Al Hansen
Well-known member
I wrote this about three or four years ago. It is getting to be that time of the year now where I start to think seriously about duck hunting.
Once arriving at my new location, which was about two miles from where I parked the truck, I quickly unloaded the four-wheeler and put everything into the sled that I use to transport my decoys in. I covered the four-wheeler with camo burlap and I was on my way, with Chili at my side.
The water was only about a foot deep in places and in others allot shallower. To me this made a perfect site for puddle ducks. Little did I know at the time that I was about to set up in “THE” spot that the ducks wanted to be at! As I wandered out into the marsh, stopping here and there to toss out decoys, my senses were soaking up everything in my surroundings. The distinctive smells of the marsh, the wave/current actions of the river not too far from me, the sounds of an owl just to the north of me along with the whistling wings of flying ducks overhead. This area was alive and well. As I looked to the east, I could see the faint light in the horizon and knew that I had just about 30 more minutes before I must be ready. With my headlamp blazing, I looked about me, and with everything seemingly in place and a contented subtle smile on my face, I waded to the blind.
(Chili is a duck hunter's wildest dream come true. Thank goodness she came by it naturally.)
I can’t begin to tell you how much I appreciate sipping on a hot cup of coffee in the blind just prior to the opener. This is the time when ducks really start to fly and there is a lot of activity. I was enjoying watching Chili as she lifted her head to follow a small flock of mallards that were flying south just above the Rio Grande. I found out a long time ago, that by watching my dog, I sure had a better sense of where the ducks were. Her eyes are a heck of a lot better than mine. I checked my watch and decided it was time to put my coffee cup down and get serious about duck hunting.
First thing in that morning was a gorgeous pair of mallards. They saw the decoys and without hesitation, came flying in, wings cupped and feet outstretched in front of them. I put the bead on the drake and he crumpled when my Benelli broke the silence. Chili dashed out and was back with that beautiful greenhead. She placed it in my hand and quickly took the stance at her post, looking for more ducks. As I sat there admiring my greenhead, four more mallards came busting in, looking like they were all ready to start filling up on smart weed seeds. As they began to hover over the decoys, I pulled the trigger on the lead drake and he fell, along with the hen right behind him. I love being able to shoot Scotch doubles but much prefer taking two drakes out instead of one of them being a hen. Once again Chili was out in an instant retrieving the first duck. As I sat there, she went back out for the second duck and quickly I had three mallards already in the bag. What was so amazing to this point in time, was the fact that only ten minutes had elapsed.
( I can hardly wait for duck season to open. By the way, this pond is no longer there. In two years it was choked out by cattails and the ducks quit using this area.)
Once again, I found myself gazing at my three ducks when a small flock of widgeons came zooming in, not from the south, but from the north and they totally had me off guard. I picked up my call and tried to coax them back but to no avail. Oh, well, that is all part of duck hunting. Over the years, I have found quite a few good excuses to help console myself for some of the mistakes that I will pull----some being real dandies!
As I sat there waiting for some more ducks, in came at least ten to twelve woodies. They were right on the deck and made a huge circle out in front of me, which was to the west. When they came back, it was right at me and I pulled on the first one and down it came. Unfortunately, it was a hen. I must admit that after carefully examining this bird, it is extremely beautiful for a hen. Those bright yellow eye ceres are enough to make it a true gem.
(I hunted 83 days and never got skunked. That is the first and last time that has ever happened to me)
I had promised Bev that I wouldn’t stay too long, so I had decided to pack up by 8:00AM. At around 7:45 I heard the distinctive sound of the drake mallard. As I looked to the south of me, I could already see him approaching. I gave a soft lonesome hen call, let my call dangle around my neck, and picked up my shotgun. Chili was on this bird the whole time. I get a kick out of her because when she sees a duck or flock of ducks, her head is locked into place, however her tail starts twitching, very slowly and methodically. The greenhead kept up his calling right up until the time I pulled the trigger. Chili made quick work of the retrieve and I found myself with four mallards and a wood duck. It was time to go home.
(This was the prettiest duck I shot that year. I "should" have had this Mexican/mallard hybrid mounted.)
What a great area that I just happened to have found. Places like this, especially on public land, are hard to come by and I did realize how fortunate I was. How was it possible that this would end up being the best season I have ever had in my lifetime of duck hunting?
Al
Once arriving at my new location, which was about two miles from where I parked the truck, I quickly unloaded the four-wheeler and put everything into the sled that I use to transport my decoys in. I covered the four-wheeler with camo burlap and I was on my way, with Chili at my side.
The water was only about a foot deep in places and in others allot shallower. To me this made a perfect site for puddle ducks. Little did I know at the time that I was about to set up in “THE” spot that the ducks wanted to be at! As I wandered out into the marsh, stopping here and there to toss out decoys, my senses were soaking up everything in my surroundings. The distinctive smells of the marsh, the wave/current actions of the river not too far from me, the sounds of an owl just to the north of me along with the whistling wings of flying ducks overhead. This area was alive and well. As I looked to the east, I could see the faint light in the horizon and knew that I had just about 30 more minutes before I must be ready. With my headlamp blazing, I looked about me, and with everything seemingly in place and a contented subtle smile on my face, I waded to the blind.
(Chili is a duck hunter's wildest dream come true. Thank goodness she came by it naturally.)
I can’t begin to tell you how much I appreciate sipping on a hot cup of coffee in the blind just prior to the opener. This is the time when ducks really start to fly and there is a lot of activity. I was enjoying watching Chili as she lifted her head to follow a small flock of mallards that were flying south just above the Rio Grande. I found out a long time ago, that by watching my dog, I sure had a better sense of where the ducks were. Her eyes are a heck of a lot better than mine. I checked my watch and decided it was time to put my coffee cup down and get serious about duck hunting.
First thing in that morning was a gorgeous pair of mallards. They saw the decoys and without hesitation, came flying in, wings cupped and feet outstretched in front of them. I put the bead on the drake and he crumpled when my Benelli broke the silence. Chili dashed out and was back with that beautiful greenhead. She placed it in my hand and quickly took the stance at her post, looking for more ducks. As I sat there admiring my greenhead, four more mallards came busting in, looking like they were all ready to start filling up on smart weed seeds. As they began to hover over the decoys, I pulled the trigger on the lead drake and he fell, along with the hen right behind him. I love being able to shoot Scotch doubles but much prefer taking two drakes out instead of one of them being a hen. Once again Chili was out in an instant retrieving the first duck. As I sat there, she went back out for the second duck and quickly I had three mallards already in the bag. What was so amazing to this point in time, was the fact that only ten minutes had elapsed.
( I can hardly wait for duck season to open. By the way, this pond is no longer there. In two years it was choked out by cattails and the ducks quit using this area.)
Once again, I found myself gazing at my three ducks when a small flock of widgeons came zooming in, not from the south, but from the north and they totally had me off guard. I picked up my call and tried to coax them back but to no avail. Oh, well, that is all part of duck hunting. Over the years, I have found quite a few good excuses to help console myself for some of the mistakes that I will pull----some being real dandies!
As I sat there waiting for some more ducks, in came at least ten to twelve woodies. They were right on the deck and made a huge circle out in front of me, which was to the west. When they came back, it was right at me and I pulled on the first one and down it came. Unfortunately, it was a hen. I must admit that after carefully examining this bird, it is extremely beautiful for a hen. Those bright yellow eye ceres are enough to make it a true gem.
(I hunted 83 days and never got skunked. That is the first and last time that has ever happened to me)
I had promised Bev that I wouldn’t stay too long, so I had decided to pack up by 8:00AM. At around 7:45 I heard the distinctive sound of the drake mallard. As I looked to the south of me, I could already see him approaching. I gave a soft lonesome hen call, let my call dangle around my neck, and picked up my shotgun. Chili was on this bird the whole time. I get a kick out of her because when she sees a duck or flock of ducks, her head is locked into place, however her tail starts twitching, very slowly and methodically. The greenhead kept up his calling right up until the time I pulled the trigger. Chili made quick work of the retrieve and I found myself with four mallards and a wood duck. It was time to go home.
(This was the prettiest duck I shot that year. I "should" have had this Mexican/mallard hybrid mounted.)
What a great area that I just happened to have found. Places like this, especially on public land, are hard to come by and I did realize how fortunate I was. How was it possible that this would end up being the best season I have ever had in my lifetime of duck hunting?
Al