Larry Eckart
Well-known member
Two Victories on Opening Day
This was my first year celebrating Opening Day in North Carolina. I was here last year, but as a new resident had not yet solved the "where" of hunting. I was excited about this season as I purchased this summer a 23-year-old 16' Lund Laker to facilitate my sport.
Opening Day was on Wednesday. On Monday I ferried my Old Town 119 in the Lund to a marsh that held potential.
View attachment 8E4A16D1-B751-4E2C-9197-816C0ACA5C90.jpeg
With the canoe I paddled for an hour in search of The Spot, testing mud (too deep!), finally finding the place I would set up.
I am 66 years old. I have been hunting ducks on and off since I was 15. As a pastor in Michigan and South Carolina, I did not hunt most opening mornings, which inevitably took place on Saturday. Most of the time I had work to do or final preparations to make for Sunday. So it was a treat now in retirement, to get ready for Opening Day. I was awake two hours before the alarm went off. How lovely to still be a kid about some things!
I can't remember the last time I drove a boat through dark-dark. My Garmin Striker Plus tracking feature provided a safe passage around stump fields and islands. Cool to see where you can't. I got "there" 90 minutes before shooting time.
Quiet. Still. Stars. No one else. Just you. The shadow of trees. For some reason even the mosquitoes left me alone.
Shooting time. Quiet still. Except for shooting all around me. Then They came. Periodically for the next two hours, singles or small groups of woodies came into ?my? pothole. I missed some, but ended with three lovely drakes. Oh, what a morning!
Victory #1.
A pic of the first two birds:
View attachment 1F9BCF8D-4596-49EE-9FF7-23D117A096C9.jpeg
But that wasn't the only victory or the full story of the morning. About 30 minutes prior to shooting time there was a light in the darkness coming my way. Crap! Where did they come from? I heard no boat! But here they are. Two guys walking in on my spot.
I yelled and shined my light. I heard a shocked exclamation. I could tell they were talking to each other.
"We'll set up down here," they said to me.
"There's not enough room in this hole for more than one gun," I responded. They stood there for a moment and then began to walk away admitting by their action that I was right and was also there first.
As they walked away, I thought about the situation. These guys did not fight my point that the hole was not large enough for both parties. Some guys would have stood their ground and challenged me with typical opening day behavior. I decided to gamble that they were decent guys and not idiots masquerading as duck hunters.
"Hey!" I yelled. "How about we hunt together so no one loses?"
Immediate response: "That would be great!" So I met Max and Scott and their Lab Josey. Seniors like me, one of them lived nearby, thus explaining the arrival without a boat. Their company was pleasant and their appreciation for inviting them to hunt with me, obvious. Regular guys both of them, one with extensive hunting experience, the other not so much. "I"m happy to be out here enjoying a pretty spot and a beautiful morning," Max said later.
When the birds stopped flying we agreed together to pick up. They had missed their opportunities but showed no regrets. We talked about hunting and the intense pressure on available spots in the Piedmont of North Carolina. We spoke of the rancor in our country and how few people listen to each other or work together for the common good, putting aside their own interests.
My new "friends" could have become belligerent and stayed, crowding the spot. I could have insisted that they leave. Instead, we worked it out together. We agreed the day had been a kind of victory for us all.
Victory #2!
We did the "covid hand shake" and walked away, satisfied men all three.[font=Calibri, sans-serif][/font]
This was my first year celebrating Opening Day in North Carolina. I was here last year, but as a new resident had not yet solved the "where" of hunting. I was excited about this season as I purchased this summer a 23-year-old 16' Lund Laker to facilitate my sport.
Opening Day was on Wednesday. On Monday I ferried my Old Town 119 in the Lund to a marsh that held potential.
View attachment 8E4A16D1-B751-4E2C-9197-816C0ACA5C90.jpeg
With the canoe I paddled for an hour in search of The Spot, testing mud (too deep!), finally finding the place I would set up.
I am 66 years old. I have been hunting ducks on and off since I was 15. As a pastor in Michigan and South Carolina, I did not hunt most opening mornings, which inevitably took place on Saturday. Most of the time I had work to do or final preparations to make for Sunday. So it was a treat now in retirement, to get ready for Opening Day. I was awake two hours before the alarm went off. How lovely to still be a kid about some things!
I can't remember the last time I drove a boat through dark-dark. My Garmin Striker Plus tracking feature provided a safe passage around stump fields and islands. Cool to see where you can't. I got "there" 90 minutes before shooting time.
Quiet. Still. Stars. No one else. Just you. The shadow of trees. For some reason even the mosquitoes left me alone.
Shooting time. Quiet still. Except for shooting all around me. Then They came. Periodically for the next two hours, singles or small groups of woodies came into ?my? pothole. I missed some, but ended with three lovely drakes. Oh, what a morning!
Victory #1.
A pic of the first two birds:
View attachment 1F9BCF8D-4596-49EE-9FF7-23D117A096C9.jpeg
But that wasn't the only victory or the full story of the morning. About 30 minutes prior to shooting time there was a light in the darkness coming my way. Crap! Where did they come from? I heard no boat! But here they are. Two guys walking in on my spot.
I yelled and shined my light. I heard a shocked exclamation. I could tell they were talking to each other.
"We'll set up down here," they said to me.
"There's not enough room in this hole for more than one gun," I responded. They stood there for a moment and then began to walk away admitting by their action that I was right and was also there first.
As they walked away, I thought about the situation. These guys did not fight my point that the hole was not large enough for both parties. Some guys would have stood their ground and challenged me with typical opening day behavior. I decided to gamble that they were decent guys and not idiots masquerading as duck hunters.
"Hey!" I yelled. "How about we hunt together so no one loses?"
Immediate response: "That would be great!" So I met Max and Scott and their Lab Josey. Seniors like me, one of them lived nearby, thus explaining the arrival without a boat. Their company was pleasant and their appreciation for inviting them to hunt with me, obvious. Regular guys both of them, one with extensive hunting experience, the other not so much. "I"m happy to be out here enjoying a pretty spot and a beautiful morning," Max said later.
When the birds stopped flying we agreed together to pick up. They had missed their opportunities but showed no regrets. We talked about hunting and the intense pressure on available spots in the Piedmont of North Carolina. We spoke of the rancor in our country and how few people listen to each other or work together for the common good, putting aside their own interests.
My new "friends" could have become belligerent and stayed, crowding the spot. I could have insisted that they leave. Instead, we worked it out together. We agreed the day had been a kind of victory for us all.
Victory #2!
We did the "covid hand shake" and walked away, satisfied men all three.[font=Calibri, sans-serif][/font]
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