Tim and I had made arrangements to hunt a pit on the property of Mike Bryant, just southwest of the Ten Mile Pond wildlife refuge near East Prairie, Missouri. We were to hunt with a couple of friends of the landowner, and the already had decoys out. Both men were avid Snow Goose hunters with all of the gear and experience. Although Tim and I had purchased 400 Texas Rag Snow Goose decoys we didn’t bother to rig them since these guys were already setup.

We had a bit of a problem with the four-wheeler so we had to leg it about ½ a mile from the Silo to the pit in the wee hours of the morning. Our hosts showed up just before daylight and joined us in the pit. After a bit of tutoring we all turned our attention to the sky and the Ten Mile Pond refuge which was holding 75,000 Snow Geese. It was a bitter cold morning and it proved to be quite frustrating as we watched thousands of geese fly high overhead in route to the refuge and to a large congregation of Snow Geese sitting in a rice field a couple of miles away. During the morning we had one group of geese work into the decoys. We dropped two geese out of the bunch. The only other action we had was some pass shooting at some relatively low flying geese. We parted company with our hosts shortly before noon with plans to eat lunch and meet back at the Silo early afternoon so that we could hunt the pit once again.

Instead of grabbing a bite to eat, Tim and I decided to drive over to the Ten Mile Pond refuge to see what 75,000 geese looked like. To our astonishment we drove past several fields that were open to hunters and were covered with thousands of geese. We made our way to the check-in station and saw that someone had already 'checked out' the fields. Since nobody was actually hunting the fields at the time, we drove back down to the parking area and tried to figure out a way to sneak up on several thousand geese. While we were racking our brains trying to come up with a viable tactic, the hunters who had signed up for the field showed up. We pleaded ignorance for a few minutes and they told us we were welcome to hunt the opposite end of the field, which was at least 50 acres in size. While the other two hunters walked off to a tree line on the East side of the field, we headed towards a ditch that served as the northern border for the field. We took up a position on the northwest side of the field, down in the ditch. The geese that had been sitting in the field rose up when the other two hunters walked out. All of them shifted to the next field about 300 yards away.

For the next couple of hours these geese were joined by other geese and ducks. It was quite a sight to watch all of these birds work. The noise made by several thousand Snow Geese is quite substantial. Tim and I had to yell at each other in order to be heard, and we were sitting only 10 feet apart.  At some point, I thought that I heard a vehicle driving through the field next to us and it seemed to be approaching our position. We quickly realized that there was no truck approaching us, instead it was the several thousand geese that had been spooked from their spot by something or someone. Within seconds, we had thousands of geese flying 20 to 30 yards directly over our heads. Tim and I let loose our guns and dropped three geese. What a rush! We don’t particularly like pass-shooting waterfowl but this was definitely worth the breach in etiquette! Over the next couple of hours we shifted our position in the ditch so that we could conceal ourselves beneath some small trees. We managed to pass-shoot four more geese without the use of a single decoy or our new electronic call.

The most amazing point in the afternoon hunt was the last few minutes of daylight. The sight and sound of 75,000 geese roosting less than ½ mile away is truly one you have to experience in order to believe. The closest way I know to describe what we heard that evening is to imagine being outside of the Coliseum during the fourth quarter of a Titan’s football game. The constant roar of an excited crowd that is occasionally further excited by some big play is what we heard. The visual aspect of this event is equally dramatic, as the geese look like a huge swarm of gnats too thick to imagine. They swell around in a constant frenzy relatively close to the ground and occasionally rise up in mass. It was such an amazing sight for Tim and I that we simply sat there to watch and listen. Of course we also decided that we would arrive bright and early so that we could claim the ditch, as well as the entire field, as our own for the next day.

The gung-ho Snow Goose hunters made their way back to Ten Mile Pond at 4:00 AM in an attempt to be the first people in line to pick a spot. While we were startled to see someone else dropping their name in a slot as we pulled up, our minds were put to rest when we saw they chose the field next to the one we intended to hunt. So we checked-in and drove back to Charleston in order to score something to eat for breakfast. Since we had no decoys to put out we returned to the parking area of P field about thirty minutes before sunrise. We sloshed through the mud out to our ditch and took up our positions in anticipation of a resumption of the action we had experienced the evening before.

By 8:00 AM we had managed to pass-shoot five or six geese dumb enough to fly low over our heads. During one break in the action we stuck our heads out of the ditch in order to check out the hunter in the next field. He had about 100 Texas Rags out surrounding his layout blind. He looked much more professional than the two of us, but we had managed to fire five times as often as he. At this point we realized that we had bothered to carry our electronic call with us yet we had not bothered to turn it on a single time. I asked Tim if he thought it would be worth the effort and his response was something along the lines of “what the heck?”. I crawled up out of the ditch and placed the speaker of the call high in the branches of one of the trees we were using as cover. I dangled the speaker cord back down into the ditch and returned to my position so that I could plug it in and fire it up. Unceremoniously, I turned on the power and cranked the volume up to its maximum setting. The noise produced by that call was even more deafening than the several thousand geese that had been sitting next to us the afternoon before. Tim and I traded a few glances and shrugged our shoulders at one another.

Within two minutes, we had about 100 geese circling our position. While I’ve stated that we did not have a single decoy out, I’ve failed to mention that there was also about an inch of snow on the ground in the fields to either side of the ditch. The Snow Geese circling over our heads were doing their level best to spot their cousins in the field below them who were making all the noise. The geese over our heads were soon joined by several hundred more. These were soon joined by 1000 more.  Before we knew what was happening there must have been 5000 Snow Geese circling directly over our heads in a white tornado that was inching closer and closer to the ground. As the geese drew within range Tim and I discovered that our new found success had introduced quite a serious communications problem. Between the electronic call and the real geese overhead, Tim and I had to scream at one another in order to figure out when to shoot. The sight above us was totally unbelievable. Seeing that many geese circle a spot on the ground in opposing directions was absolutely mind-boggling. How they managed not to collide with one another mid-air was amazing. Tim and I probably stared at this white tornado for a good five minutes before we decided it was a good time to shoot. As our guns roared geese began hitting the ground. The next couple of hours were a non-stop frenzy of these silly geese circling over our heads. Unsure of which ones were legal to shoot, we decided to concentrate our efforts on the white geese, as we knew they were fair game.

After two hours, we had less than ten geese on the ground. Our effort at trying to coordinate shots between us on white geese was difficult, even though there were thousands of them overhead. Finally, a blessing in disguise, Tim exhausted his supplies of 10 gauge shells. Instead of calling it quits we simply positioned ourselves directly next to one another so that we could take turns with my 12 gauge, for which I had plenty of shells. During that last hour we took the lion’s share of geese for the morning. It was much easier for one shooter to negotiate a good shot. By the time we realized it was time to go we had 19 geese in the ditch with us.

What a glorious morning of hunting! Our drive back to Murfreesboro was spent reliving the previous 36 hours. It was absolutely one of the most exciting hunts I had ever been a part of.  Since then I’ve seen some fantastic goose hunts on TV, and I am not exaggerating by saying that this one could have rivaled any that I have seen. The sights and sounds of the afternoon and morning we spent on Ten Mile Pond that weekend will live with me for the rest of my life. It was truly an amazing hunt to be a part of!

In hind-sight I have thought about the hunter who was setup less than 200 yards from us that morning.  While we were busy punching holes in the sky with a substantial amount of  steel shot, he only managed to shoot two or three times.  How frustrating it must have been to watch two knuckleheads without a single decoy have the hunt of a lifetime while he had spent the time and effort to bring along a layout blind and about 100 decoys!  We called Ten Mile Pond the next day and were told that 39 Snow Geese had been killed in P field the day before.  I have to think that poor guy quickly assumed our position in the ditch within minutes of our departure and took those 20 extra geese.  Perhaps he ran into town and bought or borrowed an electronic call and left his decoys in the truck?