Introduction
The outdoors has special meaning to me. I caught my first fish at age 4 and shot my first duck at age 9. Nearly four decades later I still get excited when I get to spend any time outdoors. A lot has changed during that time but the anticipation and experiences are still similar and just as exciting. It’s a great place to be....Read More
These days I enjoy many different types of hunting. I’m an avid, some might say rabid, waterfowler. I love to bowhunt and have traveled the country doing so for various big game species, although I’m fairly content with Kansas whitetails and turkeys now. And when it’s not hunting season I’m usually fishing. I love to fish for walleye, crappie and channel catfish. I’m at home on the front of my boat on a big reservoir or wading a small Flint Hills stream. It’s all good.
Throw in a recent bout with the trapping bug and decades of camping with family and friends and it’s obvious I have an addiction for the outdoors.
Many of my most memorable outdoor experiences in recent years have centered on those with my children. My 18-year-old daughter and twin 12-year-old boys have been a major part of my outings. Watching their eyes light up as they realize the wonders of Mother Nature and her bounty likely has even more meaning than my own personal satisfaction. Spending quality time with them outdoors carries significant and substantial meaning, no matter what we’re doing.
In this Blog I’ll attempt to relay some of the enjoyment and satisfaction I get from being outdoors. Topics covered will be broad in scope and run the gamut. It’s all fair game. If you can sit at your computer and read a particular entry and it stirs you to try it, or helps make your experience more enjoyable, I will be pleased. And if it does nothing more than make you smile or laugh that too, will please me. The outdoors is truly a great place to be!
Good luck!
Marc Murrell
Monday, February 13, 2012
OUT WITH A BANG
We met and headed out about 3:30 p.m. A 20 mph brisk north wind dropped the real 30 degree temperature even more, but not enough to keep the wheat field from being a muddy mess. We put out a couple dozen full-bodies and some Canada goose shell decoys and huddled into a make-shift blind of cedar boughs.
Craig wasn't even back from parking the truck when a flock of big Canadas tried to land just outside the decoys. Tom and I managed to bag one big ol' 12 pounder and the hunt was on. The rest of the evening was spent working a few birds and I realized how much I'd missed field hunting geese. By the end of the evening we'd managed to bag seven nice birds ranging in size from 8 to 12 pounds.
But the highlight of the day might have occurred without a shot even being fired. We thought most of the action was over so we decided to put our guns away and pick up a little before sunset. As guns were stowed Craig hollered, "Look at that!"
I turned just in time to see a lone Canada land near the decoys. Simultaneously, Craig and I said, "It's got a neck collar!"
I looked at my watch and it was 6:03 p.m. We all looked at each other wondering exactly what time legal shooting time was over (I later looked and it was 6:02 p.m.) Despite never having seen a neck collared bird in the decoys we all decided it wouldn't be the cowboy way to shoot him after he landed anyway. We all hoped we'd meet again.
They hunted the rest of the weekend without seeing the neck-collared honker and the season ended Sunday. It's all good and hopefully he survives until next fall. Who knows, maybe he'll show up again and one of us will be ready. I hope so.
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