Cafeoutdoors.com: Swan Lake-Fountain Grove memories...

Scout we could have been brothers up there it sounds like. I didnt live that close dammit. it was an hour and a half drive to get there. Bail out of a 1971 turd brown ltd of grnadpas at the state house to listen to the roar of geese in the distance. Stomach would start churning....... heaven forbid you had to use the outhouse at the sate building. Never been around such a stinkin nasty brown building in my life. Appearently i wasnt the only one who got nervous with anticipation of the hunt.
You could cut the smoke in the state house with a knife. Grandpa did his part, always lit up an el producto cigar as he walked in. He seemed to know everyone. The "old men" always joking with him "i see ya brought help today". Made me feel ten feet tall. Lookin at the mounts behind the glass cases daring to dream that someday you would get lucky enough to shoot a Giant Canada.....Listening to the speech and slide show. dont ya know teh agents got to get tired of that everyday.
It was before the days of drawing numbers on the extra board. They was BLACK BALLS!!!!! such dissapointment when ya heard Jack yell "BLACK' and tehn right back to drawing.
Scout i also shot gees off of Reed back then for the 5 dollar fee. But our fall back was always Goose Paradise, down by the B pits and behind the A's. We ahd openin weekend reservations there for years with Dean Ripson. That was a trip and a half bein a young boy. I have talked with Fastman bout those days, he worked there, but i was too little to remember him. You could always get good shooting advise if you were in one of the pits close to the parkin lot

Even my dad would take off and shut down a combine for the opener. Got hooked on waterfowl, mainly geese, and all that goes with it in those concrete bunkers. Smell of burnt powder, hearing the same stories told over by the same men. It was aslways teh same crew on opener for us. My dad, both grandpas, Garnett Todd, jerry carter, adn then finally me.
the last hunt i was on up there was something special. prolly why i never ben back. it was after the days of teh black balls. It wass Numbner drawing by then. Had both gradpas with me that day. wasnt but a handful of pits killin any geese. They say down and sent me to draw a number. Its teh only time in my life i ever drew out the NUMBER ONE PILL. Grandpa campbell had to look at for a while knew i was messin with him. still had to roll the cage to see what pit we were goin to get. They rolled and popped out J-2. One of the best on the place at that time.
We ate a hurried breakfast at the honey house and then to the pit. I had borowwed dads gun that day. but as we unloaded the car and Grandpa got out his ithica mag 10, he reached back in the trunk and got out a 3 inch browning and handed it to me. Thought i might like to shoot it that day. It didnt take long and we were done. Lookin back I wish we had stayed all day. We dropped teh geese off to be cleaned and drove around to the silo and just watched while we waited on birds to be cleaned. Got stopped at the ususal checkpoints told em 3 hunters 6 geese and came home. That spring my grandpa came down with lymphoma, that was his last season at swan. the other grandpa stuck around a few more years but we never went back to swan. Alzhiemers took him yrs back, but he still remembered that hunt. I would give just about anything for my son to have known his great grandpas. they wouldhave gotten a kick out of each other. Nathans memories are different than mine as kid growin up hunting. he will remember Chuck and his boys and the old man. thats ok too. As long as teh stories are still there the setting isnt as important as the fact he did it. hell we all did it. it aint the limits that always stick out in ones mind. the misses seem to stick out more

Scout thanks for the sidetrip down memory lane!

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