I had been out scouting all preseason for this one particular flock of geese. They were about one and a half hours from where I lived, but my brother was keeping an eye on them for me.
When I finally had the time off from work to go, I called up my brother to get a status report, "Dude I haven't seen them in about three days." This was not what I wanted to hear, but I figured I'd give it a shot, so off I went.
I set up in the morning and didn't see a thing.
I was kind of bummed on the ride home, but I had plans to go out the next morning with a guy from work. The field was two miles from my house. I didn't have a lot of faith that the geese were going to show up considering how I had done the day before, but we had made plans weeks in advance so I figured I would go anyways.
The first flock showed up at 6:58 and we could hear them way before we could see them due to the thick fog.
I hit my flute call a couple of times and that's all it took. They were coming in, landing gear and flaps down!
I waited for my partner to call the shot and then popped out of my blind. I rushed the first shot and missed, and then told myself, "Slow down, flow through. You got time." My next shot dropped a big ole goose; meanwhile I could hear my buddy blazing away on his side of the flock. After it was over I had a big, fat, banded goose in two shots while my buddy went zero for three!
I really enjoyed rubbing that one in since the year prior he had out shot me on every hunt!
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