Modern Wild Man ~The Duck Addiction~

Modern Wild Man

I have come to terms with my addiction.  I admit it, there is no other explanation.  I find myself waking up in the early dark hours of the morning thinking of only one thing.  I cherish enduring cold, wet, mud and ice for a single chance of an encounter.  It's easy for an outsider looking in to tell that I'm addicted to duck hunting.

Let's be honest, it takes a certain kind of addiction or crazy to want to crawl out of a warm bed at three o'clock in the morning to put on cold waders destined to leak.  Then wade out into muddy black water to set out plastic decoys that are in an inevitable tangled mess.  Your fingers get cold, and the end of your nose gets numb.  At some point you, or a hunting partner may even have to make a trek in waders to the boat, to move the truck, or pack in decoys, a trek that gets you all sweaty just to make sure you are miserably cold later.

All the decoys are out, your shotgun, shells and calls are in order, and then it happens.  A flight of fast moving mallards cruises over in the dawn darkness.  You hear the whistle of their wings cutting the air.  Your eyes snap to the skyline, and you can't help but smile.  You see, duck hunting is a sort of gateway to so much more.  Duck hunting isn't so much about hunting ducks as much as it is about being on the water and in the wild.  As the sun peeks over the eastern horizon, a muskrat swims across the marsh.  Quail begin to whistle their song across the pond from you, and you may even hear a flock of ghost like turkeys fly off their roost.The wild space around the water is unique.  So much life revolves around the water.  The magic moments of sunup and sundown on the water in wild places is its own kind of magic.

The first rays of the morning sun stretch across the top of the water from the east and dances between your decoys.  A group of dabbling ducks makes a pass.  Quickly you hold a call to your lips and push air through a tube and reed in hopes to get the attention of a bird flying forty miles per hour, and it works!  The birds cornerback and make another pass.  Your eyes, are locked on the birds as you reach for your shotgun, careful to remain concealed.  One more time they swing out wide, moving into the wind, and cup their wings.  Using the wind in their face as a brake, their feet come down and they seem to drop out of the sky ready to land in your decoy spread.  With wings opened up, and their flight slowed down a hunter must carefully pick out one bird, shoulder, shoot and follow through.  You've only got three shots at a time, so make it count.  The action is quick, if you're lucky you drop a bird or two, and if you're even luckier you've got a good dog to retrieve them for you from the water. A day spent in a duck blind, a duck boat, or a ground blind with friends or family is a great day.  Mix in some birds, a little shooting, and a good dog or two and you have the makings for lasting friendships, memories and stories for years to come.

The winter duck migration is an amazing event.  Birds weighing no more than 3 or 4 pounds battle their way through snow, ice, and wind on their way south.  Along with the birds comes hunters, fathers and sons, endless thermoses of coffee, and labradors with their eyes locked to the skyline.  The ducks bring a whole scale of economy with them.  Hunters buy licenses and stamps, both state and federal.  Decoys, camouflage, steel shotshells, new shotguns, waders, hotel rooms, breakfasts and lunches, and on and on, the ducks bring with them much more that duck hunting.  Duck hunting is a culture, a lifestyle, and a lot of fun.

We don't have much season left this year.  In some parts of the county it's already over.  But for now, I think I will stay up late fixing decoys and waders so I can get up early to go duck hunting!

See Ya Out There!