Yesterday I took the day off to give Michelle and hand and go hunting in the afternoon. I had a small window of opportunity at work while waiting for inputs from others so I jumped at ability to take a day. Besides, I'm in a use or lose situation. Actually scouting was more the plan than hunting. The far reaches of one of our WMAs has always been on my list of places to explore but I just never seem to make it up there, that is until yesterday. The water is very low right now and I could easily walk across the creek in most places so it took a while to idle up there. While taking a bend in the river I saw tell-tale signs of marsh, that being dead trees tops in the distance and water rings on nearby trees. I pulled over and climbed the bank to see a large field knee deep in water. Looked good. A little ways back up the creek I passed a feeder creek so I went back steered the broadbill up the 8' wide offshoot. Wasnt' long until came upon a beaverdam. I got out of the boat and started walking, kicking up several flocks of woodies. I looked at my watch and marked the time. As I walked the creek it became obvious it was man-made. Dirt piles high on both sides. Probably some Conservation Corp project from the 30s. On both sides water was standing. I counted 6 beaver dams on the creek with each raising the water a foot or so. Fifteen minutes later I reached the end which opened into a several acre sized pond that spilled into the surrounding fields thanks to the beavers. I wonder, can I get my Broadbill back here with all my stuff. Gonna be tough.
I walked back and sized up the first dam. Now my Broadbill was built with durability in mind, not light weight. I figure with the motor, gas, battery and gear I was tugging 400 pounds. The first dam took some effort but I finally managed it. The second dam was a little smaller but I was beginning to tire. By this time a full sweat is going on. As I reached the third dam my technique was much improved but I was running out of UUUMMMPPPHHHH. Finally it was over. The fourth dam was by far the largest. Now spent I realized the insanity of it all. The boat, super mag Tschabold decoys and everthing else was going to have to stay behind. With nothing but a gun, a few shells, and Cassie I returned, sweat soaked, to the pond.
For the next two hours I sat chilling on a beaver hut hoping ducks would come in early to roost. They didn't. But they will because the area has a lot to offer and I hope to be there when they do. Every season at some point I find myself expending some absurd amount of energy to do something that could be done far easier. I act on how I want to hunt rather than how I should hunt. Call it stubborness but the soreness I feel today tells me I worked for something and that's always a good thing. Next time I'll just get a little help.
I walked back and sized up the first dam. Now my Broadbill was built with durability in mind, not light weight. I figure with the motor, gas, battery and gear I was tugging 400 pounds. The first dam took some effort but I finally managed it. The second dam was a little smaller but I was beginning to tire. By this time a full sweat is going on. As I reached the third dam my technique was much improved but I was running out of UUUMMMPPPHHHH. Finally it was over. The fourth dam was by far the largest. Now spent I realized the insanity of it all. The boat, super mag Tschabold decoys and everthing else was going to have to stay behind. With nothing but a gun, a few shells, and Cassie I returned, sweat soaked, to the pond.
For the next two hours I sat chilling on a beaver hut hoping ducks would come in early to roost. They didn't. But they will because the area has a lot to offer and I hope to be there when they do. Every season at some point I find myself expending some absurd amount of energy to do something that could be done far easier. I act on how I want to hunt rather than how I should hunt. Call it stubborness but the soreness I feel today tells me I worked for something and that's always a good thing. Next time I'll just get a little help.