So after all this excitement of the past weeks about heading north to hunt some ducks, the day finally came. Me and my buddy ended up getting out of work early, making the commute north nice. Not knowing exactly where the camp was, we searched for a little while before finally finding it. We arrived around 8, and stayed up to shoot the bull with my uncle. The next morning we woke up a little late, and finally hit the water at 6:15. After paddling in we spooked our first ducks of the trip, only to miss one shot and have my gun jam for the second. Needless to say that was how day 1 went. We chased ducks around the pond only to be one step behind. No ducks hit the water that day, and we headed back with out heads hung low, but with high hopes that first spot we spooked the ducks out of would pay off in the morning. So 5:00 came around, we arose, and headed out for another day of hunting. And just like the day before another dissapointing first light! Not one duck came into the cove we spooked 50+ out of the day before! After an hour of sitting, I decided we needed to make the move and head to the other side of the road, and that is where the fun began. Not 5 minutes of crossing the road, we shot at passing ducks, only to spook out the big flocks we spooked the morning before! We hurried over and began setting up, but along the way ducks kept trying to pile back in. Now I don't know if it was just early first duck jitters but we both blew shot after shot at passing ducks about 20 yards away and missed everything! We began laughing so hard at our poor shooting, knowing we really needed to change something! After all this, we set up, stuck the mojo in the shallow mud, set the jerk rig and waited. Not being setup for 30 seconds I really needed to take a leak, and just like every time I need to, ducks pile in. My buddy got his first while I was around the corner, and then a minute later his second before I could get back! Before long I doubled up on an incoming triple, then took my third woodie to end my limit. He eventually got his third while paddling out on a fast flying long shot. It definetly seemed that after we calmed down, and took a deep breath and focused on aiming better, and not just pointing, we were back into the killing. The third and final day we tried our go to spot we found before, only to get completely skunked again! Which I almost anticipated due to how much we shot at that flock the day before. I doubled up on two woodies we spooked out a river pocket and we called the trip around noon. We needed the trip with 8 woodies but still had a vacation to remember!
The worst thing about missing isn't the ridicule from your buddies, its the disappointed look of your dog