I’m not a goose hunter. Not that I don’t like goose hunters. It’s just not my bag.
Rex on the other hand may hate goose hunters.
Truth be told, I’ve only ever been goose hunting once. To call it goose hunting is stretching it a bit. Every year, my buddy enters a lottery to hunt goose at Middle Creek. The first year he drew December 24. For you heathens, that happens to be Christmas Eve. No way I was getting a kitchen pass for that hunt. He didn’t either. Couple of years back he drew a January Monday. Beats Christmas Eve, so I was in. We talked another buddy into joining us, and made plans to meet very early for the drive to Middle Creek.
Hunting at Middle Creek is probably pretty cool. You sign in at the ranger’s station, buy a stamp, they give you a map, and send you out into the darkness. Only thing is, our Monday morning happened to be the coldest, windiest day ever recorded in the history of modern day, concrete bunker, goose hunting.
We went. To this day I have no clue why. I guess neither of us we’re able to cry “uncle” and call the hunt off. To say it was cold would be the greatest understatement of all time. It would like calling Hell “a little humid.” We sat in that concrete bunker, shivering, praying for noon, and hoping no geese would fly over. Why? because had the geese decided to fly, two things were going to happen. One – they would probably take the lake with them, as it was frozen solid. Remember, it was cold out. Two – we would have to open the bunker, and hold our metal weapons, with our numb hands, and squint through our frozen eyes, just to miss at mythical birds soaring overhead.
That’s what we eventually ended up doing. Through the bone-chilling wind, one of us heard geese heading our way. We threw open the roof of the bunker and shot at the geese that were so high in the air they didn’t even hear our shots, let alone feel any pellets. It’s as if they were just making fun of us for sitting out in that cold, windy morning.
That ended my first and last goose hunt. The three of us hurried to the truck, cranked the heat, and headed for a coffee shop. I’m amazed to this day the truck even started.
good story, I will try some of my duck stories soon.