I’ve never been big on making New Years resolutions. If changes in a person’s lifestyle are needed, why wait for a once-a-year occasion? Do it then and there. My New Year’s Eve ritual is more goal-oriented. When you hit “mid-life”, (and I’m not really comfortable with that term since I don’t know a lot of 100-year-olds), goals are very beneficial to a healthy, happy lifestyle. Since some of my most satisfying hours are spent outdoors hunting, fishing, boating, snowshoeing or just exploring and taking photos, it’s only natural that objectives for the upcoming year are centered around these recreations.

Don’t get me wrong, alterations in house and yard, family travel, work goals and other mundane day to day activities are considered, but usually don’t make the top three. I’m not being selfish, only realistic. I’m betting that St. Peter at the Pearly Gates doesn’t have a lot of new visitors declare, “Gee, I wish I had worked a couple more weeks during my life.” Rather, these heavenly bound souls are stating truths such as: I’d sure like to have spent a few more days fly fishing; I shouldn’t have kept putting off that elk hunt, I knew I should have visited Alaska last year; or, now I’ll never get the chance to climb Katahdin or paddle the Allagash.

If I have my way, there will be very few, “I wishes” and lots of “So glad I tried it’s”. Is this your year to learn to fly fish? Are you going to try sporting clay shooting? Will you finally fish Alaska or hunt Africa. Perhaps learning to tie flies, build a rod, load shells, or carve decoys is the plan for a New Years pastime. Maybe it will be time for a new gun you’ve always desired, that first trip to cast for Atlantic salmon, or something as simple as visiting that lake in the next county you’ve always wanted to fish. Declare your desire and do everything humanly possible, within reason, to carry through. Outdoor opportunities change each year, some decline or disappear completely, and we are on limited time schedules with no guarantees for tomorrow, let alone next year.

My quest

I made up my mind last January to attempt a hunting feat that while not record-shattering or headline worthy, would be difficult, personally challenging and very satisfying if successful. In my many years as a sportsman and outdoor writer, I’d never heard or read about anyone else attempting or accomplishing this goal. Perhaps someone has, intentionally or unintentionally, and others certainly will, but as far as I’m concerned it was a pioneer effort.

If only one type of hunting were available to me, the quarry would have to be Canada geese. They are wary, wily waterfowl and always challenging to hunt. I have pursued honkers in Maryland, Delaware, Connecticut, New York and several Canadian provinces, but never thought I’d see the day that Maine offered such outstanding goose hunting. My goal for the 2003 season was to take geese with every legal gauge shotgun.

As tough and heavily feathered as these huge birds are, I knew that the 20, 28 and especially the .410 would require close range head shots to quickly and humanely dispatch each goose. I chose to use Bismuth shot rather than steel because it offers better penetration and knockdown power, as well as a bit denser, more dependable patterns at maximum range. Bismuth is also available in all gauges, while tungsten and Hevi Shot, while just as effective, are produced in only two or three gauges and lengths. Nonetheless, I was sure I would have to pass up many opportunities at geese to secure just the right distance, altitude and body position.

Since I didn’t own a .410 or 28 gauge shotgun, I set out to find just the right ones for my quest. My wife insists that my New Year’s goal was just a ruse to buy two new scatterguns, but of course that never entered my mind, well, almost never-it was just one of those collateral benefits! The 28 was easy, my choice was one of L.L. Bean’s New Englander models, a classic over and under built by Rizinni that offers classic style and svelte lines reminiscent of an old Fox or L.C. Smith.

I definitely wanted three shots from the .410, and to cycle all of them quickly if necessary, a semi automatic was the key. Since not one gun company was currently producing a .410 semi in 2003, I had a problem. Dozens of phone calls, faxes and e-mails couldn’t unearth even a second hand one. Van Raymond saved my bacon, when by shear coincidence I was in Bangor the weekend of the gun show and decided on a spur of the moment to stop by.

I was over halfway through the dealers on hand when I arrived at the Van Raymond Outfitters booth and stopped to exchange pleasantries with my old acquaintance. After a few minutes I asked if he had seen or heard about any auto .410s at the show. “Other than the one I’ve got” he asked grinning. By luck, Van had one Remington1100 left of three he had specially ordered from a limited production the previous year. I had my baby boomer, the last piece of my arsenal puzzle, and now all I needed was open goose season.

Hunting honkers

Step one of my goal took place during the early goose season on September 12 in a cut grain field near Reed’s Pond in Fort Fairfield. Besides my wife, who was the first to hear my idea of a goose for every gauge, frequent hunting partner Beaver Pierce and cousin Steve Hitchcock were the only people privy to my plan. Both were on hand for this late afternoon outing. I wasn’t worried about taking birds with my 12 and 10 gauges, the smaller bores would be tough however, so I decided to start in the middle on this first hunt. I carried a Browning Gold semi auto 20 gauge.

A group of four honkers broke off from a larger flock and swung close to investigate. I called the shot. Steve took a double, I scratched down one and Beaver dropped the bird nearest him. Things were quiet for almost an hour, and then we coaxed a group of 10 within 25 yards, necks out, feet down and ready to land. This time my 20 accounted for two geese to finish my limit, Steve took one and Beaver doubled up. Nine honkers and step one of my quest was over.

September 19 at 5:30 A.M. our trio met again and set up our decoys on a harvested potato field near Route 1 in Mars Hill. My Remington1100 .410 seemed like a pop gun compared to what I’m used to. The boys understand that I’d take only close shots and if the goose didn’t drop, they were to use their 12s to finish the job. I wouldn’t chance a wounded bird getting away.

Within 15 minutes of opening time a single checked us out, I sweet talked him with my Sean Mann flute call and he set up and floated within 20 yards. I sat up, fired once and the big Canada dropped without a flutter. The next chance was also a single and Steve and Beaver gave me the go ahead. They wanted to see the little pop gun work again. A passing head shot at 25 yards dropped the goose and now I’d passed part two of the test. I was then content to call and watch my buddies sort out four geese in the next hour.

Saturday, September 20, it was time to put the L.L. Bean New Englander 28 gauge to the test. It was a wet, foggy morning and the geese weren’t flying much in our vicinity. A lone goose appeared without a sound, wings set, intentions obvious, and once again the boys favor me with the first shot. At 15 yards the goose crumpled like it ran into a glass wall.

After the other guys played hit and miss with a couple of small groups and accounted for a trio of birds, I got another chance as a pair swung in to check out the decoys. At a bit under 30 yards, left to right, my top barrel rocked the honker, and my bottom barrel finished the job. Two more geese in the larder and I was halfway to my goal and still in the early native goose season.

September 25, a cut barley field near Monson Pond in Fort Fairfield and I was carrying my Browning Sweet 16 semi. I took a single and Steve tagged a double from the first trio to visit. Another single flew in and the Sweet 16 now had two birds to its credit.

I switched to my Benelli Super Black Eagle 12 gauge and finish my limit with a bird out of a flock of six. Beaver and Steve also whittle down the group to fill their limits. Two guns and gauges in one outing, and the ends in sight and I’m getting anxious and excited

It’s the second season, October 10, before I get to use my deadly Browning Gold 10. Ben LeBlanc, senior and junior, are with Beaver and I on this afternoon outing near Christina Reservoir in Easton. We limit out within 90 minutes and I have no trouble reaching out and touching my two geese with the big bore 10 gauge.

Although I was supposed to be finished, one more step was required to satisfy my every gauge goal. I’ve wanted to try a Knight TK 2000 single shot muzzle-loading 12 gauge. It was my first attempt to take game with a black powder shotgun. Beaver and I set up in a cut grain field in Bridgewater on October 18 at 3:30 in the afternoon. A double and two singles account for our limit within 40 minutes and with lots of noise and smoke the muzzle loader really reached out and touched my two honkers, and with no second shot, the first one had to be a good one.

In less than a month, I’d managed what I set out to accomplish. Geese with all gauges as well as a black powder gun and not a bird lost. It wasn’t easy. It took planning, good calling, careful shooting and desire to accomplish a unique and special aspiration. I wasn’t trying to prove a point or impress anyone, just to keep life challenging, stimulating and satisfying.

Don’t settle for average. Rise above ordinary. A new year deserves a new challenge. Set a goal for one of your favorite outdoor sports and the new year will have new meaning. Here’s hoping yours is a happy, healthy one with lots of time afield and afloat.

Outdoor feature writer Bill Graves can be reached via e-mail at bgravesoutdoors@ainop.com