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Testament to Bennelli!


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So...we are getting set up this past Saturday morning for what appeared to have all the makings of a nice little duck hunt. It had been a fantastic year until a couple weeks ago when constant rains flooded most of the Nooksack River valley and our blind along with it. At last our water levels had finally retreated to a manageable depth, a fair wind was pushing birds from the Northeast and low cloud cover was keeping the birsds at workable heights...things looked good.


It is a 400 yard or so walk to our blind. Dog in tow we set out with great anticipation as from the truck we could see a few thousand or so birds sitting on the water as well as working in the sky above. I set my Super Black Eagle 2 in the blind and kenneled the dogs to stay while my uncle and I set deeks. With the high water from the week previous, and having left our deek bags in the blind tied, I quickly discovered that the no tangle line on our two dozen Herter Millenium suc ducs more resembled a rats nest than they did tangle free line. Needless to say what normally was a 5 minute job turned into 10 then 15 minutes or so as I sorted through the jumbled mess of lines. Finally, the last mallard and hen in place with our motion deeks flying nicely, I headed back to the blind and our eagerly awaiting dogs.


As I stowed the deek bag under my side of the seat and went to step up into the blind, I noticed something was missing...my gun I thought, where is it?! I looked at my lab then my uncles lab and quickly deduced that they must have somehow knocked the gun from it's spot where it was resting in the corner of the blind. That could mean only one thing...it was in two or three feet of water at my feet somewhere.


Quickly, I felt around with my foot and sure enough had to fish my gun out of the soup, 2-3 feet of muddy soup with muck and grass and all kinds of undesirable, gun fowling crap on it. I checked it for anything that may have been in the barrel, tipped her upside down and then back a time or two to get all the water out and finally cleaned the mud away from the open action. Then I loaded her up, after deeming her ready to roll, and gave my uncle a look that was as close to a "hope and pray she works" look as I could muster.


As the first birds of the morning lit in our deeks my uncle and I rose, dogs tensed and on mark, firing two quick taps at a couple mallard drakes. Without fail my Benelli was right on as if nothing had happened. Just like clockwork every shot went off and out without a hitch all day long. You know she got a good strip down cleaning when she got home!


Thanks Benelli!

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