Andrew Menz
Active member
As my hands gathered the decoys, gun, and other essentials the night before, my mind ran through what might take place the next morning: colorful drake Wood Ducks lighting in the decoys at daybreak, the small thunder of my newly acquired double gun echoing twice over in the partially flooded timber, the satisfying splash of ducks hitting the water and the smell of gunpowder spiraling up from the base of the barrels. Finally, my young Chessie delivering these jewels of the marsh to hand, far from her first retrieves of the year but the first in our home country and state.
It could be that perfect, I thought, you heard them in there during yesterday's lunch hour scout. Oh, how I love everything involved with waterfowling: the history, the wing shooting, and the dog work. When it all comes together it's a thing of beauty and I had a beautiful storyline in mind as I set the timer on the coffee maker and turned in for the night.
As legal shooting light turned to full daylight the storyline was different. I heard the calls of Wood Ducks but not the report of my double gun nor the splash of those ducks. In fact, I hadn't even seen them. Instead, I saw Whitetail Deer. Two does and a fawn stomped and snorted as they tried to figure out who the smelly characters were sitting on the edge of their watering hole. Once they finally decided it wasn't safe to continue, they waved their namesakes in retreat and I decided to retreat from the original storyline.
I stood up and told Nora to heel. We then made our way quietly from the back flow to the river proper. Once there, I could see several ducks about seventy five yards up stream. They were tucked in tight against the fairly high bank and I thought I might have another storyline going. I bet we can get within range of those before they know we're there, I thought.
So off we went, checking a few other wet spots along the way. I approached the bank about where I thought they were and suddenly saw a hen Wood Duck swimming nervously from the shore. She quickly erupted into the air bringing a drake with her. Unfortunately there was too much cover between us and I didn't even bother shouldering the gun. Instead, I quickly made my way closer to the water's edge, knowing more would take flight at any moment. Sure enough a drake flew out and upstream to my right. The little 20 thundered and he splashed. Then, out came another. This one a drake as well but a little further out by the time my barrels moved in front of him. The second one, choked modified, fired and just like that we had two drakes in the fast moving current.
With a little encouragement to get over the brush at the base of the bank, out went Nora intent on the farthest bird. I started walking downstream parallel to the the second one, a little concerned with how fast it was headed downstream. As the pup approached me on the retrieve she saw it and pushed it with the other duck until it lodged in some brush. Abandoning it there she brought me the one in her jaws and I sent her back into the current. After initially slipping downstream, she swam back against the current and strained to get the bird from the brush. She was successful. We were successful. It wasn't the story I had in mind the night before but it was a still a good story. While ducks over decoys are preferred, I still love a good sneak.
It could be that perfect, I thought, you heard them in there during yesterday's lunch hour scout. Oh, how I love everything involved with waterfowling: the history, the wing shooting, and the dog work. When it all comes together it's a thing of beauty and I had a beautiful storyline in mind as I set the timer on the coffee maker and turned in for the night.
As legal shooting light turned to full daylight the storyline was different. I heard the calls of Wood Ducks but not the report of my double gun nor the splash of those ducks. In fact, I hadn't even seen them. Instead, I saw Whitetail Deer. Two does and a fawn stomped and snorted as they tried to figure out who the smelly characters were sitting on the edge of their watering hole. Once they finally decided it wasn't safe to continue, they waved their namesakes in retreat and I decided to retreat from the original storyline.
I stood up and told Nora to heel. We then made our way quietly from the back flow to the river proper. Once there, I could see several ducks about seventy five yards up stream. They were tucked in tight against the fairly high bank and I thought I might have another storyline going. I bet we can get within range of those before they know we're there, I thought.
So off we went, checking a few other wet spots along the way. I approached the bank about where I thought they were and suddenly saw a hen Wood Duck swimming nervously from the shore. She quickly erupted into the air bringing a drake with her. Unfortunately there was too much cover between us and I didn't even bother shouldering the gun. Instead, I quickly made my way closer to the water's edge, knowing more would take flight at any moment. Sure enough a drake flew out and upstream to my right. The little 20 thundered and he splashed. Then, out came another. This one a drake as well but a little further out by the time my barrels moved in front of him. The second one, choked modified, fired and just like that we had two drakes in the fast moving current.
With a little encouragement to get over the brush at the base of the bank, out went Nora intent on the farthest bird. I started walking downstream parallel to the the second one, a little concerned with how fast it was headed downstream. As the pup approached me on the retrieve she saw it and pushed it with the other duck until it lodged in some brush. Abandoning it there she brought me the one in her jaws and I sent her back into the current. After initially slipping downstream, she swam back against the current and strained to get the bird from the brush. She was successful. We were successful. It wasn't the story I had in mind the night before but it was a still a good story. While ducks over decoys are preferred, I still love a good sneak.
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