Holesinthesky
Elite Refuge Member
I have been blessed to of experienced many a great times afield.
Thinking back thru my memories all are cherished.
BUT……. I think the one that I smile the most about, is a hunt with my grandfather.
I was probably around 7-8. It was a cold mid November morning in NE Missouri.
I don’t remember the temp, but was cold enough to freeze snot.
There was probably 8-10” of of snow on the ground, and had steadily been coming down since about 8pm, the previous evening.
He woke me up at 0300, I Got dressed and with eyes still full of sleep made my way to the garage.
He grabbed his Remington 870 12 ga, then handed me a Remington 870 16ga.
“Come on grandson, let’s go get some ducks”.
We drove about 20 minutes to a friends farm pond, where he had a makeshift blind made out of 2x4s and covered in cattails. We got settled in, and waited.
Needless to say……. It was cold. He grabbed a thermos and poured 2 cups of black coffee. He handed me one, and I thought I was somebody.
The snow continued to fall, the wind decided to needed to blow a little harder.
Then I heard my first “swoosh” thru the air. I never saw anything, but he said ducks.
a little more light, and I saw them. They were locked up and coming in. He simply said…”Get ready Grandson”.
A group of 8 came in, and as soon as they were ready to hit the water, he said shoot them.
Boom,Boom,Boom,Boom,Boom,Boom. 3 ducks on the water. (I later learned they were mallards).
He yelled, “you got em grandson”.
He had me convinced, but I know that is not the way it played out.
Around 0900, he asked if I was hungry? He pulled out 2 foil packets, and unwrapped a Sammich for each of us.
Slice of braunschweiger, slice of tomato, slice of sweet onion, light mustard and mayo on sliced bread. Yuuuuuuuuuummmmmmmmmm!
We had some more ducks come in and more hit the water. Looking back now, I think I would of had a better chance of finding gold in the blind, than I did at killing a duck.
He pulled the mallard “curl” feather and stuck it in my hat.
We packed up and headed to the local tavern. He was telling them all how his grandson was knocking them out of the air. I could of been using a sling shot and still got em.
When he passed, at the funeral, I walked up and said my goodbyes to my best buddy for the last time. I reached down to his old hands and slipped that same mallard curl into his hand
Thinking back thru my memories all are cherished.
BUT……. I think the one that I smile the most about, is a hunt with my grandfather.
I was probably around 7-8. It was a cold mid November morning in NE Missouri.
I don’t remember the temp, but was cold enough to freeze snot.
There was probably 8-10” of of snow on the ground, and had steadily been coming down since about 8pm, the previous evening.
He woke me up at 0300, I Got dressed and with eyes still full of sleep made my way to the garage.
He grabbed his Remington 870 12 ga, then handed me a Remington 870 16ga.
“Come on grandson, let’s go get some ducks”.
We drove about 20 minutes to a friends farm pond, where he had a makeshift blind made out of 2x4s and covered in cattails. We got settled in, and waited.
Needless to say……. It was cold. He grabbed a thermos and poured 2 cups of black coffee. He handed me one, and I thought I was somebody.
The snow continued to fall, the wind decided to needed to blow a little harder.
Then I heard my first “swoosh” thru the air. I never saw anything, but he said ducks.
a little more light, and I saw them. They were locked up and coming in. He simply said…”Get ready Grandson”.
A group of 8 came in, and as soon as they were ready to hit the water, he said shoot them.
Boom,Boom,Boom,Boom,Boom,Boom. 3 ducks on the water. (I later learned they were mallards).
He yelled, “you got em grandson”.
He had me convinced, but I know that is not the way it played out.
Around 0900, he asked if I was hungry? He pulled out 2 foil packets, and unwrapped a Sammich for each of us.
Slice of braunschweiger, slice of tomato, slice of sweet onion, light mustard and mayo on sliced bread. Yuuuuuuuuuummmmmmmmmm!
We had some more ducks come in and more hit the water. Looking back now, I think I would of had a better chance of finding gold in the blind, than I did at killing a duck.
He pulled the mallard “curl” feather and stuck it in my hat.
We packed up and headed to the local tavern. He was telling them all how his grandson was knocking them out of the air. I could of been using a sling shot and still got em.
When he passed, at the funeral, I walked up and said my goodbyes to my best buddy for the last time. I reached down to his old hands and slipped that same mallard curl into his hand
