By Bob Zettler
September 2, 2011[/B]
Okay, how did I get in my Jeep, where the Hell am I and why do I taste potato chips I thought to myself as I regained consciousness parked on an entrance ramp leading to I-72 on Thursday. I mean I am an adult but haven’t been drinking or doing (illegal) drugs and I find my bone-weary body sitting upright in my Jeep with engine running and the A/C pumping out cold air (than God). Am I in “The Hangover Part 3” I think to myself but then it starts to come back to me…
It’s late August and I am primed for the first time in many years for the Early Nuisance Season for Canada geese. You see I went last year and while I connected on three, it was a cluster…you know, type of day and I sure did not want a repeat. This year would be different as I would be prepared and have along people who share the same goals and objectives – kill a limit of local nuisance geese and have fun!
While last year my buddy Gary had to back out at the last minute leaving me scramble to establish a new plan, he assured me it was a go this time and that he would be there around midnight. Yep, we were going to get there bright and early to stake out our spot and be ready for those grey bastards at 5:53 AM on September 1, 2011. To make sure we got a spot, and preferably the spot I wanted, I was going to leave right after work, hitch up the boat, throw my own decoys on board along with a layout blind and get there the night before. I had lists and plans all made well in advance to ensure success this year with as little room for bad luck to interfere as possible. Gary only had to bring his own gear (gun, ammo, etc.), layout, a shovel and good decoys as I had bought food and had plenty of beverages to maintain hydration just in case.
But before I could even leave town I had to run my Lab to the Vet as he had been having issues with his diabetes but even that was an in-an-out visit so with the boat now loaded I made it to Findlay by 8 PM to top off on gas and get ice and some minnows – so we could fish while we waited for sunrise of course! Curses, for the first time ever all they had were smalls and I wanted mediums but I bought six dozen as the Crappie were waiting and my favorite hunting spot holds a lot of White Bass off-shore. Decided to put in at my regular ramp and as I crossed over the bridges I could not see anyone on the water so maybe my anxiety could take a break.
No issues at the ramp as two of the three trailers I saw in the lot weren’t hunters but fishermen and I was motoring out by 9 PM and that was when I discovered my plug-in for the searchlight had failed. Normally that wouldn’t be an issue but the batteries in my handheld searchlights were nearly dead and I had lost my good Mag-Light at the ramp last weekend. No problem, I already had my life-jacket on and used my GPS to steer with short bursts of light from the one searchlight to ensure I wasn’t headed for danger.
Sure enough, I had the spot all to myself and relief set in! I decided to go ahead and fire up the Coleman (white) gas lantern while I was still in the boat so that if anyone was headed my way they would be warned off by its bright glow. Now I love Coleman products for the most part, especially the older models as they seem to last forever and I have had this lantern maybe 30 years and short of a rust spot here and there, it has served me well. I went ahead and put new mantles on and after pumping it up I stuck a match inside the glass globe where it began to spit and sputter. Usually, the mantles catch fire quickly and assume their new texture but this time there seemed to be an issue or two…
As I am turning this dial and that lever, all of a sudden the flames seemed to be coming from all over the lantern and that was when I discovered my one finger felt like it was on fire and it was! With the lantern emitting flames in colors not entirely visible – kind of like those flames a race car driver might not see – it seems some of the flammable fluid/gasses had gotten on my hand and I was cooking. With the immediacy of an experienced first responder, I dipped my hand and bottom half of the lantern in the lake before it exploded and I turned into Johnny Storm (aka, the HUMAN TORCH)! With the bottom half of the lantern dripping water into my lap, the gas globes caught and turned bright white – mission accomplished.
As Gary was bringing the majority of the decoys, I didn’t have much to unload and was done by 10 PM. Not wanted to run the Cell down by getting on the Internet, I got bored quickly. And as it was late and not too many people to call (either), I set out to find something to do and went about untangling a real mess of tackle that had been sitting on the boat’s console for weeks.
That took most of an hour so I then took a little trip around the area and saw lots of fish on the fishfinder. Noting to myself that I would try it out after we got set up I was relieved to hear from Gary that he was at the ramp. Now I had been nervous off-and-on through the evening as I could see a light to the south. Thinking it was another waterfowler who wanted my spot I had not wanted to desert my post but after my trip around the area I discovered it had been nothing but the light from the ramp poking through the trees every now and then – continued relief!
It was a short ride to the ramp and took even less time to get Gary’s gear on board and it was back to our prized spot. Now the year before we had maybe four other hunting parties close by and I saw the first boats looking for a spot around 3:30 AM so we were doing pretty good with it just being after 1 AM and already we were deciding exactly where to dig our trenches for the layouts. After analyzing the freshness of the goose droppings we agreed on a spot that had drier sand than the rest of the area.
The digging was easy what with it being sand and I went the extra mile to clip some willow branches to place around the spot to break up the outline. Did I mention how warm it was? Well, it was 80 degrees at 3 AM and we both had a Blue Moon after digging and setting decoys. And as Gary can sleep anywhere, and I cannot sleep due to Restless Leg, he started to snore and I decided to cruise around and fish.
With winds out of the South I simply went to the south and floated back while trolling with the itsy-bitsy minnows. No takers even with the fishfinder screen blotted out marking tons of fish, so I decided to park the boat around 5 AM and get settled in my layout.
Interesting, here it was less than an hour before shooting time and I hadn’t seen or heard a single boat anywhere and last year we had half-dozen go by right up until shooting time. Sure, there were fewer geese around this year but this early season presents an excellent opportunity for success that I couldn’t believe we didn’t have any local competition as there were at least four spots within half-mile that offered an excellent opportunity to harvest a big old local nuisance goose! As shooting time approached we loaded up and waited as we had heard geese across the water from us all night. Wouldn’t you know it, a single comes honking in right after legal shooting time and starts walking right at me!
However, now both Gary and I are a little nervous as we had heard no other boats, seen no other hunters and it was already a couple of minutes AFTER shooting time and we hadn’t heard a single shot anywhere! We know its September 1 and the opener but what if Shelbyville had changed the rules and closed it down and we didn’t know it? As we pondered silently and between ourselves, that goose kept coming closer until I just had to shoot in self-defense. One down and it was not even 6 AM but had I screwed up and the Green Jeans Squad was high-tailing it towards us? Well, we would just have to face the music as we had more geese coming in! It was a pair and we dump both – halleluiah!
Then, its game on as we (finally) hear shooting to the east, south and north of us - what a relief! Now Gary had suggested I lower the profile of my PowerHunter layout blind by not using the bar that props up the canopy and it had worked without it in place but that changed when we had a large group come in and right on top of us with Gary working his Winglock and me working the flag. As I threw open the canopy with geese just 10 yards above me, the bar hit me right between the eyes and got tangled in my glasses. Gary had dropped one and untangling myself I finally threw a Hail Mary shot at the departing geese that were really out there and dropped one out of the flock much to our surprise.
Since it hadn’t fallen dead and had dropped into the water maybe 90 yards out, I had to get the boat which involved a 150 yard dash before untying it, bringing up the anchors, then getting my wind back before heading out in pursuit. With fairly calm waters I began my search and headed in the general direction he had fallen and then expanded my search several hundred yards in each direction. Stayed at it for what seemed an eternity before having to call it for the time being as I would look later since he could only float towards a couple of places and if he was still kicking, then I most likely had lost him…
Still trying to catch my breath, I told Gary he had to go next and wouldn’t you know it he had one that dropped out there and began low-riding westward. After trying to get Gary to come closer once he was in the boat so I could tell him what my hand/arm signals were trying to tell him, he finally understood and headed to where the goose was trying to hide out. Three shots later and a headless goose makes his way back to the boat. It’s now 8 AM and the temperature was already nearing 90 degrees when we had a flock land a couple hundred yards south of us. And as it was nuisance season where we wanted to do our part to eradicate this poop-machine menace, we decided to put a sneak on them. Unfortunately, the terrain wasn’t as cooperative and Gary got busted as he led the way. Que sera, sera.
At 10:30 we decided to abandon our spot and head out for a look-see around the lake, plus it was already 92 degrees out! I also wanted to try looking for my cripple again and as we came upon an island nearby, we spotted maybe 30 or more geese resting on the beach. After parking the boat on the backside, we set out to do our part and I had Gary lead the way through the woods for I was still barefooted. In the first 200 yards we got busted by two different deer but the geese remained in their spot. Then we went into stealth mode when we got close to where we knew they were resting and that is when it happened. As I carefully stepped behind Gary with my left foot I discovered the ground was littered with Honey Locust thorns! As I quickly took the weight off my left foot with my right foot, you guessed it, I put that foot into more of the thorns. Not wanting to blow our chances and alert the geese, I found myself using my shotgun as a crutch until I could sit my buttocks down on a thorn-free spot and begin to remove the spikes from my feet. Now Gary is a medic and ambulance driver who has seen too many accidents and suicides, so when he turned his head as I exposed my thorn laden soles, I knew it wasn’t good. However, duty called and after the blood congealed and I wiped the sweat and tears from my eyes, we took a different path towards the geese only to run into another deer and have the geese finally abandon their sanctuary. Thank God Gary couldn’t tell if my face had sweat balls dripping down its sides, tears or both…
Took Gary on a cruise and back to the boat ramp to offload his gear – I was at another ramp – around 1 PM where the temperature had just broken 100 degrees. Took the obligatory pictures but no Ghillie suit this time and as he passed me the final item I had left in his truck for safekeeping, Gary accomplished another goal he feared he would and that was he slipped on the algae. With his back and buttocks hitting the ramp at a 100 MPH, he said how surprised he was having only hurt his pride as his lower back seemed fine and he never hit his head.
We said our goodbyes and I headed out to continue searching for my cripple and fill the other two slots I needed for a full limit of five. As I cruised back and forth over the area we had been hunting and then expanding it I was rewarded to spy a goose coming out of the weeds to the shoreline. I roared over to him, cut the engine and stopped ALL forward progress, uncased and then loaded the shotgun as the bird simply sat down thinking I might not see him. One shot and the cripple was mine! I truly never give up…
During the next couple of hours I was lucky enough to take two more but lost the one when it got back up and rejoined its departing flock mates as I went to retrieve it. So, I did get my five as I counted the last cripple in my bag and this was a first for me having never shot an early season limit but good God was it hot and I was B-E-A-T! Loaded up again and headed to the ramp. Five minutes later the motor quits. What the ____! Everything seems in order except that the fuel gauge says empty. Could I have…I must have so I break out the trolling motor and forge ahead for the last mile passing a flock of geese feeding on a goose poop polluted beach along the way. Made it to the ramp, loaded the boat on the trailer and headed home with that wonderful air-conditioning on full blast when I heard from Gary. It seems more than his pride was injured in that fall, or, maybe it was the last 24 hours for him too but it seems he was in pain – a LOT of pain. So much pain that when he made it to Salem and had to use the bathroom he couldn’t get out of his truck due to the pain. So it was off to the doctor for him and some blessed chemical relief …
Trying to keep hydrated, I was drinking a 42-ounce soda to wash down some potato chips I was eating to keep me awake. I always said I would never fall asleep eating Cheetos as they were so crunchy and had worked for me a hundred times over the past 20 years or so but these Lay’s chip would have to do as I wasn’t stopping. Everything went fine until I made it to Decatur but once I hit I-72 the last 24-hours caught up with me. Hadn’t gone three miles and had to pull over under a bridge (for the shade) to close my eyes. However, as every vehicle that passed me caused my Jeep to rock, I decided to move on to the next exit ramp for some rest and refuge. Caught a few winks before heading out again only to almost pass out so tried it again at the next. Thought I had it whooped and set out again only to discover I could not.
Now why do they post signs saying no parking knowing there are no rest stops nearby or places one could stop and rest, while at the same time trying to discourage anyone from driving while tired is beyond me. I mean I drive a lot to hunt and am usually whooped and exhausted when I am heading home but I run into these dilemmas all the time. Look at I-72 from Springfield to Quincy for instance, it is more than a 100 miles and the only place to stop is the Truckstop near Pittsfield. You would think they would allow you to rest on these entrance and exit ramps but noooooo…
Whoops, I digress as usual.
Anyway, I pull over and get back on the entrance ramp where I quickly pass out from exhaustion and that is where I find myself 10 minutes later. Alone in my Jeep near the Interstate and with a mouthful of potato chips I had been eating to keep myself awake. Alas, it didn’t work this time but then again I always said Cheetos would so who knew…
Always keep PLENTY on hand!
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