Rice With Cabeza and Lengua

The Killing Fields Part III

Cliffy all brushed up

I awoke to "dude aren't you cold?"  Cliffy was telling me it was time to get up and kill all of those green head bastards we saw the night before and I listened to in my dreams.  The clear sky brought freezing temperatures and winds.  Brennan, Cliffy and myself took blind #2 and Kevin and Mario, the sheriff, took blind #9.  "Hunt the weather" was Kevin's motto of the day.  We arrive at the blind and wade out to the center of a rice field in calf high water.  To my surprise all the blocks were set up so all there was left to do is set up Leroy and Brennan's Mojo.  We jump in the pit and watch an amazing sunrise, but not one duck in the pre-morning fly.  Killing time is upon us and still nothing.  From the distance towards all of the refuges it sounds as though there is a war going on, "what about us?" I mutter under my breath.  Geese.  Geese is all we saw all morning flying over our heads, and they're smart enough to know how high they have to be to be out of range.  Bastards!  So with the amount of geese flying what do these smart guys do?  We head over to the goose field that already has the goose decoys set up, "hunt the weather boys" rang in my head.  Head back to camp and refuel, Kevin and Mario are done, they left, wives things.  So the three of us head out to the field and hunker down and brush up.  It's early about 12:30 and I'm thinking a nice nap will be in order.  But no, as soon as we settle in two sets of geese are wanting us.  Must have been something we did or did not say, they bolted.  With the sun shinning in my face and about 58 degrees of warmth surrounding me I fall asleep.  I wake up to Brennan calling some geese in, I'm ready!  Same as before, nothing, but we are encouraged to be seeing more geese than we did the day before, were thinking evening fly is going to go off.  Well mid-afternoon turns into sun setting over our shoulders with nothing to show.  Cliffy and I took a couple of shots at a set coming in but nothing.
  

Mr. Mojo risin

Were back at the club now, it's quite, fire still smoldering.  Ahhh.  A nice dinner of aged rib-eye a good night sleep and hit the fields in the morning.  There's a knock on the door.  "Bueno" I respond knowing who it is.  "Juan!" we all exclaim.  It's Juans birthday and he has invited us all over for tacos.  We look at the steak sitting on the counter and think, just a couple of tacos and we'll be back to you later.  Well Juan stuffed us with cabeza and lengua tacos.  He was quite the host very proud of what he has put in front of us, and we were very happy too.  The steaks go back in the cooler, a night cap is had and 8 hours of sleep are in front of us.  This is living.

Morning brings another day.  There are two other teams there vying for some ducks and we get blind no. 7.  What could be better I think, last day and we get no. 7.  This blind is not in the middle of a field but on the side.   Freezing temperatures and winds greet us as we settle in and wouldn't you know it there is a pre-morning fly!  We are seeing ducks!  Our mouths are watering, "hey did ya see that?" we would keep say to each other.  Morning bell rings.  It was as like the ducks were soaking wet and the wind just dried them up.  Not another duck was seen the rest of the morning.  Geese Geese everywhere.  Even unloaded my gun at one in frustration.  With a long ride ahead of us we call it at 10.  Get back to camp pack up and say our good byes.  Even Juan came over to see us off, I think he got a kick out of us not getting any ducks every day.  With the camp in the rear view mirror we are on our way home.  No ducks killed not even a goose, and an experience I would do all over again.  Thanks Brennan and Kevin, like I said at the end you guys are always welcome here, and we will show you just as many ducks.  


GBCH.