“How are the decoys going?”
“Your son is cussing up a storm and chucking sh@# out of the boat.” I answer.
The Old Man is notorious for wrestling with tangled decoy lines and shouting out expletives in the pitch black mornings before a duck hunt. It’s the reason he is in the blind, and we’re putting out decoys. My brother carries on this family tradition.
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| "Tangle-free decoys" |
“Tangle-free decoys my a$#!” he mumbles underneath is breath.
“Where are the goose decoys?” he asks.
I pass him two beat up decoys.
“You know we’re not going to see any geese this morning.” I comment.
“Why’s that?” He asks.
“Because we put out goose decoys.” I answer.
Its one of the laws of duck hunting. Whatever you’re unprepared for happens. And vise versa. No matter how much preparation you’ve put into the following morning's hunt, the boat motor doesn’t start. Or the one day you’re covered in ducks, your duck call freezes, or falls apart leaving you with expensive kazoo.
And of course, when my brother and I tuck back into the blind, we have ducks landing all over our decoys, 10 minutes before shooting time.
One of my favorite things about the Christmas season is hunting with family. Its one of the few times during the year, our schedules free up and we get to share a duck blind. Ducks or no ducks, I enjoy the time spent recounting old stories, using unfiltered language, poking fun at each others’ expense, and sharing opinions about life.
“You know,” says the Old Man, “when I was in my early twenties, I thought for sure by the time I reached my sixties, we would have invented flying cars.”
“That’s !@#$$ ing bullsh@#” He shakes his head, “One of the biggest disappointments of my life.”
My brother laughs, “Don’t worry, my 8 year old has it figured out, he told me, ‘it’s easy Dad, just put wings and an engine on a car.’ ”
If only engineering was as easy as legos. My brother unwraps his biscuit.
“Sausage..can’t do sausage right now. I better wait. The combination of coffee and a sausage biscuit doesn‘t bode well for me right now.” he says.
“That’s not the manliest thing I’ve heard in a duck blind.” the Old Man jokes.
The consumption of sausage biscuits is a quintessential part of duck hunting for the Old Man. He ate his upon immediate arrival in the blind.
“Hmm, you know what would be really good right now?” he says as he sips his Hot Chocolate.
“Marshmallows, the little ones, go find me some marshmallows.” He jokes.
Some might claim that drinking Hot Chocolate isn’t the manliest thing to do in a duck blind either.
Before our next round of banter begins, we hear honks in the tree line behind us.
“Geese!” I whisper and reach for my call.
My brother mirrors my reaction as our blind erupts with the cacophony of squeaks and honks.
Out of the corner off my eye, I see three geese pass through the pine boughs on the right side of the blind, wings cupped and feet down. I stand to shoot. On my first shot, the lead goose barely flinches. On my second shot, two geese drop. My brother follows the last goose and he drops on his first shot.
I scratch my head as the water is peppered with steel shot.
Confused on the mechanics of my shooting I ask, “Did you shoot at those two geese?”
“Nope, I only had a clear shot at the last one.” my brother answers.
“I didn’t even shoot.” The Old Man grins.
“But let’s be clear, you shot those two geese, so you get to cook and clean them.” he adds.
Nevertheless, three geese up, three geese down.
We finish the morning with intermittent groups of ducks circling our spread and the acquisition of new nicknames such as Chief Shoots-No-Ducks and Chief Poops-In-The-Woods. Ducks or no ducks, the time spent hunting with family is reward enough.
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