I had been in the flooded timber before but to a point he says is just the beginning. This was where I had one of my first bird hunting experiences though I was wielding a golden retriever on a leash instead of a shotgun. My memory of this place is a special one for it was there that I saw more birds than I have ever seen at one time in my life. That day, Tim fired his three shots into a flock and all hell broke loose. The black cloud rose up from the depths of the swamp in a massive spiraling cyclone like nothing I can describe. Angus, the golden retriever, nearly ripped both my arms off in his excitement. There were all varieties of ducks and geese that day. There was no way to count them. Tim ended up with five blue winged teal from his three shots. Not bad at all.
|Blue Grass Sod Farm - Apparently some of this grass went to South Africa for the 2010 FIFA World Cup|
Getting back to this Sunday, we loaded up the trike and drove out to the Blue Grass Sod Farms where we have permission to park and use the entrance trail to the flooded timber. It was really wet and muddy and the old three wheeler with both of us on it was getting bogged down. We decided to try the other side of the ancient man made channel in hopes that there might be a shallow point where we could cross. We soon discovered that this was not going to happen unless we felt like going for a dip in the icy, rushing water. Not happening. We decided to just follow the side of the channel we were already on and go for an adventure to see what we could find.
The first thing we found was a giant ant hill that materialized under one of the rear wheels of the trike sending Tim into a face plant in the thistles and myself into an acrobatic tumble trying to keep my bow from smashing to the ground with us. I was a little ticked at first that we had tipped the trike but the image of Tim diving face first into the ground had me rolling on the ground in a fit of laughter. We were unharmed in the fall which is why it became funny after wards and I could not, for the life of me, control my giggling for the rest of the trip.
There was a fresh looking quad trail veering off from this point at the end of the channel. We went down there a little ways but the ground was getting spongy and we were bogging down in the mud. We parked by what appeared to be a moose trail crossing through the brush and Tim walked ahead to scope out the rest of the trail. I stayed by the trike since I only had my hikers on and he had rubber boots. By the time he got back all the black flies in the area had started an attempt to feast on my head so I wasn't terribly disappointed to hear that the trail was too wet to proceed any further. We turned around and made our rather uneventful journey back to the truck.
Our last excitement of the adventure was one of the boards of our trike ramp breaking and Tim almost getting crushed by old Big Red. Again, this only became funny after it was established that he was fine other than a skinned knuckle. I was lost in yet another fit of giggles the entire drive back to the cottage wishing I had Tim's face plant on film. I'm sorry I know you are going to read this Tim but that was just way too funny. Thank you for a fantastic day.
Cheers all, and have fun hunting even if you don't get anything!