Regrets…..

I missed the funeral of a friend today. I feel terrible about it; I knew I might miss it so I had an arrangement sent. His name was Mike Lyell; he went by the username “Sportsman 450” on several of the duck message boards I participate in. His name came from the fact, as he put it, that he was a “450 pound sportsman.” I’ve known him over the internet for about 5 years now, maybe a little longer. But, only last winter did I have my first chance to meet Mike. I brought him a collection of Mallards, teal, pintails, a couple of Speckle belly geese and even some Snow geese (he said he wanted ‘em). What started out as a simple gift of some game birds, turned into an hour and an half conversation. From that point on we talked on the phone fairly often, and I had even made plans to take him dove hunting this fall…. Unfortunately that won’t happen now. He had some great stories, and was a great story teller. Mike remembered the South Mississippi River Delta in its glory days. He could also raise hell on the internet with the best of ‘em…and the man HATED spinning wing decoys…. I remember Mike as a dog lover as well; I really believe he loved every Labrador he ever met. My only regret besides not making it to say goodbye was that I did not get to know him sooner…. His health had not been good for the past 5 years, and it took a turn for the worse last week. He died from complications from Sleep Apnea Monday night. He was 49….

Last night I had a dream about Duck hunting.... It has been a LONG time since I dreamed about anything vividly and clearly as this, and remembered it the next morning. There were Greenheads, Greenwing Teal and Pintails decoying in huge bunches, and I was busting my thumb trying to reload quickly. They were falling like rain for the first 15 minutes of the hunt, then when I was 1 bird shy of my limit of ducks a greenhead flew over way up in the sky. But his flight was cancelled with one quick shot. Then it was time for the geese, who flew in low and were headed for our blind like they were on a string.... They quickly met a similar fate and the hunt was over. As we were unloading and packing up I looked down at my watch and realized we hadn't been out there 45 minutes and we were done.

The dream was reminiscent of the last great season I remember, 1999-2000 right after the ice storm. Where I felt like I was a the bottom of a duck tornado, and couldn't reload fast enough....
Since then there has been a lot of debate on why the birds don't seem to be around like that anymore. And while I have given it more thought than I should, I really think it's a combination of several factors, which we as hunters can't control. But, there will be hunts like that again, or at least I believe there will. And I intend to d0 my best to be sitting in a blind when they happen.

Until then...one can only dream.

Well, as much as I am enjoying law school, planning a hunt around it is proving to be a nightmare. Since the Alaska trip has been postponed, we are looking at going to New Mexico Turkey hunting. The only problem, New Mexico's Turkey season runs from April 15 to May 10, and my finals are on May 2 and May 8. So it's either go early or go in the midst of finals. Dammit, I guess nothing can ever be easy.

Also, we're looking at a Tundra Swan hunt for next January. This could be interesting, I really want to get out there and experience different types of hunting if at all possible. I've got to get out there....

As for the club next season, no developments on that front, but the earlier leads look promising.

I'm still fired up about this years Mississippi Turkey season. It has been years since I've really chased longbeards and I am looking forward to it, at least Turkeys don't have to migrate.

Okay, less than a month after the season ends and I'm already lining things up for next year. Got a new gun for next fall (Beretta Extrema 2), it fits a good bit better than the old one (Winchester Super X2). While my last gun was extremely reliable over the last 7 years, it just never quite fit me, too much drop in the comb, and a little short in the stock.

Also, a buddy of mine has been setting up a trip north and it looks like it's gonna materialize. December 13-15 we are set to go sea duck hunting (Harlequin ducks and others) in Alaska. It's gonna be a totally new type of hunting for me. We are mainly after Harlequins, everything else is just incidental. I remember the first time I ever saw a Harequin duck, it was a hunting show (and I'm normally not a big fan of hunting shows), but they were sea duck hunting in Washington and the fellow shot one. I thought it was one of the most beautiful ducks I had ever seen. Furtheremore, just going to Alaska period is a dream of mine...so how could I miss this hunt.

In addition to the new equipment, and the scheduled trip, I've been looking for a place to hunt around here. I have a pretty hot lead that is about 1 hour from my house (a good thing). I have yet to see the property, but I will try to get up there soon. There are a couple of other leads but this one sounds like the best fit for me.

The Sun Volt lyrics hit hard, Jeff Tweedy’s words resonate through my head as this duck season draws to an end, “We’re all living proof that nothing lasts.”

It was 8 years ago that I hunted the fields around Eudora, AR for the first time. I went to the “Ain’t No Tellin’” duck camp as a guest of what was at the time my girlfriends Father. A couple of years later and my girlfriend became my wife, and he became my father-in-law. Over the years I became a fixture at the camp, learning everything I know about hunting ducks in the rice and bean fields from the men of the camp. Roy Lee Scroggins (LeeRoy), Larry (L) Clarke, and my father-in-law Tommy Johnson, were my mentors for everything from Decoy placement, to the art of calling ducks in a field. Over the years I would learn how to make a duck call from Tommy, and how to build a skid blind, among many other things. I got to know these guys and enjoyed hunting with them and call them friend.

Oh, and the blind stories that grew out of that camp. From these stories a camp begins to take on a personality of its own, it becomes at times bigger than the members. From the time Billy B. was sleeping in the Scary room at the old camp, when he heard a scratching in the walls, and yelled out during the night, “LAAARRY, LAAARRY, YA’LL GOT ANY BIG RATS IN HERE?!.” “I don’t think so, are you gonna be all right in there?” Larry replied. “I hope so!” Billy answered, his voice quivering the whole time. He made it through unscathed. And the time I decided to try and make my own road between two beanfields while pulling an 18 food pit blind on a trailer. Needless to say, a Honda Rubicon can pull a 4x4 F-250 out of the mud, thankfully.
One of my most memorable hunts happened a few years ago when I took my father on his second duck hunt in the delta, despite a somewhat slow afternoon he managed to kill a banded speckle belly goose. Good luck shined on us that day on a hunt I’ll never forget.

We’ve hosted pilgrims and friends in the camp over the years, limited out in fractions of an hour and more recently stared at blank skies. The years reached an all time low last year, and even though this year has been much better, the proverbial “Fat Lady” is warming up for the “Ain’t-no-tellin’”. This weekend will be my last hunt at the camp, thanks to a cousin who has little respect for the sanctity of duck season and planned a wedding on the last weekend.

The dissolution of the camp doesn’t come without strain, all of us will be forced to find somewhere else to hunt next season. LeeRoy is by no means ready for the camp to be dissolved, but he can’t do it alone, and Larry Clark made up his mind last season, and Tommy has been making up his all of this season. So the end of the Ain’t-No-Tellin’ is almost “saucered and blowed”.

There have been camps that killed more ducks (though in our prime we did pretty well), and many that had a more colorful history, but all else being equal I was proud to be part of the Ain’t No Tellin’ and always had a good time while I was there. Farewell, old camp.


The photo was taken after one of my last hunts at the camp, January 14th 2006.

Did I mention I hate the rain...ducks were pretty much what should be expected in the rain...hard to come by. It was pretty much a non-event that drove another nail in the coffin of the "Ain't-No-Tellin'" duck club.

We all but decided to take a trip to Canada next year to hunt...if the ducks won't come to you, you must go to them. I'm not sure what will happen before next fall but I'm in search of a new place to duck hunt. Any ideas? I'm open to suggestions within 2-3 hours of Jackson, MS.

Dad came in yesterday evening. So it was him, R. Johnson, Larry Clark, Tommy and me in the blind. We hunted Gar Hole number 2 and realized just how out of position that blind is. There were quite a few ducks in the hole and I think we managed to kill a few, but it was an ugly bag. A little bit of everything, only 1 greenhead I think. The ducks didn't work at all, and the luster of the new field is beginning to fade. This will, barring an unforeseen turn of events, be the last year of the "Ain't-no-tellin'". I'm gonna miss it. There have been some great hunts at this camp, and I've been on a few of them. But, the fat lady is warming up for the club. Time to move on for next year. All in all this morning was good company but really bad hunting, too bad Dad couldn't have had both.

Pretty good morning intermittent clouds and clear skies. Just Tommy and I, but we killed 5 ducks. 2 Mallards, 2 pintails, and a spoonbill. Spent a lot of time watching ducks, waterfowl activity was pretty fair all things considered. The wind and weather didn’t co-operate, but the ducks did halfway decent. I was calling at a pintail drake, and had him working when a hen mallard showed up from nowhere, we would’ve never known she was there if she hadn’t answered my call with “quack, quack, quack” as she flew into the decoys, she was no more than a foot off the water when Tommy shot her…. Dove hunting this afternoon.

Rain…if it rains much more I’m gonna have to get plans from Noah on how to build the Ark…. First weekend in Jan, and the nation is locked with warmer than average temps (no Ice to speak of in the upper Midwest, or snow, and in New York it was in the 60’s today. Wow, not so great for duck hunting. We’ve been having a pretty good year so far, in spite of the weather we are ahead of last year by a good bit. I’m sitting in the camp typing this to be posted when I get back and it is raining cats and dogs…so much for taking the camera to the blind…maybe I’ll get some good post hunt shots.

Dad’s coming in tomorrow and R. Johnson will likely join us at some point to hunt the weekend. I figured he might want to do that instead of hunting in a layout blind in the middle of a flooded bean field with the rain, our pits are pretty cushy all things considered.

Not sure what the future holds, this may be the last season for the “Ain’t no tellin’” I’d rather not call it quits just yet but its not my decision entirely. Either way, I’ll be hunting somewhere next year, I just hope there are ducks. Well, I’m off to bed it’s 11:27 and I just finished tying a few legs onto my call lanyard, so its time to crash. Later.

Last hunt of the before the split. Just Tommy and I hunting. We hunted the skid blind, and things started well. It was a clear morning, much different than the fog which surrounded us the day before. Things started off well with the ducks, but not with Tommy's gun, it became a single shooter. Regardless we managed a healthy bag of ducks within 90 minutes. But at the 90 minute mark a group of 4 mallards came in and began working the decoys, on there last pass they flew over the skid blind and as they circled the field completely disappeared into the fog a mere 40 yards away. It was definitely surreal. However, they came around and we managed to drop three over the blind. This would prove the last group we would see. The last single, a lone greenhead, worked the decoys about 10 minutes later while Tommy was handling Phoebe on a rather long blind retrieve. The last single came in and wanted to work, as I called he stayed around and then all of the sudden I lost him. I couldn't find him anywhere. About the time I figured he'd flown off, I stood up...and got busted. He'd been circling in the fog probably less than 10 yards above me and I couldn't see him. But, as soon as he decided to commit, my dumb ass had to pop my head out of the blind. Oh well, it was a good morning anyway. I hightailed it back to Jackson and made it back in time for my daughters dentist appointment, yeah it was a good day.

At some point this morning Lee Roy decided the flyer decoys needed to be moved. As he walked through the earth bound clouds I decided it might make a decent picture and you see the results on the left.

As for the hunt:

"The Fog"...I think I remember a cheesy horror flick by that name...and I was thinking of the movie heading to Gar Hole Number 2 this morning. We drove there at approximately 20 MPH and had trouble finding the turnoff...we couldn't see it until it was about 20 feet away. To say the visibility was terrible would be a gross understatement.

Duck hunting in foggy conditions is never a whole lot of fun...and this morning was no different. You hear birds sometimes and never see them, and they are either coming in or they aren't...and when they show up the ducks are SPOOKY.

However, in spite of that we had a pretty good hunt between Lee Roy, Tommy and myself, we managed to kill 16 along with a few geese. For the most part conditions just hammered us, but there were so many waterfowl in the area that we did okay in spite of them.

Well, my fears of the lack of sporting were unfounded. On the morning hunt with my Father I found myself temporarily paralyzed, several times, at the sight of a flushing covey. We were fortunate enough to get into a covey of about 20 wild quail...and needless to say only 2 shots were fired...by my Father. The dogs chasing the birds made me uneasy for the entire morning hunt, as did the location of the guide and the hunting partner, there is no bird in the world worth shooting a dog, guide or fellow hunter. So, I ended up taking a while to get into the flow, but we ended up with a good hunt before lunch.

And as for lunch...let me just say if you've never had a grilled peanut-butter and mayhaw jelly sandwich, you don't know what you're missing. It is truly the epitome of buttery, sugary, sandwich goodness! Particularly, when served along side a tasty bowl of chicken and dumplings.

The afternoon hunt had the two young guys, Justin and myself hunting together. We had a good hunt, I was starting to get over my "flushing paralysis", and Justin cured it completely when he shot at and missed a bird lit in a tree...he missed twice to be exact...from about 12 paces. The exchange went as follows:

Guide (Bo): "Mr. Justin shoot that bird."
Justin: "Alright..."
BANG!...bird still sits on the limb.
Justin: "That bird must be stuck on a limb!"
Bo: "Naw, Mr. Justin that bird ain't hit."
BANG!..limbs move above the bird...bird still sits there.
Justin: "That birds gotta be stuck on a limb..."
Bo: "Naw, Mr. Justin that bird ain't stuck that, that bird ain't dead, that bird ain't been hit!"
Me: "Ya'll want me to shoot him?"
Bo: (laughing) "I think so."
BANG!...bird falls sticks on a limb half way down.
Bo: (Laughing) "He's dead now! Mr. Justin NOW he's stuck on a limb!"

We all had a good chuckle out of that, it was even funnier because Justin is a pretty good wingshot, and we'd been going along pretty well until then. Then on the ride in, all I had to do was bait Justin and he confessed to the entire group that he missed a lit bird...Twice.

And to top it all off we had Steak and Shrimp for dinner...who cares about the jacket...I could get used to this....

My wife’s grandfather is not doing well, his heart is enlarged and he’s in the hospital. I am thinking of her and her family so much that I can hardly concentrate. I hope and pray that nothing happens soon, I have a final on Thursday, and can’t wait to just “get it over with.” However, I have a rather heavy heart at this time, I’m thinking so much of my wife, I can’t concentrate. I love you sweetie, and Mr. Johnson I love you as well….

I’m in Camilla, Georgia at Riverview Plantation with Dad and his crew. I like all of them, but I’m a bit unsure if this is really me. The hunt is going to be a buggy’d out deal where we shoot in pairs with a guide handling the dogs. Maybe, Snapp is right…”it ain’t the meat it’s the heartbeat.” Because, I’m getting no aniticipation heart beat from the idea of slaughtering pen raised birds who have to be coaxed into launching. However, I’m still mad at ‘em a little, so I don't know what it's gonna be like. I just really long for a flight of ducks, where I can screw them up with a call, or kill some in spite of me. Essentially, that seems like hunting to me…this is more like shooting. I guess I’m just saying I love my dad and the company he keeps…however, I’m unsure if this is my idea of fun…. I’m pretty sure Ramsey has it correct, that it doesn’t matter how many trips you take, you can never turn a “shoot” into a “hunt”…. Oh, well I’ll keep an open mind until tomorrow, hopefully I’ll be proven wrong and have a good sporting hunt….. Stay tuned.

The iceberg…we tried to hunt the deepest water with a flow, but 15 degree temps foiled us and we were locked up trying to hunt the rice fields. 2 atvs and a rake are no match for the ice. We managed to eek out 2 mallards, that was it…. However, all in all we had a great time. Note to self, don’t order the filet/shrimp in Walnut Ridge…. Also buy beer/liquor before you get there…. I look forward to going back to Snapp’s camp, and hopefully next time we will beat the weather rather than the other way around…..

Hunting with Hammertime Guide Service. Charles Snapp and crew did all humanly possible to put us on birds. It’s not in any way shape or form his fault we didn’t kill more. However, it is entirely possible that we could have killed more had we been doing a bit more hunting and less feeling out of the crew. T.J., Andy, Josh, Bubba, Jeff and myself were a bit cautious at first to shoot (at least they were…) I had no problem calling the shots. Killed a couple of snows thanks to a big wind (30 mph) and cool temps (33 deg). Killed a share of other birds too. However, we blew a few groups of pintails that might have worked, if only if we had managed to lay off a 20 note hail call when they were cupped…the party shall remain nameless however, they are a good ethical safe hunter, and really no one else has any complaints.

My Father-in-law's dog Phoebe retrieving a young Specklebelly goose I shot in Gar Hole Number 2 on the Secong day of the season in Arkansas.

No duck hunting since the second day of the season for me. However, next Wednesday I leave with a group to go hunt with Davey Crockett's guide service in North Arkansas (right outside the duckhunting "Mecca" of Stuttgart, AR). The weather is supposed to be right...and I'm so fired up I'm having a hard time concentrating on anything else...not good. Anyway, the day after I finish up hunting in N. Arkansas I'll be headed to Georgia for 3 days of Quail hunting. Should be lots of fun, I hope the weather cooperates and the ducks show up for our hunt. It's nothing special honestly except for the group I'm going with, a bunch of good guys and I look forward to sharing the blind with a few of them.

Just pulled in a few hours ago from opening weekend at the duck camp. Arkansas had their opener on Nov. 18. There seemed to be a marked increase in waterfowl activity from the past 4-5 years. We had a pretty good hunt opening morning from the Cadillac blind. Both dogs (Phoebe and Lou) were worn out and glad to get back to the camp. A buddy hunting just north of us didn't have as much luck but still managed a decent hunt on the opener.

Sunday, however was a different hunt. The blind was in the wrong place and we are hunting a new field. We suspected it would cost us, and it did. We only had maybe 4 ducks that even tried to work our decoys and most of them skirted by at 35 yard making only a quick pass. The ducks were so uncooperative that we decided to call the hunt short to move a skid blind to another portion of the field. We were stuck in a pit blind while we watched hundreds of birds land in just the spot we wanted to setup, but such is the way when you get a new field less than 1 week before the season open. Ill-prepared was the word for the weekend. The good news though is that I didn't forget how to shoot, and thanks to the Specklebelly Geese we had a decent hunt in the short time we were out there. On top of that I managed to get some good pictures. I'll post them up later. Time to rest.

Well I went to the promised land this weekend. Went to our camp in SE Arkansas to move a skid blind. Only problem was the field was just muddy enough to clog up the tires, but not wet enough to allow the 4-wheelers to sling it free. As a result two Honda 350's with winches couldn't pull it all the way out of the field. The blind was stuck.

The only reason we were moving it was due to a land deal that left us with 1 less field than we had originally leased for the season. Bottom line, the infamous "submarine field" is not gonna be hunted by the "Ain't no Tellin'" boys this year. In fact the end appears in sight for the "Ain't no tellin'" boys. I believe the camp will be disbanded after this season.

On a more positive note I went and looked at another lease about 12 miles to the north. It looks promising. The only weakness is a lack of duck blinds on the property. Becasue of this we'll be hunting in layout blinds or possibly in a skid blind. There were some ringers and spoonbills holding up on the catfish blinds next to the lease, also the Specklebelly geese are around in full force. While we were there the geese were stirring up constantly, and while we were working on the blind some Grey ducks (Gadwalls) and a few others tried to come into the flooded field we were working on. Maybe, just maybe it will be a productive season.

Stay tuned.

Why did I start a blog?

First, because I have so very little free time and wanted to squander the remainder of it on the random chance that someone actually cares what I think or do. Secondly, nobody was blogging about waterfowling (at least that I could find on a cursory google search). Unfortunately, not all niches need to be filled, but I wanted to give this one a shot.

Ok, so if you are an anti-hunter, please read no further and go in peace. I do not seek out anti hunting blogs and stir things up on them, and would appreciate it if you showed the same courtesy. The ironic thing is anti-hunters and hunters both share a great love of the outdoors, but both see their roles as slightly different, unfortunate.

Now, for all the hunters out there, I will keep this focused on hunting related topics, particularly waterfowling. I will hopefully post some images from time to time, and will provide my opinion on a variety of subjects. I hope you enjoy.