Nebraskaland

Because you have to be on … the … spot, and you have to be hidden. And, probably just as important as these factors is having the time to make your dreams come to fruition. So be prepared for an all-day hunt. Yesterday's 2 p.m. arrival means you have to cover the four hours preceding and the four hours after. If you're going to put this much windshield time into this type of hunting, you can't miss it. Last season, a group of birds — 40 or 50 — had been working one of our fields. But for any number of reasons, we couldn't get our schedules aligned to go. When we were finally able, it was going to be perfect. An afternoon storm was pushing through so we would start hunting midday. However, when I awoke that morning, two inches of snow had already fallen and I had multiple phone calls from Mills. When I finally called him back, his voice was somber. "Too late," he said. "There are 200 birds in the field." I gigantic pit filled my stomach. "Tomorrow," I replied. "They'll be back." I was wrong. They never came back. Touch and Go On the X? Check. Hide? Check. Weather? Check. All of these are a great start, for sure, along with not too little or not too much calling. But now it gets complicated. The first group of four birds are making a beeline to your spread, locked in from hundreds of yards away. You do a quick check on your blind mates, just to make sure all of their blond- haired children are wearing camo stocking caps or facemasks and the orange potato chip bags are properly hidden. Now their distance is 100 yards ... 80 ... 60. Then they turn … making a small circle around your blind … and the closest bird is at 40 yards. "One more pass," your hunting partner says. And he's right. Why shoot one at 40 when you can shoot four at 20 yards? But on the circle, something happens. Did your buddy's son poke his head out of the blind too soon? Did the flock hear that one bad note — the sound you'll describe later as a squeak when your hunting partner is out of earshot — from his goose call. You don't know what, never will know, but the birds turn and start lengthening their distance away from the blind ... 60 ... 80 ... then finally pitching down 100 yards away from your spread. You look up, and a group of 10 are coming your way. You flag desperately, the muscles in your forearms burning as this second group pitches right into the group of four. "This isn't good," your partner says. "Should we go bust that other group up?" This will require one in your group to walk toward the other birds and scare them, all the while hoping a larger group doesn't see this strange movement in the field and bug out completely, ruining the entire afternoon hunt. Then you have a brilliant idea. "Let's send Eli." My 10-year-old son puts down his bag of sunflower seeds. "I'm in." He runs out of the blind in the direction of the group, everyone in the blind commenting how his gray and black snowsuit sort of looks like a Canada goose. Within 50 yards of the birds, they bust up and away from our spread. But there's another problem. We hear something. Over Eli's shoulder, hundreds and hundreds of yards away, we see more than 200 birds already cupping their wings toward our spread. Eli sees this, too, and without any instructions, begins his sprint back toward the blind. "Faster," we yell at the kid, who is dodging and high-stepping between decoys as he tumbles outside of the blind and crawls in. The birds in the air are undeterred. Their wings remain cupped. 100 ... 50 ... 30. "Take 'em!" your partner yells, but when you stand up, you realize that the 30-yard estimate is off. They're farther than that. But they know you're there. This is your only chance. The air fills with booms, one after the other as the flock drifts farther and When it all goes right, like it did at this moment for hunter Trevor Johnson of Doniphan, there's nothing better. 32 Nebraskaland • December 2023

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