Blogging a 3-state duck killin' (or hunting) sweep
by Richard Simms
posted December 22, 2008
I am on-the-road with duck hunting partner Ross Malone. We're making a 3-state waterfowling sweep... a "Duck Hunting Hat-Trick."
If we really wanted to, we could probably make it four states... but on this trip we will probably allow any ducks in Tennessee to live another day. This hat-trick includes Alabama, Kentucky and Arkansas.
Once or twice each winter, I always try to make some sort of waterfowling road trip. This time the laptop is on-board Ross's Duck Wagon. Provided that nerdy Verizon guy and his merry band of engineers will indeed follow me along (meaning provided my Verizon card works in the duck hunting hinterlands), I'm going to Blog this excursion right here. Me and Ross will share the good, the bad and the ugly.
Got any questions or smart-*** comments, please send me E-MAIL
SCROLL DOWN FOR BLOG
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Wednesday, 5 am... sipping coffee and waiting on my ride. Temps warming.... Ugh! Will make a quick hunt this am in Jackson County, Ala. before heading north to Kentucky where hopefully colder weather awaits. More later.
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9:15 (EST) Wednesday
Well, Stage One of this duck hunting hat-trick is done. A quick hunt in Jackson County, Ala. on the Raccoon Creek WMA. We just walked into a flooded corn field ... an area that traditionally roosts some ducks.
All was quiet before daylight... a bad sign. Raining, 56 degrees before daylight and getting warmer instead of colder.
We saw more mosquitos than ducks. But I got the chance to tryout my brand new jacket.... Gamehide, $144 (plus tax) from Sportsman's Warehouse.
Ain't I pretty!
Short-waisted with a removable rain liner. It was nice... too darn hot for 60 degree weather, but I stayed dry.
It stayed amazingly dark and gloomy the short time we hunted. We saw a handful of ducks... a few wood ducks and some "big ducks" (mallards or gadwalls) flying up in the ozone layer. None cared a flip about where we were, although some guys on some nearby open water did some shooting.
Ross and I are debating... Raccoon WMA is immediately across the river from the Crow Creek Refuge which traditionally winters thousands of ducks. There is a great crop on the hunting area, just no ducks right now.
Ross is convinced they'll find it sooner or later. I'm suspected that over the years the Jackson County ducks have been conditioned to avoid the East side of river, food or no food. We shall see as the year progresses.
Of course the best thing about hunting near Stevenson, Ala. is breakfast at Jacks. They make an awesome biscuit with bacon, ham, sausage, eggs, cheese... whatever you want.
We're well fed as we cross a foggy, wet Monteagle Mountain enroute to Kentucky. Expect to arrive on a friend's private duck hole where the Ohio River meets the Mississippi for an afternoon hunt. We're hoping to run out from under the rain, and into some colder temperatures as we head North.
Stay tuned.
Got any questions or smart-*** comments, please send me E-MAIL
Erik A. writes, "If'n you ain't gonna show any dead ducks on your blog, can you at least show a pic of someone falling down in the water???
Give me time... it'll probably happen.
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6:45 pm (EST) Wednesday
Stage Two of this waterfowling hat-trick is history. We are the guests of Ross's friend Doug in Ballard County, Kentucky. If there is a such thing as "Duck Hunters' Heaven on Earth," this is it. Doug's land is situated in the middle of two or three refuges and upon arrival we sat in the warmth of the "Duccentral Lodge" and watched flock after flock of mallards trading north. The picture window looks out over the hunting area. It's better than any TV show or movie I've ever seen.
We hit the blind about 2:30 Eastern time and I was quickly reminded that just because you are "under ducks," it doesn't mean you can kill 'em. We were resoundingly ignored numerous times but had the pleasure of watching one, two, three... or maybe five-thousand mallards, snow geese and Canada geese trading overhead. It does an East Tennessee boy's heart good to know such sights still exist.
We are on the backside of serious weather... rain hit Monday and on Tuesday, a huge icestorm hit Ballard County. I won't tell you how many mallards died out of Doug's two blinds on those two days. It's still cold and icy today, but the hardest weather has passed, and the ducks are obviously "more selective."
Doug's son Brent, and Brent's cousin Cody Ray arrived at the blind to finish out the afternoon.
They brought luck... as well as a man who REALLY knows how to call (Brent).
Not long after they arrived, three mallards showed up on a rope. No circling high, in fact no circling at all... no nothing... they just pitched in on top of the blind. Two greenheads did not leave.
Not long afterwards a group of six started to work... the more traditional pattern this time... circling the decoy spread again, and again, and again... duck hunters know the drill. Every pass you think "this is it." Guns come halfway up and sometimes safeties even "click." Then the birds head back aloft and the blind nearly sinks beneath the hunters' frustration.
Until suddenly a drake and a hen peeled out, dropped straight down with wingtips nearly touching. No one was expecting it... and several rushed shots went far astray. But the greenhead died, albeit not the prettiest of kills.
And so the afternoon went... we were oft ignored, but occasionally for some reason one or two mallards would commit their final act of ignorance. The most memorable were a pair that fell from the sky... 200 yards up, downwind. But they had decided they wanted to be on the water, in front of the blind, in a hurry.
Both birds rocked and rolled, twisting nearly upside down to lose their 200 yards of altitude in a virtual instant. No shots went astray.
When the clock struck 4:38 (CST), the end of legal shooting hours, guns were unloaded and dead ducks collected.
Six greenheads and two susies had been reduced to dinner. Big fat, healthy mallards that will make good meals.
Forgive me... my focus on this trip is shooting the shotgun... not pretty pictures.
Tomorrow morning it's across the mighty Mississippi... off to Waldenburg, Ark. where Ross is part of a quality waterfowling lease. The weather looks less than "ducky," but these hunters do as all hunters must... we take the cards that Mother Nature deals us.
Got any questions or smart-*** comments, please send me E-MAIL
Richard and Ross,
The blog is a great Idea. I have enjoyed reading the first entries. I haven't been at all this year, but I will be going this Saturday for the first time. Reading about your adventures has helped to "pump me up" for this weekend. Good Luck tomorrow!
Larry L.
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6:30 AM (EST) Thursday
Awake, showered, sleeping bag rolled up and stuffed... we're headed for Arkansas. We expect to arrive in time to hunt, long after any "morning rush." But this place is a hard place to leave.
Will hopefully update from the road.
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9:40 AM (EST) Thursday
After a very icy start, we're rolling. A bit more freezing rain fell overnight. The Duck Wagon had a sheet of ice on it and we were bad worried about the roads. The last half-mile into this Kentucky Duck Haven is pretty much 4-wheel-drive only, even on a good day. But after some mental turmoil, we rolled. The 4-wheel drive wasn't too bad... but when we finally hit pavement after several miles on dirt, it was ugly. The road looked like a mirror in spots, but the Duck Wagon, and Ross's skillful driving, pulled us through.
We headed West and crossed the Ohio River at Wickliffe, Ky. into Illinois... then made a left turn and immediately crossed the Mighty Mississippi into Missouri. We were in three states in a span of about two minutes... that's kind of cool.
The Ohio River is loaded with barges shipping goods from one end of the country to the other.
We're Southbound on I-55 now... Ross has a cold, a sore throat and has lost his voice. I haven't decided if it's a blessing or a curse.
But he says he doesn't feel bad... "I just sound bad," he rasped. "We're about two hours out. We'll get in a blind about Noon."
Hardcore duck hunters don't know when to quit.
Got any questions or smart-*** comments, please send me E-MAIL
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1:45 PM (EDT) Thursday
Can you hear me now?
Verizon Wireless is very marginal here inside the Bayou DeView Hunting Club in Waldenburg, AR. The little nerdy Verizon guy and his band of Merry Men are having a hard time finding it. We've arrived much later than hoped... isn't that always the way it goes?
Reports are that all the flooded rice fields are still frozen... thawing slowly... apparently very slowly. Duck movement is slow.
But we're headed to a blind somewhere. One member hunting solo had a good morning... 4 greenheads, a spoonbill and a Speckle-bellied goose.
But other folks have had it tough. Tom Hackney from Chattanooga is here. He and his nephew have killed one greenhead... but they're sticking it out, praying for the thaw.
Later...
I say man-up, break some ice by foot or vehicle, then kill-em dead. It's that simple when I am sitting in a warm office "thinking" about duck hunting anyway. Hope yall slay some good birds today.
Erik A.
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7 PM (EDT) Thursday
Later is here... no hunting today. The fog settled in as thick as pea soup and ponds remained frozen. Me and Ross drove around Bayou DeView and just enjoyed the view, what we could see of it. We glassed about 4,000 ducks and snow geese on their lake... sort of an "unofficial" mini-refuge on the 3,000 acre duck hunting lease.
But hopes are high for the AM. Temperatures are actually rising tonight. Thawing is in progress and a stiff wind is blowing. The prediction is for 15-20 mph tonight with gusts of 25... and rain. We hope the ducks have read the same "duck behavior" books we've read ... that they know the flooded rice fields are thawing... and they're hungry.
We tracked down Tom Hackney and his nephew, Scott Hackney as they left their blind with a lone dead greenhead.
Some other folks had better days. Brad Smith, a FedEx pilot from Memphis had the good day mentioned in the previous entry.
Corey Nicccum, Bart Tracy, Jimmy Griffith, Pete Hotard ventured west onto the Cache River, bringing home 14 mallards and a pair of woods ducks.
There is much to be said for hanging out at "duck camp." I actually played a bit of "camp cook" tonight... adding some venison to Brad's bean soup and frying up dove and duck fingers. If we don't sleep well, it won't be because we're hungry.
Hanging out in duck camp, debating and discussing (or cussing) the weather... migration patterns, guns & chokes, the best blinds... all knowing that it is the ducks that have the last word.
Tom and Scott are cleaning firearms, hoping they'll shoot true, and often, tomorrow.
It's 7:00 (Central time) and Ross has crashed, gathering his strength for a long day ahead.
Not sure what time you'll hear from me again tomorrow? It's sort of up to the ducks.
I have all the faith in the world that if the ducks finally show, Ross being sick or not, will have nothing to do with what falls. Because I have seen you shoot! Hope tomorrow is better than your last two days.
Steve R.
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E-mail Friday 1 pm - Here it is 1:00pm on Friday, and while I am trying to live vicariously through your good fortunes, but I have NO blog update to critique! What kind of blog is this? I want to see mass quantities of dead waterfowl, pics of the Arkansas sunrise coming up over a rice field, tales of the occasional stumble of hunters tripping in the frozen waters while sloshing to a blind in the dark of pre-dawn. But what do I have today??? NOTHING. It's like I am not even hunting at all......Show me the dead ducks!!
Erik A.
7:45 PM (EST) Friday
It's not a pretty picture... we woke up to 64 degree weather. Yesterday morning everything was frozen solid, today we ran the air conditioner on the way to the blind. A heavy rain shower hit just before daylight, and five minutes later there were stars in the sky.
And now Ross and I are both sick... woe is us. Tom Hackney and nephew Scott took care of us this morning. Sadly the ducks did nothing to make us feel better.
Scott Hackney, waits with anticipation.
We saw ducks... thousands of ducks, they just weren't buying what we were selling. As Ross said, "I'm not sure what's more frustrating. Hunting East Tennessee where you don't see ducks... or coming to Arkansas where you see thousands of ducks that just won't work."
Two spoonbills and one hen mallard were "reduced to the bag." Other folks were more successful than us. Seems to be one particularly "hot blind" right now. We weren't in it.
As always, the number of light geese... snows, blues and speckle-bellies... is absolutely incredible. The entire time you are in the field, there is not a single moment when hundreds or thousands of geese aren't criss-crossing the sky. They are horizon to horizon all the time, but they are well conditioned to never fly lower than 100 yards.
By Noon the temperature was above 70.
We bailed out, I hit the bed at about 1 pm, and never moved until about 30 minutes ago. Ross and I have declared our room "The Infirmary."
Scott was the only one in condition to head back out for an afternoon hunt. Three mallards won a free ride back to the lodge with he and his partner.
Tomorrow is another day.
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2 pm (EST) Saturday
Ross and Tom are frying up bacon and eggs... probably the best thing that's happened today... so far. Ducks are whipping our butts. Again this morning, saw thousands... killed two. Weather is better... in the 40's, stiff breeze, but the ducks are not very hungry, or well-educated.
It is still a sight to behold... awesome sunrise and good company. And I didn't miss a shot today ... only because I never pulled the trigger. Back home I hear two friends killed five mallards this morning... so much for traveling to Arkansas
But of course, we do not take such road trips just to "kill." (Good thing, right?) We "Road Trip" to see new sights, meet new people and to broaden our hunting horizons. And that means life is good and gettin' better every day.
A few pictures of "the sights and new hunting horizons."
An incredible sunrise
Ross strikes a pose (He's good at that after traveling with me.)
Pose #2
The snow geese and blues stream overhead virtually non-stop.
A nearby lake that serves as a "mini-refuge."
This is where we were hunting today... you can see the pit and decoy spread in the middle of the flooded field. Folks who get to ride the 4-wheeler have it made. But it's a LONG half-mile slog for the folks who have to "hoof it."
Packing up the gear
Sam (Malone) surveys the scene. She hasn't had to work to hard this trip. But that's OK. The old girl has paid her dues.
I'm feeling 100% better after yesterday's 24-hour malady. After bacon and eggs, we're probably heading back out for an afternoon hunt.
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6:45 (EST) Saturday
We were back in the field for an afternoon hunt... me and Ross headed for a blind where we saw several ducks resting as we drove out this morning. We ran off about a dozen mallards and 50 spoonbills as we walked in. We had high hopes.
The first thirty minutes were quite promising. We had two bunches of ducks work us hard but wouldn't commit. Then a single greenhead made one short circle, and then made the mistake of cutting across the decoys.
Ross smoked him... and we had "color" in the blind.
Ross shows off the afternoon "harvest." Sam was very hungry for dinner and in no mood to pose for pictures.
Sadly, after that it was back to the same old routine. One bunch of ducks after another cruised across sky high but refused to pay us any mind.
But we didn't get skunked. In fact none us of have yet to be skunked on a trip to the blind. Granted, we certainly haven't seen the kind of day one hopes for when duck hunting the great State of Arkansas. But to kill ducks of any kind every trip afield is not to be scoffed at. (Bear with me... I'm searching for the silver lining to this cloud
Tomorrow is the long drive back to Chattanooga and the end of this Waterfowling Road Trip. Based upon the action so far (or lack there-of) Ross and I are debating whether to bother with a morning hunt. The consensus right now is to pack up tonight... make a quick one or two-hour foray afield at sunrise and then hit the road.
Be advised... that consensus was arrived upon at 7 pm Saturday evening. We will see if it remains intact at 4 am Sunday morning.
I just got through reading your entire blog. You did a very good job of reminding me why I never got into duck hunting. Have a safe trip home, and hope you and Ross are feeling better.
Jim M.
Thanks! We are.
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10 AM (EST) Sunday
Forgive my French... but "Holy Crap!"
That's about all I can say about this morning. It was 28 degrees when we woke up at 4 am. Unbeknownst to me, the thermometer was still falling... fast. And the wind was still blowing... harder and harder. It was a steady 20 mph screaming unbroken across the Arkansas rice fields. We know now the temperature fell to about 20 degrees... which calculates to a wind chill of about five degrees.
I repeat... "Holy Crap!"
(FYI... we're crossing the Mississippi River into Memphis at this instant.)
As Tom Hackney said, "This is the kind of day that separates the men from the boys." (Or separates the insane from the sane.) Most mornings we fought to see who got to ride the 4-wheeler in. Today I kindly offered the 4-wheel ride to Ross who still has a cold hanging on. He said, "Hell no, I'm walking so I can try to stay warm!"
I was convinced that the screaming wind would keep our water open. As we approached the pit in the darkness, the morning erupted in noise. Even in the dark you could see a black cloud of 5,000 snow geese rising, their cries drowning out the sound of the wind. It was a sight to behold as the rising cloud of geese blocked out the stars. We had higher hopes the roosting geese would keep our water open.
We were only partially correct. As we reached the pit there were pockets of open water... within 20 minutes it was rock solid. For 45 minutes before shooting time I stomped through the darkness and the decoys breaking ice. But by the time I made a circle in the shallow flooded rice field, my footsteps had refrozen. It was a lost cause and when daylight came, we were rock solid.
No matter... the ducks knew what was coming long before I did. The day before we had watched literally thousands of ducks criss-cross the skies. Today our straining eyes saw only empty air... maybe a few dozen ducks compared to the thousands 24 hours earlier.
They saw the handwriting on the wall and either headed South, or at least to the nearby Cache River. Today's duck hunt was over before it started.
We did, mainly out of desperation, try to skybust a few snow geese... actually managing to scratch one down.
But he went down crippled 100 yards away. As Ross and I trudged through the ice for the truck, Scott Hackney headed across the ice in the other direction in pursuit of the snow. He and Tom are toughing it out today, praying for enough sun and "thermal energy" to maybe thaw some ice. It is slim hope.
It's been many years since I've suffered through such a bitter, painfully cold morning. There was a day, 35 years ago, when I did it and didn't think much of. Now as I approach AARP-age, I wonder if I will ever do it again.
Since we began this Waterfowling Road Trip at 5 am Wednesday, we have encountered virtually every variety of winter weather imaginable. Warm, rainy skies and mosquitoes at the outset... the tail end of a bitter ice storm in Kentucky... remnants of the "Big Freeze" in Arkansas that whipped right around and turned into near record breaking high temperatures in the 70's the very next day... and back to virtually arctic conditions this morning.
I repeat one more time... "Holy Crap!"
As for "duck killin'," our afternoon in Kentucky was the highlight of the trip. As for "duck huntin'," it's all been a highlight... for me anyway. I've enjoyed good times with my favorite duck hunting coach, mentor and cheerleader, Ross Malone. I've survived an ugly 24-hour virus bug. I've met new people and seen lots of new stuff. My hunting horizons are many days, and about 1,400 miles broader than they were last Tuesday, and that means life is good and gettin' better every day.
Through a still raspy, laryngitis-strangled throat, Ross says, "I'm still sick, but it's nothing that four (dead) greenheads can't cure."
We are headed East via Hwy. 72 through North Alabama. We are debating whether we want to hunt there this evening?? The computer tells us it will be a balmy 38 degrees there this afternoon
Stay tuned.
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8 am (EST) Monday
I'm home in my own little chair and own little computer.
Ross and I stopped by a couple of our hunting areas in North Alabama yesterday and played "Parking Lot Scouts." Those are the folks who spend most of their hunting days driving from parking area to parking area, leaning out the truck window and saying, "How'd ya do?"
We actually did get out of the truck to sit and watch one area for nearly an hour. We saw a pair of beautiful bald eagles, but relatively few ducks.
We were close enough however that we could both smell home, and were never inspired enough to pull a gun out of the case.
This Waterfowling Hat-Trick is done. As for duck killin', we were the ones who mostly got tricked.
However quitters never win and hope never dies.
The beauty of waterfowling is that every single sunrise, every single change in the barometric metric pressure, every cloud in the sky and every single breath of wind from the North can turn defeat into victory.
Tomorrow is a new day.
Thanks for reading.
Got any questions or smart-*** comments, please send me E-MAIL
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