Photo by Neal and MJ Mishler

January is a phenomenal month for goose hunting in Oklahoma -- because several of the state’s hotspots positively bulge with migrant flocks of Canada geese.

The bulk of this annual southward migration will be seen occupying the fields, lakes, watersheds, and rivers of central and Western Oklahoma. It’s the time to don your cold-proof outerwear, grab the autoloader, stuff a box or two of steel BBs in your camouflage parka, and hit the goose fields.

Although geese may appear to be flying low and slow, they’re actually one of the most challenging game birds to take on the wing, and can make even the best hunter question a shotgun’s effectiveness at times, as they seem to soar past unscathed by the volleys of steel hissing up from the fields below.

While some waterfowl numbers have dwindled in the past decade, goose numbers have risen or remained steady. This species’ stability ensures that all flyways will be filled with the aerial cacophony of honking geese as they wing their way south, propelled by bitter northern temperatures that drive them to the haven of milder climes.

Having hunted geese for nearly 30 years, I can honestly say that I’ve taken honkers in almost every hunting situation imaginable. I’ve bagged geese over decoys, shot geese over water, killed geese that I stalked while they were feeding in a field, and even done some pass-shooting. One thing I’ll readily admit to: No matter how you prefer to hunt geese, the sport is addictive!

I’ve been on hunts that were over so fast that it hardly seemed worth the hour spent setting out the magnum-sized decoys. I’ve also been afield amid ideal situations, when the weather was so bitter that it was truly conducive to a textbook goose hunt, and seen nary a one fly by. Another thing about geese: Just when you think you’re on to a sure thing, they make you eat humble pie.

Case in point: A few seasons back, I was out with Shane and Brandon Risley near Deer Creek, where the goose-hunting brothers had patterned a huge flock that had spent nearly four days in a row ravaging a vast wheat field. We arrived at our spot in the pre-dawn hours and were greeted by a temperature of 18 degrees and a slight northerly breeze, which amplified the numb ache of bare cold through wind chill. Luckily, the Risleys had secured permission to haul every decoy they owned to the back of this wheat field, nearly a mile from where we parked.

We traversed the multiterraced feed field before arriving at a spot heavily littered with goose droppings and down. I felt more confident about that morning’s hunt than I had about any goose outing I’d ever been on. I almost started feeling guilty, thinking of the huge flock that soon would land in our spread -- and imagining us sheepishly tagging three-quarters of our limit with the first volley.

Our 10 dozen Canada decoys were set up by the numbers, the resulting “family groups” perfectly imitating a real flock. I would occasionally hear geese honking high overhead as I searched the ebony skies for the source of the sounds -- ironically enough, as it turned out.