Morning Misfires
1/23/21
Duane, Cody, and I wanted to get one last sit in the Duck Blind before the season closed on the 31st and our schedules got too busy once more. We met up at Cody’s parent’s property and lugged a bag of decoys, a bucket, and our gear to the blind that sits in front of the lower pond. As we walked up to the blind, ducks scattered and flew off in multiple directions. I was immediately bummed out, thinking we just blew out all the ducks from the morning flight and would not have any more visitors on the day. As the morning crept on, it felt like that might be the case.
We had been sitting in the blind for close to an hour before a small group of birds came in. We all jumped up and unloaded our Benelli’s, mainly into the morning air. I emptied my gun and did not get so much as a single feather off of a bird. Duane, I believe, got the only duck from that first group and we all laughed at ourselves for our poor shooting.
Some random birds had come by the pond and we managed to knock a few down. Duane was out with a fishing pole to retrieve the floaters since no one had a bird dog. Cody was back behind the blind looking for a bird he had dropped but could not find. I was in the blind by myself when I heard wings flapping directly behind me and right over my shoulder. A green-winged teal bombed in right next to me and straight ahead of me, offering up an easy shot. I willingly took the offer and dumped the teal into the center of the pond. Duane looked over at me and said, “Nice shot! But there were four more behind it coming in.” I shook my head and laughed. Even when things went right, they sort of went wrong.
I joined Duane while he attempted to retrieve the ducks and Cody was our lone shooter in the blind. All of a sudden, Cody yelled for us to get down. Three wigeon were coming in fast and he didn’t want us to spook them out. Duane and I laid down in the reeds only for the trio to circle off and fly away. We resumed our search and casting and Cody yelled a second time that a lone bird was coming in. This wigeon came in perfectly, hung up at the decoys, locked it’s wings and started slowly dropping. I told Duane to tell me when to shoot as I flipped my safety off and stared at the bird I was sure to bag. At the exact moment Duane said, “Take him!” I lifted my 12 gauge, got lined up, and BANG! Cody shot the bird out of the sky the instant before I pulled the trigger. I laughed and said, “Cody, you dog!” He laughed from the blind and came out to help fish for the ducks.
Watching Cody casting for the ducks gave me a laugh and I thought I should snap a few photos to help tell the story. I was in the middle of taking another picture when Cody drops to the ground and says, “Shane, ducks! Shoot! Shoot!” I looked up and the biggest group of birds we had seen all day had just flown into the pond. My brain immediately had a hard time focusing in on one target, but I eventually picked out the farthest left and closest wigeon. I raised my gun, pulled the trigger, and click! I looked down at my gun confused, knowing I had chambered another shell, and knowing my window of opportunity was closing. I opened the pump and realized I hadn’t closed the action all the way, hence the misfire. Now, with a loaded shell, I looked back up at the group of wigeon that were now turning and flying away. Frazzled again by the over a dozen flying targets, I pointed and shot into the sky. Swing and a miss. I laughed again and facepalmed as I looked to Duane and Cody, knowing how badly I had just choked. They harassed me a fair amount, rightfully so, and the three of us returned to the blind.
One of the last groups of birds on the day was a group of three green-winged teal. I came to appreciate how quickly these birds fly in, how small they are, and the vibrant colors they wear. The three birds came in fast over the left side of the pond. Duane dumped one right away, and the remaining two teal paused in a puddle behind the blind. We spun around and as we did, the duo took flight once more. Cody knocked another one down and the remaining bird was swinging fast around the right side of the blind where I was. I pulled up and followed the lone survivor, shooting him out of the sky and onto the path to head back to the trucks. We looked at each other and celebrated, three for three, and everyone got a bird!
We collected our quarry and made a game-plan to jump-shoot birds that had landed on the upper pond. I was excited for the new aspect of duck hunting that I hadn’t done before, and I enjoyed the idea of stalking in on our targets. We spread out below the upper pond and on Cody’s signal, showed ourselves and once more, unloaded our shotguns. The majority of the birds were on the right side of the pond where Cody was, and he took two ducks out with a single shot. The birds flushed out perfectly, flying up and to the left, where Duane and I were. Duane got another bird, and I missed again. One duck seemingly had a death wish and kept flying low and circling back to me. I raised my gun and pulled the trigger, to no avail. Thinking it was the action not being fully engaged again, I pulled the pump forward and gave it another go. That didn’t do the trick, but this duck was mocking me at this point. I looked down at my Benelli as if it was going to tell me what was wrong, but no words were shared. Once all the birds had flown off, I looked over my SuperNova and realized that somehow in the heat of things, I had flipped my safety back on. I laughed again at myself. What a day.
We ended the hunt with 11 birds, though we easily could have, and probably should have, nearly limited out. I learned a lot again on my third duck hunt, and was extremely grateful for the patience and guidance of Duane and Cody. Apparently I need to fail a lot to succeed, this time through a morning of misfires.
