Back when you could still shoot a limit of Pintails, we hunted the Goose Creek Impoundment quite a bit. What a fantastic place it was 30 years ago. Not many hunters, ducks galore. I probably hunted there 7-8 days a season and can't remember but 2-3 days that we didn't shoot a limit. Nice ducks too. Mainly Pintails, but always a few Wigeon, Gadwall, Green Wing Teal and an occasional Black Duck. Different friends of mine, mainly McGee just shot whatever came by. I was a little more selective. But it wasn't beyond me to shoot a hen.
My Dad, my brother Tom , Mike McGee and I went up there for the last day of the season, about 25 years ago. It was typical late January weather; cold and windy. Heavy overcast that day, almost looked like it could snow. We didn't hunt our favorite spot because the wind was a little too far east of north and really blowing a gale. But we had a good spot in some heavy reeds.
Nobody hunting close to us, at least not too close. So it was a fine day. The ducks started moving before shooting time, and they were everywhere. We started killing birds as soon as it was light enough to see what we were doing. McGee's little Lab, Bug, was our retriever that day and worked like a champ. Last day she ever hunted. Got sick right after the season and passed away. She was a very small dog, maybe the rigors of the season were just too much for her. That aside, the day is firmly etched into my memory. My Dad only got to hunt the impoundment a few times and it was good that he was there for a truly fine shoot. We mostly just took turns shooting. Sometimes if we had a small flock decoy to us more than one man would shoot. We made the hunt last a few hours anyway. Killed a couple Green Wings, and someone shot a Shoveler (won't say who), but we really did great on the Pintails. Had about 15 nice drakes. When the flight started to slow down a little, I switched over to some 3" magnum shells to try to increase our chances to kill a limit. I think all 3 of the others shot at a little bunch of Pintails and dropped one out in the open and one in the heavy reeds behind us. Bug saw the one in the decoys and fetched it, but she didn't get a mark on the other one and had no luck finding it at all. So they were all looking for the bird, and meanwhile I was counting the birds. We had 18 birds on the duck straps, and the one they were searching for. I could have gone and helped them, but thought I'd better keep an eye on the decoys. Just about the time I heard someone say they had found the missing bird, I had my eye on a hen Pintail that was coming over really high. I pulled out in front of her about twice the length of my 870 and let an ounce and 5/8's of number 2's go. Killed her stone dead. Dad turned around to see what I was shooting at and I just motioned skyward. The bird still looked like a speck in the sky and it had been falling for a couple seconds already. She splashed down about 5 yards from me. That's 20 I said. Dad was still in shock over the high shot, but someone was mumbling around about me sneaking that bird while everyone else was busy. The way I see it, the complainer should have marked his bird down better and it wouldn't have taken 3 men and 20 minutes to find it.
I'm pretty sure that was the biggest day of my Dad's hunting life up till that point, so he was really enthused about the day. All of us were excited. Beautiful, late season birds in full plumage. But even with all the Bull Sprigs we had killed, that last high hen sticks out the most in my memory.
My Dad, my brother Tom , Mike McGee and I went up there for the last day of the season, about 25 years ago. It was typical late January weather; cold and windy. Heavy overcast that day, almost looked like it could snow. We didn't hunt our favorite spot because the wind was a little too far east of north and really blowing a gale. But we had a good spot in some heavy reeds.
Nobody hunting close to us, at least not too close. So it was a fine day. The ducks started moving before shooting time, and they were everywhere. We started killing birds as soon as it was light enough to see what we were doing. McGee's little Lab, Bug, was our retriever that day and worked like a champ. Last day she ever hunted. Got sick right after the season and passed away. She was a very small dog, maybe the rigors of the season were just too much for her. That aside, the day is firmly etched into my memory. My Dad only got to hunt the impoundment a few times and it was good that he was there for a truly fine shoot. We mostly just took turns shooting. Sometimes if we had a small flock decoy to us more than one man would shoot. We made the hunt last a few hours anyway. Killed a couple Green Wings, and someone shot a Shoveler (won't say who), but we really did great on the Pintails. Had about 15 nice drakes. When the flight started to slow down a little, I switched over to some 3" magnum shells to try to increase our chances to kill a limit. I think all 3 of the others shot at a little bunch of Pintails and dropped one out in the open and one in the heavy reeds behind us. Bug saw the one in the decoys and fetched it, but she didn't get a mark on the other one and had no luck finding it at all. So they were all looking for the bird, and meanwhile I was counting the birds. We had 18 birds on the duck straps, and the one they were searching for. I could have gone and helped them, but thought I'd better keep an eye on the decoys. Just about the time I heard someone say they had found the missing bird, I had my eye on a hen Pintail that was coming over really high. I pulled out in front of her about twice the length of my 870 and let an ounce and 5/8's of number 2's go. Killed her stone dead. Dad turned around to see what I was shooting at and I just motioned skyward. The bird still looked like a speck in the sky and it had been falling for a couple seconds already. She splashed down about 5 yards from me. That's 20 I said. Dad was still in shock over the high shot, but someone was mumbling around about me sneaking that bird while everyone else was busy. The way I see it, the complainer should have marked his bird down better and it wouldn't have taken 3 men and 20 minutes to find it.
I'm pretty sure that was the biggest day of my Dad's hunting life up till that point, so he was really enthused about the day. All of us were excited. Beautiful, late season birds in full plumage. But even with all the Bull Sprigs we had killed, that last high hen sticks out the most in my memory.
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