My last day of snow goose hunting in Ontario last week was – as all my last days with the birds seem to be – slow and drawn out. Flights of geese were spotty, and most of the birds that decoyed were singles or doubles. No huge flocks over the decoys – those remained in the distance.
Spring snow goose hunting can be a lengthy affair. All day in a blind – either flat on your back in a lay-down or on a chair in a tepee blind. Both have advantages, but I prefer the heavily camouflaged tepee and the all-day sit. If I’m driving to the hunt, I bring my own chair – cushioned, on swivels, camoed and with a comfortable back.
A blind bag is essential when you’re having a slow couple of hours. Not for the ammo, extra gloves, hat, camera, earplugs and flashlight, but for the heat packs, snacks, water and hot coffee the experienced snow goose hunter also puts in. Today, I had coffee, water and muffins from Tim Horton’s as well as the two remaining Snickers bars I’d brought from home.
I usually have a magazine – Sporting Classics,Wildfowl – or a book in my blind bag. After the initial get-to-know-you conversations peter out, when the birds stop coming, or when I feel guilty about having a snack, I reach for a good read. I bring the magazines on wet days; books are for cloudy or clear days. The magazines get passed around after I finish, and the articles often restart conversations – of dream trips, old double guns, dogs and guides – all the good stuff.
This morning, we’re in the field at 6:30 a.m. Will is our guide, and Josh and I are hunting together for the first time. Josh is a young, bearded, thin, muscular man who moves well. And he’s quick. I on the other hand am 70-plus, overweight and lumber slowly. But once I’m set, I can shoot.
At 8 o’clock, the first geese looked at our thousand-bird rig. I tucked my head down in the blind and studied the muddy floor. Minutes passed. More minutes.
Keep your head tucked, I reminded myself. Don’t look, you’ll flare the birds. Wait for. . .
Will yelled, “ Take ‘em!”
I rose to my feet – suddenly, it seemed – but there had already been a shot on my left and, as I raised my gun, another shot. I focused on a flaring, brilliant white bird, got ahead of it and fired. He folded and dropped to the ground. I heard another shot from the left as I pumped my gun and tried an even longer shot. I missed. Boy, that kid was fast. Four birds down, but only one of them mine.
Watching Will’s Chesapeake Bay retriever work was a treat. Will gave Grizzly the line and out he’d go, each time coming back with a snow goose held gently in his mouth.
Grizzly walked carefully through the frozen, needle-sharp stems of cut grain. The dog was long and lean. Such was his grace of movement that I did not notice his size until he put his head into my lap for a rub. Big, strong and fast, he handled the goose retrieves like they were no heavier than mallards.
We settled back into the blind, talked about the shots and felt relieved – a decoying flock and first blood. An hour went by.
The four sure-fire ways to attract geese are: go outside the blind to relieve yourself, pour a cup of coffee, eat a snack, or stand up and stretch. I decided to do two of them – a cup of coffee and a muffin—and then I added the kicker – I took the Stephen King memoir out of my blind-bag and began to read.
Two pages, a half a muffin and part of a cup of coffee later, Will said, “A single looking us over on the right.”
I again bowed my head and began to wait. I had time to put down my cup, muffin and book. I had a lot of time. That bird really looked us over. I studied the boot prints in the mud; I counted empty shells at my feet; I watched a fly settle on my muffin.
Then, finally, “Take ‘em. In front!”
I was halfway up and looking when I heard Josh’s shot; the bird dropped 30 yards away. Grizzly made another fine retrieve, and I went back to my book and muffin. I had kicked over my coffee cup.
And so it went. If a single or double came in, Josh had it/them dead in the air while I was still struggling to get up. I think I did hit the second bird of a pair at the same time he did – once. But we had two more small flocks of five and seven come in, and I was able to bag three more birds. One was a long shot that I was very proud of. Again, Grizzly’s work was fun to watch.
We decided to stop at 4 o’clock that afternoon. We had bagged 16 snows, four of which were mine. And I had learned some lessons. The first was that I’m no longer 40 years old and fast. The second was that next time, I’d swallow my pride and ask the quick shooter to slow down a bit. The third was to always bring a good book. And snacks.