EATON — Brad Petersen had heard the eports, seen the pictures.
“A friend was hunting the week before Thanksgiving in Montana and northern Wyoming, and he said they were just covered up in mallards,” the veteran waterfowler said, describing a continuing pattern that keeps most migrating ducks and geese somewhere north of Colorado.
As he said this, Petersen gazed expectantly toward a small lake just a half mile away where the cacophony from an estimated 4,000 geese and a scattering of ducks announced preparation for a nocturnal raid on neighboring corn fields.
“Hunting won’t get good until we get some birds down from the north and these ponds freeze up,” he declared.
Petersen’s greater winter preoccupation is with duck hunting along the South Platte River, which will not prosper as long as birds enjoy the relative sanctuary of lakes and ponds.
With 8,000 webbed feet paddling furiously, this shallow body of water is in no danger of freezing, even in last week’s frigid temperature. Nor, in the absence of significant storm activity on the northern prairie, is there much prospect for a large waterfowl migration in the immediate future.
Thus Petersen turned his attention Monday to geese, joining five equally eager companions in a large pit where a corn crop had been harvested, then turned with a disc. Yet another foul condition prompted this afternoon congregation; a bright moon with clear skies caused most northeast Colorado geese to work a night feeding shift.
“The full moon has killed us. We haven’t fired a shot in the morning for the last couple days,” said John Young, who leases this nd numerous other waterfowl locations through Woods & Water Outfitters, 303-638-4160.
These webbed feet belonged to a breed of short-grass prairie geese, or lesser Canada geese, if you prefer. These represent the vanguard of the migration into eastern Colorado, always leading their much larger cousins by a matter of weeks.
“We’ve seen a bunch of greater Canadas come down the past few days and some of the small birds left during last week’s cold snap, which is a good trade,” Young observed.
“Those little geese aren’t much bigger than pigeons,” the Windsor resident said, exaggerating. “They don’t like bad weather.”
But, to waterfowl enthusiasts who have waited anxiously nine months for this event, a goose is a goose is a goose. Addicted to the age-old tableau of deceit through camouflage and decoys, they will grasp any excuse to stage a hunt.
Now, with the sun inching ever closer to its daily rendezvous with the Continental Divide, anxiety mounted at both pond and pit. As the honking grew louder, a little flock of snow geese sprang into the air, circled briefly, then splashed back down amid the melee. Hunters glanced nervously at watches, then at the red wrecking ball sinking into the west.
The close presence of so many birds proved both blessing and curse.
“They generally don’t like to land so soon after taking off,” Young declared. “We’ll have to do a lot of flagging to bring them in.”
The first to depart, a flock of a couple dozen, flew resolutely southwest to some established feeding spot and a steady string of birds trailed in their wake, as if following some invisible sky trail. Later, in an eruption of wild wings, the remaining geese rose from the pond like a solid, dark parasail, a sight and sound in itself worth all the effort of the hunt.
Enough birds came close to add some shooting to the overall excitement and provide a modest bag that included an uncommon speckled-belly goose.
Better days surely are ahead for a season that lasts deep into February for Canadas, longer for snow geese. In fact, prospects seem likely to improve almost immediately.
“We’ll have good hunting as soon as the moon changes,” Young said of a condition that bodes well for December.
But there’s always a trade-off in goose hunting. All those early-morning birds also mean a lot less sleep.
Charlie Meyers: 303-954-1609 or cmeyers@denverpost.com
