It’s Sunday night, and I’m in the midst of washing all of the hunting clothing we use the most. We got out as much as possible this weekend in spite of the weather. It’s been chilly and rainy since last Sunday, pretty much.
We got out Saturday morning for duck, after Matt went out Friday night with his buddy. They’d seen quite a few birds (compared to so far this season), and shot a mallard pair- big ones. It was a chill morning- my Weatherbug was telling me 36 at about 7AM, it would have been colder when we first got out around 5:45 or 6. We didn’t see too many ducks all morning- most were small groups or pairs, out of range.
Dragging the decoy bag
The big, fat, mallard drake.
I’m on plucking duty.
Late in the morning, however, there were finally geese. One single, probably young, goose came in low over the trees to our right, and landed in the spread in front of me. Forgetting momentarily that I had a 20 gauge, with only 4 shot, I tried to plug it. I hit him, but he barely even flinched before taking off. Maybe 30 minutes later, Matt called a foursome of geese in. Two would land near our spread, but were extremely suspicious of our still decoys on the calm water- they didn’t wing in close enough to take a shot. The other two, unbeknownst to us, landed right behind us. They were scared out by a boater, taking the two in the spread with them. As we packed up, another group came over, and Matt managed to confuse the hell out of them by calling after our decoys were packed in. They couldn’t find the geese calling to them. We went home empty handed. At least his calling is getting better.
Saturday and Sunday night, we got out for deer. I was 100% totally skunked- my streak of not seeing deer continues, unabated. Matt, however. That lucky bastard had a shot on an 8 pointer Saturday night, but was busted drawing his bow- the deer was within 10 yards. He was pretty upset, but on the ground, I’m not too sure who wouldn’t get busted that close. Sunday, he packed in the ladder stand. And put it on a very small birch sapling.
His middle name may as well be Danger.
His view of the field.
That left me with his pop up ground blind. Lucky for me, since it rained for the first two hours we were out. I was relatively dry, Matt was not. He thinks he saw the same 8 pointer come out of a different spot on the field- the deer here seem to not really have much of a pattern. We’re plotting to see when they hit up the nearby creek for water, and see if it’s far enough from the road to try to hunt.
So aside from everything being muddy and soaked, Matt is going on his annual big Deer Camp trip up in Buffalo County, on the Mississippi, an area known for large deer and good hunting. This camp happens on a college buddy’s private, managed land. He has yet to bring a deer home from it, but we’re crossing our fingers. He’s pulling out all the stops, and I’ll be helping him prepare for the trip during the week. It’s supposed to be gray and in the low 40s all week. I’m kicking around another hunt down in Illinois myself, but I have to work Sunday morning and Friday night, and there’s probably no way I’m getting out of either. So, I may just hunt by myself up here Saturday evening. I’ll be restricted to deer- I can’t duck hunt on my own.