Well yesterday started with a duck hunt, not an average duck hunt but a sled in duck hunt. You see the reservoir I usually hunt has been froze over for a while so I got a spot down from the dam that I have permission to hunt. So I hauled all my gear down there set up and only saw 2 quackers. The weather didn't really want to work with me, it kept snowing all morning making my dekes snow piles. So I pulled 'em and headed in and of course then the sun pops out, but I already had it in my mind I was going Pheasant hunting when I got home. So I put all my duck hunting gear away and got ready to go Pheasant hunting. I got to the prop around 1:00 and with the fresh snow that morning my plan was simple cut a track and follow it. Apparently yesterday was skip work and go pheasant hunting day, I saw 6 trucks at the first spot I wanted to hit so I went down the road a little further and started walking. I cut a track and followed it for at least an hour and a half to no avail. So I got back in the car and took off for another section I've shot birds at. There were tracks everywhere so I just stared pushing small sections of cover, going real slow, changing directions often, and stopping alot. Nothing, not even a rabbit. It was starting to get late by now and just when I almost ran out of options I heard a rally call. A cock was getting ready to roost and looking for company, so I took off towards the sound and let me tell ya he just wouldn't shut up which was good for me. I had to cross a ravine and two small sections of cover but finally got close enough to almost see the bird (of so I thought). Then he just shut up so I did what I thought was my best option and rushed the bird. Nothing no bird, so I started running through this postage stamp of cover trying to flush him out. Sure am glad nobody saw the orange idiot running through the tall grass. Then just when I was ready to give up I saw him about 5 feet from me at the base of a small tree. Well after working this hard all day I was going to go for the ground pound and right now I wish I could've accomplished that. What happened instead was he saw me and took off I unleashed the fury of my mossberg. What fell to the ground was more hamburger than my prized pheasant.
Yes I took him home, yes I surgically removed all the bad stuff and saved what I could. I'll be making some pheasant soup today and now the meat is practically all cut up.
So I had a good day yesterday only to be screwed by today. Today was supposed to rain all day and as I write this looking outside on this bluebird day I just gotta wonder how many quackers I coulda had this morning?
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