"A hunt based only on the trophies taken falls short on what the ultimate goals should be."
These words were spoken by a legend in the outdoor world, Fred Bear.
I love being able to mix up my hunting opportunities here in South Dakota, but I appreciate these hunts more when I get to share them with others. Even more so, I live for duck hunts with my Dad. We have shared a few fantastic hunts already this season and I have learned more in two hunts than I ever could have in an entire fall by myself. Dad and I are cut from the same stock, and each hunt out seems better than the last.
After my 'Day on the Prairie', Dad and I planned ahead for a Veteran's Day duck hunt. I was able to get permission for the same duck slough so we could get another crack at some divers. By shear luck I got Dad on pintail earlier in the season, and Dad told me it had been years since he had seen a canvasback. This was the slough to see some cool stuff, including a possible can.
Dad drove up early Wednesday morning, but we didn't get to the slough until a little after 8am.
When we got to the field approach at the top of the hill we were met but a couple thousand waterfowl. There were about 200+ swans, and more ducks and geese than we could count. The slough was covered. I stopped at the top of the hill and asked Dad what we do now.
Speechless.
He eventually just said "I have no idea".
He took a short video as they all got up from the water:
It was an unreal sight indeed.
When we got down to the water's edge there was still a small flock of specklebellies still in the nearest cove. I figured we could get out slow and make a sneak on them. We got almost close enough before they broke, and I was borderline panicky at this point. When we rounded the bend and got out there were still 30 or so swans and seemingly endless ducks still swirling around. I worked as fast as I could to get decoys out, and to make sure the spread was perfect. I was halfway through when birds started trying to filter their way back in. Every time I looked over at Dad, he had a grin on his face.
It took only fifteen minutes before we had big ducks in our spread. A small flock were feet down and swinging left. Dad called the shot and we pulled down a giant bull canvasback. I was astonished to say the least, and Dad's grin was permanently frozen into position. In less than 5 minutes there was another flock working in and again, cans. Dad let me take the shot and I dropped the drake from the pair.
This was unbelievable.
Another small flock worked our decoy set, and again Dad and I pulled out another drake. The ducks were working like magic this morning and I was amazing at our unreal success. The next flock of course were cans. Dad let me have a crack and these, and again, I dropped another drake.
In less than 20 minutes we had our limit of canvasbacks, and all drakes. Quite frankly, it didn't matter if we shot any at all as we were both stoked to be hunting together. I however, believe my success is directly related to how much I want to shoot something. My greatest success is when I am in the moment, enjoying the outdoors.
It was amazing to watch the birds as they darted in and out of the coves, and swing around to give our set another look. A flock of 15 or so teal came screaming into our set and were in our face before we knew it. Dad was out for big ducks but I have an itchy finger. I doubled on the flock, and Mocha was able to get both birds for me.
We stood in the midst of the cattails and marveled at the ducks that worked around. We could have shot a dozen or more canvasbacks all morning; they just didn't want to be anywhere else. I videoed a pair that we could have shot multiple times over the course of 10 minutes. As I pan left when they are coming in, I see a mallard feet down in our pocket:
The duck thing has been nuts, but what amazed me the most were the swans. They are a lot bigger than I even thought, and seeing them decoy is like decoying Canadian bush planes. Flock after flock tried working their way back into this slough, but they are wary critters. Dad suggested we pull the mojo decoy and see if that will improve our heavy pressured birds. Not only did it help with the swans but it helped with the ducks.
I never knew they were there until Dad called the shot, but we had two drake mallards sneak in over the top of us and drop right into our pocket. We did some magnificent missing but we pulled one of the drakes down. Again, Mocha retrieved our bird for us, but she was slowing down.
Another flock of bigger ducks looped around us before we figured out they were wigeons. We called the shot late but pulled out one of them. It was a far retrieve and Mocha panicked. We ended up watching the duck as it floating feet up across the slough. We counted it to our limit and would grab it on our way out. It seemed like minutes, but it was another hour or so before, another flock came in and Dad pulled down another drake wigeon. This time, Mocha was able to bring it back to us after a break in the action. We were two birds away from a limit, and we discussed whether or not that mattered. The consensus was that it was the day of all days to be on the marsh, so we might as well enjoy it as long as possible.
As often happens while fishing, that "one more fish" scenario was playing out here. Dad would go back to his pack and get a sandwich and some coffee, and we would watch as hundreds of snow geese would fly 150 yards above us. It took a couple of hours before our last two birds came in. Most of the birds came in on our left this morning, but a pair of giant mallards lit to our right. I told Dad to shoot, but he wanted the pair. So we jumped them, and dropped them with two perfect shots. Mocha grabbed Dad's first, then came back out for mine, and that finalized an unimaginable day on the duck marsh.
After collecting the magic decoys, took some necessary photos of our hunt.
As we crested the hill at came to the stop sign I looked at Dad and said,
"Smells like mud and gun-powder"
There was Dad's grin again.
Stay Tuned
No comments:
Post a Comment