday for another quick afternoon hunt.
I retrieved my truck parked in the landowners bin yard, packed up our gear and put it in the truck.
The Judge and Doc wanted to have their pictures taken with our brace of Snow Geese. The Judge could not remember when he had last been invited by his previous hunting partner on a goose hunt though he was certain it had been many decades.
I had wondered how The Judge and Doc would perform together and if the three of us would be able to work well together?
It was obvious The Judge and Doc were a well oiled duo but throwing my experience, or lack thereof with double trigger guns into the mix showed there is much room for improvement, not an easy task getting my slow moving brain to engage and realize that both barrels cannot be fired by one single trigger, that after the first shot the finger needs to find the second trigger for the second shot to be fired, preferably before the remaining geese have slipped out of range.
Overall though I would say the three of us had a very successful first hunt and I look forward to many more hunts with my senior partner and his younger upstart Doc Bismuth.
Second Hunt:
Judge Parker called this morning and offered that he and Doc Bismuth were available today for a quick hunt so I picked them up and we went hunting once again.
The Judge handed down a firm first sentence of the day early on sentencing Ole Rust Face and Doc Bismuth divered the coup de grace with an ounce and a quarter of #5's...the Judge has a full docket today.
Well after sitting and watching a spectacular show all morning of migrating waterfowl, many of which came to our nice little watering hole to partake in a drink during their migration The Judge, Doc Bismuth and yours truly suddenly found ourselves covered up in birds a few of which mixed in with the wrong colour were the colour of geese we had been seeking.
On The Judges handing out his second and third sentences together I rose and pointed to the accused, a pair of white geese. The Judge ordered Doc Bismuth to deliver the coup-de-grace in the form of two rounds of 1 1/4oz #5 shot Bismuth and it quickly and effectively carried out Judge Parker's sentence.
The pair splashed down into the water before us and lay motionless.
I told the Judge and Doc to wait in the blind and I would make the retrieve.
I made my way to the waters edge, the ground getting softer and mushier as I got closer.
Now I have to point out that we are hunting in a winter feed lot that has housed probably one hundred or so cattle all winter so the ground and water are of a questionable quality, especially after many, many years of use.
So as I made my way to the water's edge I suddenly found my right boot sucked into the "mud" for lack of a better term of this black septic tank smelling ooze beneath my feet and in trying to maneuver my foot so as to not lose my boot instead I lost my balance and landed on my padded rear section and back in what kind only be described as a very odourous greasy feeling quagmire.
I flipped over onto one knee laughing out loud after a quick curse word that I shall not repeat and stood back up.
Now I immediately thought I should quit, re-evaluate plans before things worsened and head home to get a fishing rod and lure to retrieve the pair of snow white geese floating atop the black water.
That is precisely what a smart man would have done but nobody has ever given me credit for being smart nor precise and at the same time I remembered a part of a paragraph in the regulations stating "every possible effort must be made to retrieve both dead and/or wounded game" and since these geese were dead at the hands of my hunting partner Judge Parker and his teammate who were quietly watching from the comfort of a dry, warm blind I figured I had best adhere to the regulations and make the effort to retrieve said game.
As I started once again towards the "water" hole with thoughts of doubt in my mind suddenly the voice of Chief Dan George came to me as a voice in my head with one of his famous lines from the movie The Outlaw Josie Wales. "We must endeavour to persevere" and with that all doubts were erased as I set foot in the loafing flood water, one foot ahead of the other making my way to the nearest Snow Goose 10 yards out from the shoreline.
About three steps later my left boot stuck solid in the mud and with my forward momentum I stepped out of the boot this time headed for a face down splashdown but managed to twist myself to land on my side instead of face down in this wonderful smelling ooze.
For a second I could do nothing but laugh and then once again I lifted myself from the black ooze while at the same time grabbing my "septic" filled boot and walked out of the pond in one sock foot and one boot and headed for the truck as Chief Dan George's most famous line from the Outlaw Josey Wales echoed through my hollow head "Hell is coming to breakfast".
Once at the truck I stripped out of my clothing only to discover not a drop of water or whatever that "stuff" is called had penetrated my brand new last fall waterproof suit and my under layers were as dry as if I had just dressed at home, minus of course the bare once white sock that was now not only black but covered in dried pasture fertilizer picked up during the walk to the truck.
So I left the Judge and Doc in the blind, headed home and stripped on the deck outside for all the neighbours to see. No police arrived so that was a good thing and after a quick wash, change of clothes and acquiring a fishing rod and lure with a treble hook I made my way back to the "water" hole from hell, retrieved our birds, picked up The Judge and his friend Doc who again insisted on taking pictures of our booming successes before leaving and then we set out for yours truly to clean our birds.
After finishing the bird cleaning I took Doc and The Judge back to the house where my smiling better half greeted me at the door once again and took the Judge and Doc in the house to mind to them while I headed for the laundromat to see if there was the slightest chance my clothes would come clean and hopefully odourless.
Of course this is one of those days when something is at play to make all things "challenging" and after washing my beautiful waterproof camo hunting suit I discovered that I had somehow slipped my wallet into my bib pocket, something I never do but managed to do today and had washed it along with my suit.
Well let no man ever accuse me of "laundering" dirty money and especially now as it is as clean as a snow white Snow Goose before it falls dead in black ooze.
As I finish this latest update I am home from the laundromat, my hunting suit hanging outside drying in the spring air which hopefully it will smell like when dried and in a few minutes the Judge, Doc Bismuth and I are going to have a very serious discussion about this temporary lapse of insanity that brought about an urge to hunt over "water" in the promise land of dry field hunting.
I am once again going to remind them I sold my duck boat, waders and floating decoys several years ago for very good reason, a reason which I can still smell and hopefully for not as long as I remember this day.
04-11-2024, 10:00 AM
Hybrid Mode