Top_Heavy's World

The snowgeese were always on the flats... which shallow stream do I follow to bring me close to them? I was in the middle of a 13,000+ acre public marsh and wildlife area. The water level this spring was at the lowest point I could remember and the huge open water area was reduced to dozens of small creeks. I had scouted around 300 snow geese for the past week, and I knew where they would be today!
I was fully loaded with catfish equipment; rods, reals, big hooks, chicken livers and shad gut. I figured I could float down one of the streams into shotgun range of the flock of snows, shoot a couple and float the rest of the way to a big pool that had to be holding the mother lode of cat's. The spring bite was on, as the cats feasted on everything that didn't survive the winter and ice out. I chose a stream in the middle and guided my "ungrassed" duck boat into the slight current. I was in luck, this stream had over 6" of water runnig down it, so the boat floated easily with the motor raised. I push poled when needed as my lab ran the length of the blind with excitement. I was fairly nervous as I could not find the geese. That many white geese makes a pretty visible spot against the dark mud flats, but they were no where to be found. I was about to where they had been roosting all week, and I figured "Still a good day for catfish fishing!". As I was giving up on the geese I heard an unmistakable squeek. I looked toward the heavens and sure enough, they were dropping from the sky as though fallen angels, just for me. I banked the boat and waited. The entire flock spiraled from thousands of feet up, down they dropped, down to their warm loafing flats. The flock dropped to the far end of the flat I was next to. "How lucky can I be?" was my only thought as I pushed into the current again.
I was not in camo, my boat was ungrassed, my dog sat up on the blind, and the motor was raised, showing the white lower unit. I to this day can't figure why birds so weary were so dumb. They must have been too tired from feeding all morning to care as they let me drift up to 30 yards. At this point the geese all got nervous, a single honk got all of their heads up in unison. I brought my SP-10 to bear on the front of the flock and I fired. I know, this is Iowa, not Arkansas, but with only 3 shells in the gun, and a 20 bird limit, I needed an advantage! I picked another bird infront of a rising flock and shot again, only feet higher than before. The next shot was also at a single bird with many more behind it. The main flock winged out of range as I frantically fumbled with another shell. I slipped it into the chamber and pushed the "close" button. I had one chance at the last couple of young birds that had accidentally flown my way as the rest of the flock flew away. Bang... one final parting shot at about 50 yards and I folded another snow. 13 geese in all stayed on the flat that morning. D... Branta Canadensis Delight... that beautiful lab, made the retrieves. She is the hero of hundreds of hunts, and this another one. The soft mud was almost to her belly as she went onto the flat to retrieve the birds. She was smart enough to pick up two birds at one time, usually by the wings, but she would bring them back to the boat, hesitate a second and start the next retrieve. When the birds were all accounted for she got a rub down with my unused coat and we went fishing.
The fishing was good, not as exciting as the "jump shoot" but it was successful as well. This is a picture, taken by Matt Schrantz, when he stopped to join in on the warm spring day.