Worth Every Penny (11/30/10 Duck Hunt)

The forecast called for light snow, turning to freezing rain.  This, I hoped, would get the ducks moving so I could get a quick hunt in before heading off to work.  The weather man was right.  After my decoys were in place, I sat still for about an hour just downriver from one of the spots that Eric and I hunt so much.  The river was way down this morning and ice was still clinging to the shoreline.  It was not, however, nearly as icy as the last time I was on this side of the river.  As I sat still, the light snow fell all over me.  By the time shooting time arrived, my gun had about 1/2" of snow on the stock.  At 6:55, I starting scanning the skies for ducks.  I watched until 7:10 when a pair of gadwalls circled my decoys.  I was a little surprised that they gave my spread a second glance because of the way I had to set it up.  Because of the ice and low water level, I had to set the decoys right where the water turned to ice which still put the farthest decoys about 45 yards out.  The gadwalls circled lower.  I let them pass overhead one more time and gave them some soft quacks.  They kept coming.  Finally, they cupped their wings and committed to landing.  Just before touch down, I fired a shot and scored the drake.  He fell stone dead in the water.  I touched off a shot at the escaping hen.  No luck, she was too far away. 

That was it.  That was the morning rush of birds.  Not quite what I had in mind, but not every day can be a limit. 

In those hours that I sat and waited, I was first covered in snow.  As the morning wore on, the snow turned to sleet and ice.  Shortly before I picked up to leave, I realized something that will stick with me forever; DON'T SKIMP ON DUCK HUNTING GEAR!  Here is why.  As I pushed the hood back on my hunting sweatshirt, it moved as one solid piece of ice.  Without me realizing it, all of the snow and ice had accumulated on my hood and shoulders and frozen itself solid while I remained warm and toasty, with the exception of my hands.  I bought that sweatshirt this fall because it was supposed to be waterproof and keep me warm.  It did that and more.  I would not pay over $100 for a sweatshirt on most days, but this one was worth every penny!

Slow Day in Finley (11/28/10 Duck Hunt)

To say that today was slow would be the understatement of the year.  Today's crew consisted of me, Eric, Franki and Derek.  Eric picked Franki and I up at 3:30 this morning, as we had a little longer drive than normal.  We were on our way back out to Finley.  After our arrival, Eric parked the truck and hopped out.  I did too.  We left the kids in the truck to stay warm while we took a load of decoys down to the water.  As we started to unload the decoys from the bags, we were both nearly blinded by headlights which stopped right next to the river bank.  Eric and I looked at each other and were probably thinking the same thing; why did we park so far away when we could have pulled up right here?  Eventually the truck left and Eric went back to move his truck to the spot where the other truck had come in and left.  He unloaded the boat and we got the spread set for the day.  We went back to the truck to stay warm until shooting time which was still a little over an hour away.  The warm air put me right to sleep.  Not a light sleep, either.  The wake-myself-up-from-snoring-too-loud kind of sleep. 

Eric woke everyone up at 6:40 and it was game on at that point.  I just knew that I would get my canvasback today.  Holy cow, was I wrong!  We sat freezing in the lingering fog for quite a while.  Time passed and finally, something worked into our decoys.  A teal had landed and was sitting in the middle of the decoys.  The bird jumped back into the air.  Franki and Derek shot and missed.  Franki shot again.  Another miss.  Well, that was all those two needed to start ribbing each other.  The next five minutes were filled with Franki and Derek telling each other how much the other sucked at shooting.  The funny part is...neither one touched the bird.

The morning slowly crept by.  Eric took some shots, and so did I.  We just couldn't find any birds that wanted to run into our pellets.  The birds weren't lining up to get into our decoys, either.

Finally, at about 9:00, I connected with a mallard.  She worked her way into the decoys with a drake.  Derek and I were the only ones to take a shot.  Both of our first shots missed.  Eric was leaning back in his chair and Franki was in la-la land.  I took a second shot and down she came.  It was one of the longest (successful) shots that I have ever taken.  I would guess she was at about 50-60 yards when she was hit.  She dropped to the water and began to swim.  After she hit the water, Eric jumped to his feet.  As he was starting to move to his boat for the retrieve, the drake circled back around.  Eric worked him for another couple of turns then off he flew.  During that time, my hen swam farther away.  By the time Eric got the boat into the water, she was way out there.  As Eric paddled toward her, she kept swimming.  Eventually, Eric disappeared into the fog.  At that point, I was a little concerned that a barge might run him over.  After a few minutes of watching the fog bank, we heard a couple of muffled pops.  I knew that Eric had either found her or he had drifted down-river and took a couple of shots at the enormous raft of ducks we had been watching in the middle of the river.  He emerged from the fog and paddled back.  The mallard was recovered.  This would prove to be the last (and only) bird of the day. 

As we were picking up for the day, I noticed how bad of shape my mallard decoys are in.  Five have a big crack in the back which lets water in if the waves are too big.  A new problem was discovered today, however.  One of my mallard hens' beaks was hanging half off her face.  As I smiled to myself, I thought "That's probably why nothing decoyed today.  What bird would want to land next to a bird whose beak is hanging half off?"  But I knew better.  Still, it felt a little better to blame my equipment instead of the conditions.

A New Day In a New Spot (11/27/10 Duck Hunt)

This afternoon was spent in a spot that had never been in.  Eric picked up Riley and I to head over the river, into Finley.  This had been a productive spot for Eric on Thanksgiving day, yielding canvasbacks and redheads.  I was hoping to score a canvasback for myself.  That's a bird on my hit list.

We got to the waters edge about 12:30 and were tormented by the usual ducks flying all around us while we tried to set the decoys in place.  We ignored them as best we could while we finished our task at hand.  Again, right on cue, the birds left once we were set and ready to go.  Eric, Riley and I sat down and waited for something to pass within shooting range.  There was a slow, but fairly steady, waft of birds in the area, but still remained out of range.  At 2:30, first blood was drawn.  I managed to put a wigeon into the water while Eric went to his truck for his calls.  I snagged Eric's marsh rat boat and went out to retrieve the wounded bird.  After another shot, the duck quit swimming.  I grabbed it, threw it in the boat and paddled back to shore.  Riley met me at the parking spot and I hopped out, wigeon in hand.  However, the bird was still somewhat alive which cause Riley great concern.  She asked "Are you going to snap it's neck?"  After my response she smiled, covered her ears turned around.  After the deed was done she smirked at me, as only Riley can, and said "I don't like the sound that makes."  I have to agree with her on that, but it was necessary.

A little before 3:00, Riley went for a walk in the woods behind the blind.  Meanwhile, Eric and I worked a pair of wigeons into shooting range.  We fired and both fell into the water.  Eric's fell to the left and mine to the right.  As I followed mine to its final resting spot, I saw it splash down at Riley's feet as she came back from her walk.  She looked at me and asked "You want me to get that?"  I laughed to myself and said "Sure, if you want to."  So...she picked up the dead bird with two fingers, as if she was holding something gross and vile, and made her way back to the blind.  A few minutes later, Eric shot a bluebill that zipped from the left to right.

Soon after the bluebill was down, we shot a canvas back and a redhead, neither of which could be successfully retrieved.  Both were wounded and went down but eventually either swam to their safety or took flight.

For me, the next event was a stark reminder to stick with my own hunting practices; hunt until the very end.  The time was 4:07. The time to quit hunting was 4:10.  I unloaded my gun to start retrieving the decoys.  While my back was turned to the water, another pair of wigeons worked their way into the decoys.  I hurried to try and load my gun again.  It was useless.  Eric shot both ducks before I had the chance to chamber the one round I loaded.

What an end to the day.    

BRRRRRRRRRRRR!! (11/24/10 Duck Hunt)

Holy Cow!  It was cold this morning.  When we got to Burbank this morning, the temp., according to my truck's rear view mirror, was 2 degrees.  There was also a lot of snow on the ground.  That made for some slow walking down to the river.  Once we arrived, we found the water was extremely low.  Lower than I have ever seen it.  Even lower than last week.  We made our way out of the bay, hooked to the left and kept walking right past our "go to" spot.  The big difference between this morning's walk and most others was that we were walking on a solid sheet of ice this time.  We walked on that ice all the way to our hunting spot for today.  This was a new spot for me.  I'm not sure if Eric had been there before.  We finally arrived and after testing the water depth, we threw our decoys out, but not too far.  The river bed dropped off fairly quickly so we had to keep the decoys in close.  After setting the decoys Eric, Jose and I settled in for a little while.  Right on time, the usual suspects showed up a couple of minutes ahead of shooting hours.  The mallards hung around until just before shooting time and off they went.  There was a fog settling in and getting thicker by the minute.

About 7:00 or so, another pair of mallards dropped into check out our spread.  Eric put us on the board by taking the drake.  Put him down with one shot.  The hen flew in the opposite direction.  Just when I thought she was gone for good, she reappeared out of the fog a little to my right.  I raised my gun and shot.  She seemed to stop in mid flight.  As I shot again, I smiled as I heard Eric say behind me "Shoot her again."  She was hit but not dead.  I jumped out of the blind, with Jose right behind me, to get her.  She was still swimming in circles next to the ice.  I cautiously stepped to the edge of the ice, not really knowing how deep the water was under that outside edge.  My foot cracked through the ice and fell 3 inches, so I moved out and tried to snag the hen out of the water.  She sensed that I was close so she took off, swimming as fast as she could.  As I watched her, I knew that I would devastate the bird if I shot it from 15 feet away.  At the same time, I knew that if I waited much longer I wouldn't be able to wade far enough out to get her.  So I finished her off from 15 feet.  Let's just say that size 2 pellets shot through a Patternmaster choke from 15 feet away will leave a body with no head.  Not a pretty sight.  Anyway, I got my bird and Jose and I headed back to the blind.

As the morning rolled on and the fog began to lift, we noticed that there were other hunters to our left and to our right.  Most of the birds that we called at either didn't pay any attention to us or decoyed well for our new neighbors.

With the extreme cold air bearing down on us, it seemed like a half a day had gone by before Jose could get a bird close enough to get a shot off.  A single mallard zipped by overhead and Jose popped off a shot.  Unfortunately, it was a miss.  A little later, a bufflehead hen made her way into our decoys and Jose made short work of putting her to sleep.  We all scored a kill for the day.  As Jose made his way back from getting his bufflehead, another bird zipped into the decoys.  It was coming straight at us.  It juked to my right and I heard Eric say "Take that one," just as I was getting ready.  I had seen the bird come in but didn't want to raise my gun right away since Jose was still in the decoys.  Finally, I had a safe shot and took it.  The blue bill went down.  As I hopped out of the blind and tried to shed a layer of outwear, Jose and Eric waded out and got the bird for me.

We watched more birds pass overhead, paying no attention to our decoys.  The activity dropped to a nonexistent level and we decided it was time to leave.  Another excellent day in the duck blind with and old friend and a new one was complete.

The End Of a Marathon (11/21/10 Duck Hunt)

This was the third in a three day waterfowling marathon.  I don’t go three days in a row very often.  However, with the cold air bearing down in Canada, I don’t want to miss the opportunity to be out on the water when the ducks head south to avoid freezing temperatures.  I wasn’t feeling well (at all) this morning, so a lot of the details are even more hazy than normal.  I can only remember some of the highlights.

Eric and I arrived at the Burbank parking spot at about 4 this morning.  Our plan was to hunt the point and investigate some of the smaller lakes between the river and the railroad tracks on the way out.  The water level was low today, making the walk to the point much less grueling.  It was lower than I had ever seen it and Eric said it had been a long time since he had seen it that low.  When we arrived at the point, we set out the decoys and waited.  On cue, a pair of ducks dropped into the decoys about 10 or 15 minutes ahead of legal shooting time.  They were gone before it was legal to shoot.  Even when the time arrived, it was still darker than normal due to the overcast skies.  So, we waited some more.  Another pair ducks dropped into our decoys from out left.  With the dark sky, it was impossible to tell which was the drake and which was the hen.  We both passed on a shot and the ducks swam out to deeper water. 

Finally, enough light came for some positive identification.  We heard the familiar whistle of wings beating somewhere close overhead.  Then we saw him.  From our left, a pintail drake was cupped, committed and on his way down.  Eric whispered “Take this one.”  I stood, touched off the Benelli and he seemed to freeze midair.  He was hit, but not well.  Eric touched off a shot and the drake came down…slowly.  He needed a follow-up shot to finish him, so I entered the water and finished him off.  We were not going home skunked today.  As happens so many other times when hunting with Eric, we see each other’s success as something to celebrate.  Whenever someone takes a bird (or whatever we happen to be hunting), we are just happy to see someone achieving some measure success.  The hunts are not about who gets more birds, which is a good thing.  Eric is a much better waterfowler than I am.  If it were about who shot more birds, I would be going home mad most of the time.  It’s about the experience of being out there. 

More time passed and more birds were shot.  As I mentioned earlier, the details are hazed by my fever and stuffy head.  Another highlight of the hunt, though, came at about 10:30.  We had called at birds all morning with varying degrees of success.  This time, however, I was working the call and Eric was working the flapper.  A large group of ducks passed overhead.  I hit the call and Eric tugged the string.  Down came the birds.  They circled lower and lower.  They finally got close enough to identify, so Eric started in with his wigeon whistle.  I kept at it with the regular call, letting out some soft quacks and my attempt at some feeder chuckles.  The group finally worked into the decoys and was close enough for a shot.  I missed.  Probably shouldn’t be a shock that I missed, but I was left dumfounded. 

We finally finished the day with 8 ducks.  While I brought four (a gadwall drake and hen, mallard drake and pintail drake) home, I don’t think I can claim total victory on them all.  A couple of those ducks were a joint effort between Eric and I.  When it came time to leave, we decided to forego the pond exploration.  There were kids playing in the area and we didn’t want to be shooting when we couldn’t positively id their whereabouts.  So, we headed back to my truck and we were done…for today.

First Successful Goose Hunt (11/20/10 Goose Hunt)

Relatively speaking, it was a late start today.  It was planned that way, though.  Since geese don't fly as early as ducks, it was almost like sleeping in when I was told what time to meet Eric at his house.  I arrived at Eric's house at 4:45 this morning.  We were meeting Jake and some other friends of Eric's at the gas station.  We got out to the field about 5:30, but we were too late for the spot that had been picked out.  There was a group who arrived earlier than we did.  This was a huge group.  There had to be at least 10 shooters.  We set out the decoys and the layout blinds and waited.  As I laid and listened to the others calling to the geese, I watched the geese fly overhead.  What a sight!  Much like yesterday, the sight of so many birds in the air was awe inspiring.  However, these geese headed straight to the other guys' decoys initially.  This continued all morning.  Eric finally broke the ice by bringing down a honker passing overhead.  That was it until the other hunters picked up and left.  Then, after a bit of decoy rearrangement, it was game on.  The callers got the geese to work into the decoys and we starting getting some shots.  Devon sytarted us off with a fine shot on a goose, bringing it to the ground.  After a bit more waiting, more geese were worked into our decoys.  This volley, we all opened up.  The geese were not close...at all.  With the Patternmaster attached to the end of my Benelli, I managed to bring one down.  Several others fell at the same time, one of which I am fairly certain I brought down.  It was hard to effectively state which birds I shot since there were seven guns openeing up at once.  After running all over the pasture to collect up the dead birds and finishing the cripples, we laid back down in our blinds.  A little more time passed and we laid still again.  We all raised up and shot again.  Birds hit the deck, but I am sure I did not anything on that round.  After about another 1/2 hour or so, we decided to pick up and head out.  No other birds were in sight.  We packed out 15 geese total.

All in all, this was a good day.  However, I think my preference is in duck hunting.  Admitedly, I have done a lot more duck hunting than goose hunting so my perception of both may be a bit skewed.  I just didn't get as excited after bringing a goose down.  Don't get me wrong, it was still a blast (no pun intended).  Would I do it again?  Absolutely.  Guaranteed I will do it again next February in Missouri.  Snow goose hunting should be a lot of fun, for sure.

The Best Day of 2010...So Far (11/19/10 Duck Hunt)

What a day this turned out to be!  As usual, I woke up a little late.  That happens a lot when I hunt by myself.  The extra sleep just feels too good to pass up.  I decided to head to the good ole' spot in Burbank...again.  This time, however, I knew early on that things could work in my favor.  When I arrived at my usual parking spot, a truck parked at the exact same time as I had just down the road a bit.  I was fairly sure that he was going to try for the same area as I was, if not the same spot.  So, I hopped out of my truck as quickly as I could and I hurried to put my waders on and get my gear together.  As I was doing this, a train slowly rolled by, blocking my crossing to the trail leading to the river.  However, it was also blocking my new opponent's approach.  As I continued to ready myself for the race, the train slowed to a stop, but not before it was out of my way.  As I looked down the tracks a bit, I noticed that the train was blocking the other hunter's crossing.  Yes!  Score!  I had a massive head start on the other guy.  The duck gods were smiling on me today.  I knew it at that point.  I had no idea how right I was.

After getting set up, I heard a lot of commotion in the bay to my left.  I knew I was close to one of two things; either a duck calling contest or a lot of ducks in the bay.  I had not heard that much noise in that bay...ever.  As I sat waiting for 6:35 to arrive, I sat quietly and listened to the ducks, trying to mimic their sounds at times.  At 6:20, eleven ducks dropped into the decoys.  Couldn't shoot, though.  Too early, so I waited.  Those birds swam out.  At 6:35, a wigeon hen dropped in and I rolled her.  I was on the board.  After nearly three weeks of shooting and not bringing anything home, the streak was broken.  After the quick retrieve, I sat down and waited.  I would have honestly been perfectly content having only shot one.  My bad luck streak had been broken.  Well, the duck gods had other things in mind for this day.  Big flocks flew all around and some of the ducks worked the call and decoys fairly well.  I coaxed a mallard hen into committing and down she went.  Took two shots, but I got her nevertheless.  After that hen, I worked the call and flapper decoy as I had earlier.  From the behavior of the birds, I could tell they didn't like the spinner today.  I hurried to take it out of the water.  No sooner did I get back to my seat than a big fat greenhead came to say hello.  So I shot him.  I sat quietly for some time and just watched the birds flying.  I was happy to just sit and watch, as I haven't seen many flights like I had seen today.  They were constant and plentiful.  The cold air in Canada is definitely working in my favor.  I grew tired of just watching so I readied myself for some more action.  A group of three wigeon flew overhead.  I tooted my wigeon whistle and they came around.  They may have already been turning around, but hey, it almost felt like I played a part.  The three approached form the left.  I couldn't identify any drakes, so I took what I could get.  With three shots, two more wigeon hens were down.  One required a finishing shot before I could snag her.  After another little bit of sitting, I saw a duck coming in low and fast.  I watched it approach and it turned a bit to my left.  That sucker looked like he had a tuxedo on!  It looked to me like a bufflehead drake or a common goldeneye.  Either way, it was a bird that I wanted.  I stood...I shot... and I missed.  Needless to say, that duck got the hell out of there.  More birds came in and I emptied more shells but did not manage to kill anything.

Then it happened.  From the same area, a duck was coming in low and fast.  It looked like the same duck I shot at before.  This time I was not going to let him get away.  I let him keep coming straight in.  I didn't move a muscle.  He was coming straight at me.  Finally, he flared a little to my left and was about to touch down.  I took the shot.  I scored my first goldeneye drake.  What a sight.  The stark black and white of this bird was amazing, as was his bright yellow eyes.

I sat for another 45 minutes or so.  I was EXTREMELY content with the way today panned out.  When I was almost ready to pick up for the day, I decided to wait a little while longer.  I had six ducks, why not go for the full monty.  It didn't take long.  At exactly 9:30, three mallards swung by my decoys and landed about thirty yards beyond.  I gave a couple of soft quacks and whistles, and they came into the decoys on a string.  I waited until I was sure they were close enough, picked one out, stood up and made some noise, let it get airborne and pulled the trigger.  Feathers went everywhere and the duck went down.

I could not have asked for a much better or more satisfying day.  I took a lot of hens today, but it felt good to actually hit something.  It also felt good not to shoot sometimes and just watch the ducks.  Today just felt good.