A Lesson in Ducks, and Memories Made

The greatest part about the slough we were hunting this morning was it's proximity to our apartment. It was a little over 2 miles from my front door, which meant we didn't have to get up at an unholy hour. I was able to pull the car right next to our spot, drop off all of our gear, and double back to park the car by the field approach. It really wasn't that far of a walk and we were slogging our way to our spot in no time. The lack of pre-scouting was now biting us. We were too far on the end of this small slough, and the water was well before the edge of the cattails. We ended up setting on an old muskrat hut, and I set out the birds while Dad collected the rest of our gear. We were getting buzzed by ducks the entire time. As usual, legal light came and went without any shots from us. There were a few shots in the distance that were at least 15 minutes before legal light. We couldn't even believe they could see to shoot...
At any rate, we waited for whatever large duck, would make its way into our spread within the sporadic grass. The first one to show dropped right on the outskirts of our spread was a wonderful full plummed drake mallard. I was in complete panic mode but Dad waited for me to jump and shoot. I pulled myself from the knee deep mud, and positioned for the shot. When he jumped I popped him with a well placed shot! After a team effort retrieve with Mocha we got our bird.

If you can't tell by my face, there were birds everywhere!
About 200 or so jumped off the far side of the slough after my shot and it was a swirl of whistling wings. We sat tight as we watched most of these birds work back into that pocket in pairs and small groups, and even a few large groups. They didn't even hesitate. We were going to sit tight for awhile anyway and see what happened.
Shortly after my mallard came in, a large beautiful drake pintail locked wings and dropped feet just on the outside of our spread. I didn't even pull my gun. Dad smoked him in another well placed shot!

After only another half hour or so, we made the decision to move. The birds continued to funnel into that same corner, and we needed to make an adjustment. The mud was not exactly conducive to reducing a minor heart attack, but we took our time and did it together. After collecting our things we made our way to the near side of the slough. We ended up less than 50 yards from the road but with the tall cattails, we could only see the passing combines behind us.
As we made our slow trudge to the waters edge, a errant flock of geese came out of nowhere and I was inundated with gear; it was all up to Dad.
One shot broke a wing, and the other finished him off. And then we heard the thump. The bird bounced right on the gravel road behind us. As I set out or decoy spread, Dad went and retrieved the goose. When he returned he was laughing as the landowner was 'rubber necking' as he drove by in the combine as he knew that dead goose wasn't there when he came through earlier that morning (around noon the landowner called me to ask me about that goose).
We waited what seemed like mere seconds before we had a pair of pintail come in. They were a little far out but we managed to scrap one down. It was a long retrieve that required me to assist the dog on the other side of the slough but we got it nevertheless. Again, not shortly after I got set back into my spot in the weeds, another big drake mallard came right into our spread.

We played this game for the remainder of the morning. Pairs and singles, one teal I just couldn't help myself with, and some great shooting, and some consistent retrieving I might add. We manged to fill a two man limit of pintail, two drake mallards, a spectacular pair of gadwalls, and three total teal. Again with the bonus teal, we were still short three ducks to our allowable limit. We decided on calling it at 11am so we could make it back for breakfast with the Mrs. I packed up decoys while Dad retrieved our vehicle.

We were beat, hungry, and on cloud nine. We got home and took one last pic with our birds in the boat.

We went to The Corner Diner here in town, but we were late enough that they were no longer serving breakfast, but a nice big cheeseburger hit the spot in the biggest way.
After a great meal, we went home and cleaned up our birds, and prepared ourselves for a wonderful afternoon nap; or so I thought. Dad was loading goose decoys into the duck-mobile, and was preparing for an afternoon hunt on the same field and slough we were pass shooting off of the night before.
Again, the access was too good to be true, and I was able pull right up to the water's edge and set out what decoys we wanted before I drove the car back to the road. We of course jumped a big flock of mallards off of the corner when we got there. Oh darn.
Now the actual napping commenced. Dad of course, took the first shift of napping. It didn't take long and I had ducks over me while the old man was out cold. I didn't dare shoot anything but a fat mallard so I held off. When he finally came to from his nap I just told him to stand slowly and jump one of the mallards out in front of us. It was some spectacular biffage. Not a feather was ruffled.
Dad gave me a sheepish look and waited for an opportunity for redemption. It took 10 minutes before another mallard dropped in and Dad made short work this time on a big fat mallard hen.

 Dad kept saying it was now my turn and he would only have it for me to shoot a big fat drake mallard. We waited for awhile and we had lots of birds around us but nothing was committing. Dad stood up and said, "well I have to pee so that will definitely bring the birds in." He no more than got his wader pulled down and I told him to get down. A large flock of mallards can in on a string. I waiting until the last second before the largest drake pegged me and the flock flared. He returned the favor and dropped him into the water with a perfect shot. 

We were enjoying ourselves so much that we just sat there and soaked it in. We planned for geese, and ended up filling the rest of our daily limit with two fat mallards. The geese never came in but there were flocks all around us. We could have killed another limit of mallards easily sitting there for another hour or so.
We called it a day and got some final pics.

When we got back to the apartment I put it upon myself to pluck these ducks. This was an undertaking that as usual, I had to discover myself even with Dad's advice to wait a few weeks. There are these small feathers on ducks called pin feathers, and they do not develop until mid November. Being early October, these ended in a few hours with tweezers and the sink.

The icing on the cake for our day, was walking in the door from a windy cool October day, to Rachel's magnificent chicken noodle soup brewing on the stove. We couldn't have picked a better day if we tried.

We had become consumed by the deer madness back in Iowa, and moving to South Dakota, I wanted a change-up to my outdoor en devours. When I discovered the amount and quality of waterfowl around here, I had flashbacks of hunting ducks and geese back when we were just kids. I remembered Dad's passion for it and I wanted more than anything to share this with him. I could not have planned it better myself if I tried again. I was able to learn a ton from a man that had seen many 'a marsh in his day, and I soaked up every second.

This will remain one of my more cherished adventures.



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