Time to get serious...

After nine months of sweat agony, it was time to undertake my first season as a serious waterfowler. I'd consumed myself with dog training, blind drawings, blind building, and anything else waterfowl hunting related. The time passed relatively quickly and November was upon us before we knew it.

November 22nd, 2003

Opening day in Missouri for the 2003-2004 Hunting Season. Hank and I had driven up with all of the gear the day before and had scoped out the bar pit with Phil Rowling, a friend of Tim's from Charleston. Tim followed us up later that previous night and we got all of the gear ready to go for the next day.

Meeting Phil Rowland at his welding shop at 4:50 AM was the only thing that went by schedule that morning. Tim Moore, Hank, and myself followed Phil from his shop to the bar pit with a truck load of decoys and a Polaris Diesel four-wheeler on a trailer in tow. Accompanying Phil that morning was his son Zack, a very polite and strapping 12 year old. After pulling both trucks through the gate and down Northwest side of the levee, we parked beside some large oak trees that would conceal our vehicles from ducks flying overhead. Phil and Zack quickly donned their waders, loaded their gear, and headed across the levee to the Northwest bank of the bar pit. The plan was to wade across the bar pit to an island and setup our decoys. As usual, it took Tim and me a bit longer to get our gear together and follow along on our four-wheeler. Just as we crossed the levee and picked our path to the Northwest bank we saw Phil and Zack speeding back up towards us. They pulled up onto the top of the levee next to us and reported that the Northwest bank was too soft to allow us to wade. Phil suggested that we head around to the Southeast side and check the condition of the bank there. With Hank and me sitting on the trailer that is being pulled by Tim on the four-wheeler, off we go. Phil and Zack drive to the Southeast side and pull down into an area of the bar pit that is normally covered in water. When they get within 10 feet of the current bank I see Phil motioning at Tim to stop, of course Tim doesn’t see this. Within a few moments both four-wheelers are stuck in the mud that is an excuse for the bank of this particular bar pit. We all struggle and free Phil’s four-wheeler from the mud. Our efforts to do the same with the Polaris Diesel four-wheeler that Tim was driving are not so successful. After 20 minutes of trying, we finally decide that our hunt will be ruined if we don’t abandon the effort and turn our focus to hunting. We hooked the trailer to Phil’s four-wheeler and continued along the Southeast side of the bar pit in search of a portion of the bank that will allow us to put out our decoys and obtain some cover. With Murphy’s Law in full effect, the search for a suitable section of the bank was fruitless. With sunrise moments away we retreated to the area where the Polaris was still stuck in the mud where there was a point that offered us a bit of cover. We fought the waist deep mud and put out a couple of dozen decoys in water that was one to three inches deep, along with three rotating wing decoys. As we were putting these decoys out a group of Pintails landed in the bar pit less than 20 yards away from our position. We hastened our efforts in deploying the decoys and hustled back to the point we were using for cover. Our last task before settling in to hunt was to cover the Polaris four-wheeler with grass and branches.

Within moments of taking our positions ducks began working our less than ideal decoy spread.  I had put my shotgun away since my priority for the morning was to ensure Hank was steady and obedient.  In hind sight, I guess leaving the shooting to Tim, Phil, and Zack was a good choice.  Now I can still claim that I have never killed a Shoveler!  Much to our disapointment, that was the only type of duck that would work our pitiful spread that morning.  We saw plenty of Mallards and Geese working their way into the Ten Mile Pond refuge, but none of them were interested in the bar pit we were hunting.

By the time we packed everything up at around 9:00 AM, we had six Shovelers on the strap.  Hank had done a good job, considering it was his first hunt, and there were plenty of spent shells on the ground.  Good time it was, thanks to Phil Rowling and Zack for allowing Tim and I to tag along.