# Favorite hunts?



## BlackCloud (Oct 12, 2012)

With all the crap that people put on here I'd like to hear about some good stories. So let's hear about some of your favorite hunts you've been on whether it was getting limits or shooting nothing but still having a great time. So I'll start.

Probably my favorite hunt I've been on was last year with Gee ledouche. Me, him and his brother all had a swan tag so we ventured out to bear river to fill it. We used nothin fancy but white trash bags for our decoys and on the other side of is had just normal duck decoys. Within about 15 minutes Gee knocked down a gigantic swan and ended up being the largest swan taken all year long. About an hour later I too my very first swan and shortly after his brother took his swan. Pretty great day right? Well as we were contemplating cleaning up our decoys because there was no ducks flying , a flock of geese come over us and I knocked down my first banded goose. We didn't shoot a ton of birds but it was nothing but pure fun and we had a great time doing it.

Let's hear your stories


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## outdoorser (Jan 14, 2013)

Cool thread. I'll post up some of mine a little later.


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## Pumpgunner (Jan 12, 2010)

Here's a few that stand out from recent years-
Hunting a small spring way out in the desert with my dad-in-law, we get set up and are bombed by a flock of mallards right at shooting light. I shoot and miss, my dad-in-law shoots and hits a mallard that doesn't go down. I watch the flock fly away until they are just specks in the distance, when one of the specks drops out of formation and crash-lands in a small pass between two hills, about a mile distant. We hunt for a few hours more and then I decide to take my dog and walk to another spring that is behind the hills in the distance. As we walk through the pass where the mallard went down my dog got birdy and started rooting around underneath a sagebrush, eventually dragging out a dead greenhead-with a band! Sure enough it was still warm and was the duck that had dropped out earlier that morning. Turned out he was banded on the Great Slave Lake, nearly 1500 miles from where we got him. I couldn't believe that we were able to recover him, that hunt really drove home the importance of hunting with a good dog. Later that day I shot my first and only snow goose, so it was a remarkable day all around!

Another one is a blizzard hunt with 2 good friends and my father in law on Christmas Eve last year, we could barely see more than 50 yards but the ducks were bombing into our little patch of open water like crazy. We had a flock of 3 geese that my buddy called over and managed to get all 3, and a bit later we had a group of 3 drake pintails come over and managed to get all 3 of them also. The pintail that I got had the longest sprig of any pintail that I've shot to date. The snow and low visibility made it seem like the world was only made of snow, ducks, ice, and water. It was an incredible evening.

After I built my first boat I wanted to go on a long hunt to really test it out, so I ended up doing a solo overnight hunt. I hunted the evening in a great storm, the first bird I shot out of my new boat was a drake canvasback which I took as a good omen. After dark my dog and I went on a long walk and sat and listened to hundreds of wigeons that were roosting on a pond whistle and call. I couldn't believe how many ducks were flying around in the moonlight, a few buzzed right over my head as they crossed the dike headed for the open water. I slept in the back of the truck with my dog and we were out the next morning long before light and ended up having a great morning hunt, with lots of divers and a few wigeons working the decoys. We stopped short of a limit and drove out to explore a new area to hunt that evening, we finally pulled into home long after dark that night and I realized that other than a phone call to my wife I hadn't spoken to anyone in 2 days. It was a peaceful and happy feeling.


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## dkhntrdstn (Sep 7, 2007)

i have to many to write right now. but I can say the youth hunts the last couple years have been some of mine. see the young one getting there first duck. nothing bets that in my eyes. Last year helping my buddy son get his biggest swan and then my buddy getting a neck collar swan and a banded can the week before. This year watching my gf get her first duck on her first duck hunt and me getting my first banded good. Like i said there more some of them dont even have any kills in them. but they was still a blast being out in the marsh with great buddy's.


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## stuckduck (Jan 31, 2008)

This one was a complete blast... DIY.. Izembek!

here is the write up.
http://www.duckhuntingchat.com/forum/viewtopic.php?f=59&t=301785


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## Mojo1 (Sep 8, 2007)

No matter the result I don't consider any hunt wasted, even if it's less than stellar there always something to look back on and laugh over. Probably my most memorable Utah hunt that didn't go exactly according to plan was the one where the motor quit and we had to wade the boat back in for 2 miles to the launch.


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## Clarq (Jul 21, 2011)

I've had a few amazing hunts in my lifetime. Spring snow goose hunting in Kansas was definitely one of the best. There's nothing like watching thousands of snow geese slowly swirling down into the decoys, waiting until a flock dares come close enough to shoot.

One very unique hunt that stands out in my mind was the second opening day I ever hunted. The weather was perfect and there were a lot of birds around. Dad and I each brought two boxes of shells, plus five 3 1/2" goose loads for my Dad's gun. As the morning continued, we began to be concerned that we hadn't brought enough (we weren't very good shots, especially back then). We were soon waiting for only the really good opportunities, but even so, our shell supply dwindled. Pretty soon, Dad and I had gone through our two boxes of shells. We had 7 or 8 ducks between the two of us, if I remember right.

We started packing up when I remembered the five goose loads. I handed them to Dad and told him he wasn't done yet. Instead of taking them, he handed me his gun and told me to make them count. 

I only waited for the really good opportunities, but I had a hard time shooting his bigger gun, and missed the first two. The third shot got me a shoveler. The fourth shot hit a gadwall in the back end and sent it sailing into some salt grass 50 yards away.

Dad and I spent a few minutes looking for it, to no avail. We were just about to give up the search and head back to our hiding spot when I heard a loud honk coming from the north.

I turned and saw five geese heading straight for us. They were flying about fifty yards high. We had absolutely nowhere to hide, so Dad told me to "become a bush and hope they don't see us."

We both crouched down. I simply said, "Tell me when to shoot."

"Now."

With one shot left in my gun, I took careful aim, fired and dumped the lead goose, sending it crashing down at our feet, spraying us with marsh water upon its impact.

I picked it up and discovered a band on each leg, one of which was yellow plastic. It was the second goose I'd ever shot, but it's certainly no less memorable than the first.


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## mmunson (Oct 1, 2012)

Me and a friend were out hunting a little pond. We already had a few teal and a green head within a hour of starting time. Then we watched a flock of geese come semi close to us, turned, and watched them land probably 200 yards away behind some brush. I told my friend "lets go! we can sneak up on them!" (I was excited, Ive never shot a goose before) He said "nah, you go. I'll stay here". So I take off thinking I'm about to blast 3 geese. I start sneaking up, crawling and all, then run out of brush to hide behind. I pop up about 45 yards away, jump the geese, shoot all 3 shells, not a single dead goose. I watched them fly around and circle back towards our blind. My friend drops one… Its banded… I was so pissed at first!!! haha! but it was awesome to watch from a distance. That day I got my first limit as well. Good day!


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## dixieboy (Jul 26, 2013)

My favorite was back in '93, I was 10. My dad got called in to work last minute, and my mom felt bad that I was going to miss out on a hunt that he'd promised me for a month or more. She woke me up at 5 told me to get dressed, get my stuff, and go to the kennel and get my dog and she'd be waiting in the truck. She drove me out a flooded creeek bottom behind my uncles farm ponds, gave me some OJ and cinnamon rolls and said good luck. It was my fist duck hunt alone, and the day I shot my first ducks, 2 wood ducks and 1 green head. I was so excited that I took off running back to the house and left my shotgun in the blind leaning next to a cypress tree.


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## Whiskey Hound (Sep 30, 2013)

Had a hunt when I was sixteen or so. It was late season on the south gate of Farmington bay during a white out snow storm. I had my standard four decoys I on a little patch of open water and a good hide in some reads on the edge. Shooting light came and went and I figured it was a busted day so I figured no better time to sing a little on my call. Within about five minutes I had green heads coming through the wall of snow dropping onto the water at about twenty yards. I was still fairly new to hunting and could barely believe my eyes that this was actually working. Birds worked my decoys for about an hour before the valve was shut off and they were gone. I sat in awe thinking to myself I had actually called in birds. As a young hunter I was thrilled and pretty **** proud of myself. I didn't shoot a single bird that day when I easily could have bagged a limit. I was more impressed with the beauty of the surroundings and the birds and guess I didn't want to ruin it. Sometimes it's more about the hunt then a bag limit. 

Sure wish I could remember what I did on the call that day cause i sure as hell haven't been able to do it since!


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## BPturkeys (Sep 13, 2007)

Tumbleweed Wall

All we saw was three or four ducks settling into a harvested corn field a couple hundred yards from where we parked. The pre-sunrise morning light barely enough to spot the cupped wings as the ducks dropped onto the field. Separating us and the field, the old barbed wire fence was completely covered with tumbleweeds and provide the perfect cover for the two young boys to make a sneak on the field that was hidden behind. 
It would be a little over fifty years ago this fall, maybe around 1959 or 1960, that a couple of young bothers arose early one November morning, loaded up there gear and headed out for a morning jump shoot of ducks. The two had never ventured out on their own before. Always in the past, dad would be there with his guiding hand. This was the first of a lifetime of hunts together, the first of a lifetime of memories, a beginning page in a book who's last page has yet to be penned. 
Shepard's Lane, today lined with homes, and intersections leading to vast sub-divisions of track homes, was once, not too long ago, very rural, and very much a place that ducks would come to feed in the grains fields after a short flight from the smashes of the Great Salt Lake. Flocks of Mallards and Pintails were not an uncommon sight, and presented too great a lure to just be ignored by these two boys. 
Jim, the older bother, would shoot his new Winchester model 12, 12 gauge shotgun and Newt, not yet the owner of a gun of his own, would shoot dad's Winchester model 42, .410, the gun that all us brothers used to learn to shoot. The morning was calm and crisp as we loaded the guns and prepared to make the short sneak across the near field that separated us from the field holding the birds. As we walked, we spaced ourselves a little to make room to move and so we would hopefully arrive at the right place to jump the ducks that we hoped lay hidden behind the tumbleweed wall. It was our plan that Jim would shoot the birds, if any, that jumped on the right and I would shoot the birds, if any, that jumped on the left. And so we crouched and started our sneak. I still remember the wet grass squeaking on my boots and the silence of that dewy morning, hoping the birds would hold long enough for us to make our sneak. I remember hoping there would be more than one or two birds jump within range of me and the little .410 that I carried, and I hoping I could knock one down. I remember being a young boy, that beautiful fall morning. We crept across the field like little mice and reached the fence, that tumbleweed wall, without stirring a bird...and then we stood up...and as we stood, the field erupted into a frenzy of motion and noise as literally thousands of birds began to take flight. What we assumed was a small field with a handful of feeding ducks was a giant field of maybe 50 acres, covered with hundreds and hundreds of Pintail ducks. At first only the nearby birds began to rise, but when we both gathered in our wits and fired our guns, the enormity of the flock prevailed and the sky became black with birds. Jim's first bird dropped, as did mine, and then, my world stood still, the roar of beating wings and quacking ducks became mute...the little .410 had jammed in my trembling hands. I lowered the jammed gun and placed the butt on my leg and forcefully worked the action, ejecting the jammed round. But as I brought the pump forward, in the excitement of the event, I had kept my finger on the trigger and as the action slammed shut, off went the shotgun...and to my surprise, down came two more ducks. The field quickly emptied as did our guns and we stood by the side of that tumbleweed wall shaking, two happy brothers, two happy friends for life.

Copyright 2002, BPturkeys


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## sknabnoj (Nov 29, 2012)

My favorite hunt so far was with my little brother. We both have been getting into hunting these past few years and we've been learning a lot. Anyway, I had a Nebo archery tag this past year for buck and we hunted probably 15-20 days during the archery season. We didn't have a lot of luck and we had been pretty discouraged not seeing anything. We decided to go out one morning during the week; we both called in to work and let them know we'd be a little late. It was a rainy morning, a little cold and obviously wet. With the lack of seeing any bucks in the previous weeks, we almost called it a day before we even went out. After some short discussion, we went up anyway; we got to our spot about 45 minutes to an hour before sunrise and nestled down into some cover just outside a pretty big meadow with a small creek running through it. We were outwardly hopeful but inwardly doubtful we'd see anything but, we hunkered down nonetheless and waited. Sunrise hit, it warmed us up a bit but, by this time the light drizzle had soaked us. About 30 minutes after sunrise I spotted something out of the corner of my eye, a pretty good sized doe meandering through the meadow. I gave my brother the look and he spotted the doe as well. As time passed, more and more does kept pouring in to the meadow, about 15 by the end. My brother and I couldn't believe there wasn't a buck in the group but, we were in awe by the amount of deer we were seeing. The doe kept getting closer and closer to us and basically walked right in between my brother and I, some as close as 5 feet away from us. Although we didn't get a shot that day, in fact, we didn't even see anything we could legally shoot, it was so fun to get that close to wildlife. It was like we were invisible, it was a day I'll never forget.


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## RobK (Jul 3, 2008)

helping my son get his first limits and watching Jake retrieve . this year been a big zero as far as getting out with Cutler down . so next year . This was my sons first limit . we got 11 Gads and 1 green head


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