View Mobile Site

Outdoor Life: Chasing wild geese at Moonshine Swamp

Outdoor Life: Chasing wild geese at Moonshine Swamp

Outdoor Life: Chasing wild geese at Moonshine Swamp

Alvin Richardson is a contributing wr...


As youthful hunters, we were always on the lookout for new adventures and we found an opportunity when goose season opened one cold winter day — the year of which escapes me. 
    It seems that it was about 1975. I’m able to put an approximate date on the proceedings because I was about halfway through college, quite full of myself and remember that I had discovered the manliness of a big chaw of tobacco, which is crucial to the story. 
    The ambush point was a swamp on the backside of our farm, and I called it Moonshine Swamp because in my ramblings around it over the years I had found several areas that seemed to be the former haunt of those producers of illegal liquor.  Old bottles piled up here and there, alongside rusted-out pieces of big canisters that could have been moonshine stills. I don’t know, maybe there was just a lot of drinking going on out there.
    Anyway, the first clue that there was wild game afoot was the strange noises coming out of the swamp. Upon closer inspection it was decided that the swamp was slap full of honkers of the Canadian variety ,and although we had never hunted for them before a, plan was formulated to waylay them.
    It was not a scientific plan.
    Our brilliant and creative minds decided that the youngest brother (Terry) would go to the far end of the swamp, walk, wade or swim up the middle of the icy water, and scare the birds into a panic-induced flight toward the rest of us lying slyly in wait. We would then proceed to take them down with laser like accuracy.  The plan was dazzling in its simplicity.
    On the business end of the hunt was Dewey (my dad), Fast Eddie Kennedy, Big Dave Parden and yours truly. We intended to form a barrier through which not one goose would escape.  
    We positioned ourselves in a skirmish line across the gap through which the birds would have to come, and I immediately realized that a rip in my waders was going to create a couple of problems, both of which were aggravating.
    My feet and legs were going to soon freeze, and my water-laden waders limited my mobility.
    In fact, I got stuck in the mud and couldn’t budge. No matter, the birds would soon be upon us. 
    Right on cue, we heard the birds start honking nervously as young Terry made his way bravely up the breach. When the geese broke and came over the trees it was a sight to behold. The sky was black with bodacious 20-pound giants and the firefight was on. 
    There was one coming right down Main Street toward me, and my first shot from an anchored position crumpled the big bird. I sighted in on another one trailing just behind him. Just before I pulled the trigger, an unfortunate event took place. The first goose fell right on top of my shotgun barrel and kicked the stock up into my lower jaw. I probably would have survived it, except the jolt knocked a large wad of chewing tobacco down my throat.  That was the end of my exploits for the morning. I could hear shots continue to ring out for a few more seconds before passing out from severe gastric difficulties.  I was able to remain in a standing position due to the stabilizing effect of 40 pounds of ice water in my waders and the fact that I was thigh deep in mud.
    In the meantime, other birds fell and daddy, in a moment of battle lust, mistakenly killed a heron. Then, all of a sudden the shooting was over and I, having regained consciousness, began to squall for help. The boys towed me ashore and the hunt was officially over — except to secure transportation for me back to the house.
    As I examined the morning’s events in retrospect I decided that
    1) I did not like goose hunting
    2) I did not like chewing tobacco and
    3) I would take Terry’s place as the flushing dog if we ever decided to do this again.
    Moonshine Swamp never had the same allure for me again.

    Alvin Richardson is a contributing writer, retired educator, and public speaker. Contact him at dar8589@bellsouth.net.

Interested in viewing premium content?

A subscription is required before viewing this article and other premium content.

Already a registered member and have a subscription?

If you have already purchased a subscription, please log in to view the full article.

Are you registered, but do not have a subscription?

If you are a registed user and would like to purchase a subscription, log in to view a list of available subscriptions.

Interested in becoming a registered member and purchasing a subscription?

Join our community today by registering for a FREE account. Once you have registered for a FREE account, click SUBSCRIBE NOW to purchase access to premium content.

Membership Benefits

  • Instant access to creating Blogs, Photo Albums, and Event listings.
  • Email alerts with the latest news.
  • Access to commenting on articles.

Please wait ...