Al Hansen
Well-known member
Wow, when I try to wrap my mind around it, I can't even begin to think of where to start. Actually, it was two years prior to 1954 when a plan began to evolve. Back then I was 11 years old, had a paper route and found myself hardly able to stand it when I rode my bike to the next house with that mighty thick Minneapolis Star and Tribune Sunday paper. I knew every duck hunter on my route because invariably they all had some basic things they did. The first being that when they got home from their morning hunt, they always hung their ducks over the posts of the clothes line. That is where I began to learn the names of the ducks they shot like mallards, pintails, teal, redheads, bluebills, canvasbacks, widgeons, gadwall and even some ruddy ducks. Wood ducks were about as rare as hen's teeth but I found them down at the head waters of the Minnesota River where I stumped around looking for great places to catch crappies when our season opened.
I lived in a small town in western Minnesota by the name of Ortonville. It was right on the South Dakota border straight west of the Twin Cities on Hwy. 12. Most of the guys that I knew who hunted were all vets of WWII. It seemed like we had a lot of hunters but I remember one thing better than that. We had more pot holes than hunters and that is where I learned how to jump shoot. It was always that challenge to find the pot hole that know one else had hunted. Normally that one spot is where the ducks were.
Back in the fall of 1954, I happened to be a wide eyed 13 year old, that had purchased a used Winchester model 12 Sweet 16 to be that gun. It took me well over a year probably closer to a 1 1/2 years to pay for the shotgun. My source of income was my paper route.
I knew of the gun dealer in our area because he was the guy who sold my parents the house they bought in town. Mr. Schoen was also an avid gun dealer. I remember when my parents were signing papers at his office. I spent time looking at shotguns.
By the way, Martin Schoen was born in 1870 and died in 1958, when I was beginning my senior year in high school. He was a wonderful man and I can still vividly recall meeting with him in his office one day and asking if I could buy a shotgun? I asked him what he would recommend that I buy considering the fact that I would be using this gun for ducks, geese and pheasants. Little did I know about cottontails, jackrabbits, squirrels and pigeons. He showed me several different shotguns but the one he really liked the best was the Winchester 12 Sweet 16.
My paper route did pay for that shotgun and by the time duck season rolled around in 1954, I had already had my neighbor and two doctors in town, come to our home to talk to my parents about hunting.
That year was very special because when our season opened on the first weekend of October, I believe. Marvin Gess and his son, Bud, took me along on a hunt. That is where I shot a drake bluewing teal. It was then that I knew I had that terrible disease known only by duck hunters!
As I grew older, let's say from my freshmen year on, it was a rite of all true duck hunters to go downtown the night before the season opened and just look and listen. We had two pool halls where guys could buy a tap beer for a dime and after several of them had disappeared, it was then that the stories got better and better. The cafes in town were loaded with duck hunters, too. Everyone was dressed with the same camo outfit being a brown jacket, brown duck pants and a brown duck hat, known as a Jones hat.
Oh my, I just remembered back in the middle 70s when I was about to go on my first Wisconsin duck hunt and couldn't find my Jones hat. I searched every nook and cranny for it but to no avail. It was then that I asked my "then wife at the time" if she had seen it. She said, "Oh, I threw it away because it looked horrible. It was beginning to fall apart and and had spots of blood on it." It just plain hurt back then mostly because I was so darn attached to it. I was given that hat by my parents and it went on a lot of duck hunts in Minnesota, then 8 years in Alaska starting in 1966 and finally to Wisconsin where it met its demise! Yes, I was attached to that hat more ways than one, I guess---
Back in 1957, when I was a junior in high school, I ended up going with some of the older guys on the opener. The slough we hunted was loaded with mostly mallards. When high noon came you could tell what time it was because that is when you could easily hear distant guns shots. I happened to be on a rat house which I found very comfortable and an easy place to shoot from. It was then that I had a small flock of mallards fly over me, maybe only 30 yards away and I never shouldered my gun. It was what I had seen. It marked the very first time in my life that I had ever seen a black duck. I yelled to my buddy, Bob, saying, "Did you see that black duck?" Of course he asked, "Why didn't you shoot?" I couldn't answer that question. However, in my lifetime of duck hunting, there have been other events that have taken place very similar to the black duck story and I remember them well.
One was here in New Mexico. I had all my hunting equipment and clothes in my truck and when school got out I was driving south on I-25, at 75mph. It took me 45 minutes from school to the spot where I parked my truck. Then another 20 minutes to drive to the spot I had found with my four wheeler.
I had set out a handful of decoys, mostly mallards with a couple of drake pintails in the group and found a spot to put my folding chair. I guess I hadn't been there for 5 minutes when a lone drake mallard became the 1st duck on my strap. It was not too much longer when 5 mallards (3 drakes and 2 hens) came in and two more greenheads stayed so now I had 3 on the strap. It was a clear blue sky day with the sun behind me when I first heard the whistles. I had a flock of 75 pintails come by. 90% of them had to be drakes and they were gorgeous. It was then that they spotted my small spread and little did I know what a show they were going to perform. As they peeled in dropping out of the sky with bodies twisting this way and that, and always having their heads straight out and steady, it was the very first time in my life that I had seen such a large flock of pintails and secondly, I had never observed them whiffling like they did. It was stunning to say the least.
Back in 1956, I had sold my Winchester and bought a Belgium A5 3 inch magnum with a 32 inch ribbed barrel. I knew that in the gun were three rounds of 3 inch magnums 2 shot. I can only imagine what I must have looked like at the time but the best I can come up with would be holding my shotgun cradle style in my arms, most likely with my mouth wide open and eyes bigger than sauce pans. I can still see some of those drakes with their breasts on top and flying like they were upside down. Their twisting and turning was a sight to behold. I never fired a shot but thoroughly loved every second that those gorgeous birds flew down and around me before heading off to another spot. And the answer is "NO" I have never kicked my butt for not shooting. That experience for me far outweighed shooting another duck.
Our duck season opens on October 28th. Today, I noticed that the Rio Grande was flowing at the rate of 27 cubic feet per second. For down here, that means that I will not be using any decoys with 3 inch keels. My decoy of choice will be some Herter's 72 mallards and a few of my special painted black ducks. That is where I have taken a mallard drake and with a can of flat black, sprayed the entire decoy. They work wonderfully down here even though we don't have any black ducks at all . They sure get the attention of ducks wanting to come in.
I am getting my duck hunting dogs ready to go. Prior to the opener, I will take them down to where I am hunting and toss bumpers for them. I want them to get a good look at the environment that they will hunt.
Good luck to everyone. I will be counting the days just like I did 65 years ago!
Al
These pictures were taken in 2014. Chip and Habi sure had fun. and it was was the first time the two of them came out with me. Yes, I firmly believe duck dogs smile!
View attachment _MG_6013.JPGView attachment _MG_6023.JPGView attachment _MG_6130.JPGView attachment _MG_6140.JPGView attachment _MG_6147.JPG
I lived in a small town in western Minnesota by the name of Ortonville. It was right on the South Dakota border straight west of the Twin Cities on Hwy. 12. Most of the guys that I knew who hunted were all vets of WWII. It seemed like we had a lot of hunters but I remember one thing better than that. We had more pot holes than hunters and that is where I learned how to jump shoot. It was always that challenge to find the pot hole that know one else had hunted. Normally that one spot is where the ducks were.
Back in the fall of 1954, I happened to be a wide eyed 13 year old, that had purchased a used Winchester model 12 Sweet 16 to be that gun. It took me well over a year probably closer to a 1 1/2 years to pay for the shotgun. My source of income was my paper route.
I knew of the gun dealer in our area because he was the guy who sold my parents the house they bought in town. Mr. Schoen was also an avid gun dealer. I remember when my parents were signing papers at his office. I spent time looking at shotguns.
By the way, Martin Schoen was born in 1870 and died in 1958, when I was beginning my senior year in high school. He was a wonderful man and I can still vividly recall meeting with him in his office one day and asking if I could buy a shotgun? I asked him what he would recommend that I buy considering the fact that I would be using this gun for ducks, geese and pheasants. Little did I know about cottontails, jackrabbits, squirrels and pigeons. He showed me several different shotguns but the one he really liked the best was the Winchester 12 Sweet 16.
My paper route did pay for that shotgun and by the time duck season rolled around in 1954, I had already had my neighbor and two doctors in town, come to our home to talk to my parents about hunting.
That year was very special because when our season opened on the first weekend of October, I believe. Marvin Gess and his son, Bud, took me along on a hunt. That is where I shot a drake bluewing teal. It was then that I knew I had that terrible disease known only by duck hunters!
As I grew older, let's say from my freshmen year on, it was a rite of all true duck hunters to go downtown the night before the season opened and just look and listen. We had two pool halls where guys could buy a tap beer for a dime and after several of them had disappeared, it was then that the stories got better and better. The cafes in town were loaded with duck hunters, too. Everyone was dressed with the same camo outfit being a brown jacket, brown duck pants and a brown duck hat, known as a Jones hat.
Oh my, I just remembered back in the middle 70s when I was about to go on my first Wisconsin duck hunt and couldn't find my Jones hat. I searched every nook and cranny for it but to no avail. It was then that I asked my "then wife at the time" if she had seen it. She said, "Oh, I threw it away because it looked horrible. It was beginning to fall apart and and had spots of blood on it." It just plain hurt back then mostly because I was so darn attached to it. I was given that hat by my parents and it went on a lot of duck hunts in Minnesota, then 8 years in Alaska starting in 1966 and finally to Wisconsin where it met its demise! Yes, I was attached to that hat more ways than one, I guess---
Back in 1957, when I was a junior in high school, I ended up going with some of the older guys on the opener. The slough we hunted was loaded with mostly mallards. When high noon came you could tell what time it was because that is when you could easily hear distant guns shots. I happened to be on a rat house which I found very comfortable and an easy place to shoot from. It was then that I had a small flock of mallards fly over me, maybe only 30 yards away and I never shouldered my gun. It was what I had seen. It marked the very first time in my life that I had ever seen a black duck. I yelled to my buddy, Bob, saying, "Did you see that black duck?" Of course he asked, "Why didn't you shoot?" I couldn't answer that question. However, in my lifetime of duck hunting, there have been other events that have taken place very similar to the black duck story and I remember them well.
One was here in New Mexico. I had all my hunting equipment and clothes in my truck and when school got out I was driving south on I-25, at 75mph. It took me 45 minutes from school to the spot where I parked my truck. Then another 20 minutes to drive to the spot I had found with my four wheeler.
I had set out a handful of decoys, mostly mallards with a couple of drake pintails in the group and found a spot to put my folding chair. I guess I hadn't been there for 5 minutes when a lone drake mallard became the 1st duck on my strap. It was not too much longer when 5 mallards (3 drakes and 2 hens) came in and two more greenheads stayed so now I had 3 on the strap. It was a clear blue sky day with the sun behind me when I first heard the whistles. I had a flock of 75 pintails come by. 90% of them had to be drakes and they were gorgeous. It was then that they spotted my small spread and little did I know what a show they were going to perform. As they peeled in dropping out of the sky with bodies twisting this way and that, and always having their heads straight out and steady, it was the very first time in my life that I had seen such a large flock of pintails and secondly, I had never observed them whiffling like they did. It was stunning to say the least.
Back in 1956, I had sold my Winchester and bought a Belgium A5 3 inch magnum with a 32 inch ribbed barrel. I knew that in the gun were three rounds of 3 inch magnums 2 shot. I can only imagine what I must have looked like at the time but the best I can come up with would be holding my shotgun cradle style in my arms, most likely with my mouth wide open and eyes bigger than sauce pans. I can still see some of those drakes with their breasts on top and flying like they were upside down. Their twisting and turning was a sight to behold. I never fired a shot but thoroughly loved every second that those gorgeous birds flew down and around me before heading off to another spot. And the answer is "NO" I have never kicked my butt for not shooting. That experience for me far outweighed shooting another duck.
Our duck season opens on October 28th. Today, I noticed that the Rio Grande was flowing at the rate of 27 cubic feet per second. For down here, that means that I will not be using any decoys with 3 inch keels. My decoy of choice will be some Herter's 72 mallards and a few of my special painted black ducks. That is where I have taken a mallard drake and with a can of flat black, sprayed the entire decoy. They work wonderfully down here even though we don't have any black ducks at all . They sure get the attention of ducks wanting to come in.
I am getting my duck hunting dogs ready to go. Prior to the opener, I will take them down to where I am hunting and toss bumpers for them. I want them to get a good look at the environment that they will hunt.
Good luck to everyone. I will be counting the days just like I did 65 years ago!
Al
These pictures were taken in 2014. Chip and Habi sure had fun. and it was was the first time the two of them came out with me. Yes, I firmly believe duck dogs smile!
View attachment _MG_6013.JPGView attachment _MG_6023.JPGView attachment _MG_6130.JPGView attachment _MG_6140.JPGView attachment _MG_6147.JPG
