Last year I passed up my annual Louisiana waterfowl hunt to join Beretta and Sako on an epic journey to Finland and Russia. While that trip has trumped all other birthday events, I have fond memories of cutting birds from the Southern skies on the date of my birth celebration.
For multiple years I headed south to the warmer, humid temperatures to take aim at the mini-F14-like Blue Winged Teal. If you haven’t partaken in the hunt, I must warn you that it’s an addicting one. While I’m not a fantastic shot at the zinging orange clay targets at the range, I’ve become quite proficient at blasting the little speed demons from the sky.