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Kellar with a few ducks in the hand |
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Matt in the camo kayak |
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Happy Hunter |
It has been quite a few years since i have had the opportunity to get some hunting done. This year was different. I was back in New Brunswick for the funeral of a very close friend, Matt Sloan, and took some time to reconnect with old friends and mourn my loss. I did much of this reconnecting and grieving while out in the wild, up to my knees in mud and soaked in rain, trying to knock ducks out of the sky.
I did lots of go-karting and a little fishing too, just going through all the old motions of having care free fun. Fireworks and night fishing with spaghetti, beer, and garlic toast on the side. Good times for sure, but missing a friend and the true care free spirit of youth.
We got lots of ducks, and I even got a Canada goose on opening day. It looked a bit like the exploded turkey from Christmas Vacation when it came out of the oven on Thanksgiving, but it tasted delicious. As my aunt said, it just needed a bit of cranberry sauce. Or as my uncle said, cook it with a brick on top, and then eat the brick.
I spent three days hunting with my friend Adam. During which time we missed around 20 ducks in a row, and feared that all hope was lost. We would surely starve and look like fools to all our friends.
However, redemption came on the last day as we stalked into the marsh and came upon 3 big Black ducks. We rushed towards the ducks in the pond. Our guns were raised, ready to fire. The ducks flew upwards and the shotguns roared. Three shots were fired, but all the ducks were still flying away. Until Adam fired one last shot and knocked the farthest duck out of the sky. It was a monster North Shore Black duck. I had told him to be patient and aim before firing, which he did successfully. Too bad I couldn't take my own advice.
That one duck was big enough for his mom to make a stew, but she asked for two ducks. So, as we were walking back along the shore I dropped a nice wood duck over another pond. That was the two ducks for his stew pot, so we called it a trip and drove back to Fredericton. We smelled like gunpowder, vachon cakes, and dead duck, but it was worth it in the end.
There was a few other trips, but I'll save those stories for later. I hope to make lots more visits in the future as well. It was amazing.
Happy Hunting
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James in canoe: very happy |
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Moon-rise on Grand Lake |
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Grand Lakes Most Wanted old timers |
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Proper Preparation Prevents Piss Poor Performance. So clean your guns. |