I recently got out for a ruffed grouse hunt with Olive. I never mounted my shotgun towards a bird, but still had a successful hunt. From my perspective, it seems as though there is a lot of focus in hunting circles on shooting limits and trophies. For me, it's about the experience. I seldom get a limit and in northern Wisconsin a lot of the waterfowl aren't in their prime plumage during our seasons. If we, as hunters, only use trophies and limits as our measuring stick for success, then we will be disappointed on a lot of other great hunts.
Many of my hunts include optimistic goals. For example, on our recent hunt I really wanted to shoot a grouse so Olive could get a retrieve. However, soaking in a finer point of the experience is what really makes it successful. We had snow the previous day and the trees all had a coating of snow. I was blazing a trail with my snowshoes, which always makes me feel like I'm a rugged individualist.
The highlight of my hunt was in the "game" I took home. I was hunting on a state wildlife area and Olive pointed a folding camp chair. It wasn't much of a point, but she sniffed it long enough to draw my attention. The chair appeared to be in good shape and even had a carrying bag left with it. The snow is at least 16 inches deep and there were no indications that someone was coming back to get it. I don't know if anyone was planning on getting it, but I also hate litter. So, I brought it home and can't wait for camping season. There might not be any meat in the freezer from my hunt, but there is some new furniture in the garage.
The hunt was also successful because we were out for over two hours. We covered some ground I hadn't seen for a while. I like going to familiar places throughout the year so I can compare game tracks, trails, water levels, etc. during the various seasons. One of the bigger reasons I like grouse hunting with Olive is that it tires her out. Another simple pleasure is the tranquility of a tired puppy in front of the fireplace.
Saturday, January 25, 2014
Monday, January 13, 2014
Use it or Lose it
"It's like riding a bike. You never forget how to do it."
I don't completely agree with the above maxim. Although the basic aspect of a skill can be retained, the finer points can be lost. All skills are perishable and if they aren't refreshed, refined, and honed skills begin to deteriorate. This applies to people and dogs. I know this from personal experience relating to my skills and my dogs' skills. Winter is an easy time for us in the northern climes to hibernate, watch football, read about hunting, and browse hunting catalogs. Getting out and polishing our otherwise deteriorating skills can help break the winter blahs.
Last week I renewed a friendship with a friend and got out for a pheasant hunt on a game farm. I am not a fan of canned hunts or put-and-take hunting (the reasons are for a future blog) but I view this as more of a training event. We are both avid hunters and Paul has two Griffins that are well trained, as he belongs to a local dog training club. I left Drake and Olive home because they are flushers and Paul's dogs are pointers. I didn't want my less-than well-trained dogs messing up his dogs' good time.
Our reason for going out on a day when temperatures barely reached above 0-degrees Fahrenheit was to renew a friendship and work his dogs. Most hunting seasons are over and to keep a dog sharp, it's important to get them out on birds. There's only so much that can be learned and practiced in a park or yard with a dummy wrapped with a bird wing. At some point, the dogs need a live bird to flush, get shot, and fetch it back to hand. Any dog worth taking out of the kennel will get excited with a live bird and will behave differently than when they are under a controlled environment. I am not a dog trainer, not by a long shot, but I do appreciate a well-trained dog. It was fun seeing Paul handle his dogs and how they quartered a field.
The second skill to be honed on that day was Paul's and my shooting skills. Pheasants are not the fastest quarry, proper mounting of the shotgun, target acquisition, lead, swing-through, and game marking are still necessary. Proper leading proved to be an especially perishable skill for us. The first pheasant, despite being pointed by the dogs, escaped with a couple of warning shots sent in its direction. We eventually located the bird and put it in the game carrier, but it was a reminder of how proper skills need to be practiced.
Buying pheasants and hunting on a game farm isn't the cheapest way to harvest a few birds, but the investment can pay off when the sun is breaking in the marsh and the first flight of teal come whistling into the decoys. Practicing can be expensive, but it pays off when it counts. I'm not the best shooter in the marsh, but with more time and practice I hope to be a consistent shooter.
Our reason for going out on a day when temperatures barely reached above 0-degrees Fahrenheit was to renew a friendship and work his dogs. Most hunting seasons are over and to keep a dog sharp, it's important to get them out on birds. There's only so much that can be learned and practiced in a park or yard with a dummy wrapped with a bird wing. At some point, the dogs need a live bird to flush, get shot, and fetch it back to hand. Any dog worth taking out of the kennel will get excited with a live bird and will behave differently than when they are under a controlled environment. I am not a dog trainer, not by a long shot, but I do appreciate a well-trained dog. It was fun seeing Paul handle his dogs and how they quartered a field.
The second skill to be honed on that day was Paul's and my shooting skills. Pheasants are not the fastest quarry, proper mounting of the shotgun, target acquisition, lead, swing-through, and game marking are still necessary. Proper leading proved to be an especially perishable skill for us. The first pheasant, despite being pointed by the dogs, escaped with a couple of warning shots sent in its direction. We eventually located the bird and put it in the game carrier, but it was a reminder of how proper skills need to be practiced.
Buying pheasants and hunting on a game farm isn't the cheapest way to harvest a few birds, but the investment can pay off when the sun is breaking in the marsh and the first flight of teal come whistling into the decoys. Practicing can be expensive, but it pays off when it counts. I'm not the best shooter in the marsh, but with more time and practice I hope to be a consistent shooter.
The dogs were too bushed to pose for a proper picture.
Wednesday, January 1, 2014
New Year's Eve duck hunting
What's a duck hunter to do on New Year's Eve? If you hunt in a state where duck hunting is open, that's an easy answer. What if you live in northern Wisconsin and the temperature never got above 0?
For me the answer was fairly simple. Strap on some snowshoes, bundle up with some good long-johns, grab some loved ones (dogs, too) and head out to do some waterfowl and trapping scouting. I'm most successful when I duck hunt if I do a lot of scouting and have as many honey holes as possible. When the season is open I like to have as many places to hunt as I can. Finding these spots is best done outside of the season. I also like to keep a list of places to hunt, so when the season is open I don't rely on my fading memory.
Sure, the ducks are gone, but a basic knowledge about waterfowl habitat can still yield locales for future hunts. Cattails, wild rice, shallow pools, and other areas that frequented by our feathered friends can still be found during the hardwater season. Snowshoeing on the ice and frozen marshes can be a quick and relatively easy way to locate out-of-the-way duck holes.
As the snow gets deeper the snowshoeing gets better, especially for dogs. Not that the dogs can traverse the snow easier, but it tires them out faster and results in a quieter house in the evening. If our young dog doesn't get at least 45 minutes of exercise per day she is restless in the evening and makes sleeping through the night almost impossible. By taking her snowshoeing in deep snow, we can sometimes burn off enough of her energy to get two days reprieve from her puppy energy. A tired dog appreciates one of the finer things in life- a cold winter day with a warm evening by the fireplace.
For me the answer was fairly simple. Strap on some snowshoes, bundle up with some good long-johns, grab some loved ones (dogs, too) and head out to do some waterfowl and trapping scouting. I'm most successful when I duck hunt if I do a lot of scouting and have as many honey holes as possible. When the season is open I like to have as many places to hunt as I can. Finding these spots is best done outside of the season. I also like to keep a list of places to hunt, so when the season is open I don't rely on my fading memory.
Sure, the ducks are gone, but a basic knowledge about waterfowl habitat can still yield locales for future hunts. Cattails, wild rice, shallow pools, and other areas that frequented by our feathered friends can still be found during the hardwater season. Snowshoeing on the ice and frozen marshes can be a quick and relatively easy way to locate out-of-the-way duck holes.
As the snow gets deeper the snowshoeing gets better, especially for dogs. Not that the dogs can traverse the snow easier, but it tires them out faster and results in a quieter house in the evening. If our young dog doesn't get at least 45 minutes of exercise per day she is restless in the evening and makes sleeping through the night almost impossible. By taking her snowshoeing in deep snow, we can sometimes burn off enough of her energy to get two days reprieve from her puppy energy. A tired dog appreciates one of the finer things in life- a cold winter day with a warm evening by the fireplace.
I may have found a new duck hunting spots.
The deeper the snow, the more tired the puppy.
Happy New Year and Meskousing Boats looks forward to being a part of your best year!
Monday, November 18, 2013
Sunset
It is with mixed emotions that I am coming to grip with the
idea the duck hunting in northern Wisconsin is coming to a close. It’s hard to believe that duck season opened
60 days ago. The season started
with balmy temperatures and bluebird skies.
As the season progressed, it included breaking ice to get to a honey
hole that never quite lived-up to its billing.
There were limiting-out days and days of getting skunked.
As northern Wisconsin’s season closes, some states are just
starting to open their seasons. I’m
jealous that our southern brethren get to hunt “our ducks” after they’ve come
into their breeding plumage. In
September we shoot wood ducks, teal, and brown mallards. About the time the drake mallards develop
their full breeding plumage of effervescent green heads, they head south for
warmer climes.
Do southern duck hunters get jealous when they hear of
September and early October opening days?
On one hand we’ve had two months of hunting while the southern hunters
have been champing at the bit to get out.
We’ll be putting away decoys, organizing gear, and cleaning shotguns for
storage while the waterfowlers in the south will be scouting their early season
spots and planning late-season hunts.
‘Round these parts some of the best duck hunting occurs as
the lakes and potholes freeze. Depending
on the weather, freeze-up can come before season ends or after the season
closes. Generally, the best migration
occurs after many of the lakes and waters have frozen. As ducks ride fronts south, they will look
for any open water and if you have a spot with some water, you’ll often have
ducks. If the waters freeze later, then
some of the best hunting comes after close.
This causes many hunters to spend their offseason bemoaning the wildlife
biologists that weren’t able to predict freeze-up three months ahead of
time.
As the sun sets on waterfowl season 2013, I can’t help but
think of how badly I need to win the lottery.
Then, I’d be able to duck hunt every day of the season and travel to the
southern states to hunt their seasons, too.
Instead, I’m lamenting on the locations I wanted to hunt but didn't get to, which were
surely holding piles of poultry and the locations I hunted that weren’t as
productive as planned. I’m also starting
to think of waterfowl season 2014, the gear I need, and the locations I want to
hunt.
The sun sets on my 2013 waterfowl season.
Monday, October 28, 2013
Nooks and Crannies
As I've returned from North Dakota, I've begun reminiscing about the great times and flocks of birds. It's also natural to think about what worked and what didn't work. Whether that be location, calls, tactics, decoy spreads, or the best duck recipe. I made a short post on Facebook about an "epic" hunt I had in my Backwater. Now that I have some time, I'll detail what made it so epic.
There is a river that meanders through a wide valley. Ron, who owns the house, said "Nobody has ever paddled that river." The temptation to be a pioneer, of sorts, was too great. I could claim and name new lands, or at least name spots. We already have the buffalo skull and I was looking forward to naming some others. From aerial images, I could tell there would be a lot of sloughs, oxbows, and other waterfowl enticing habitat. The big question was whether the river channel is choked out by cattails. Without a solid answer, I figured I'd still give a try.
My friends dropped me off with my Backwater and my chubby buddy, Drake. Within five minutes we came into a small pocket of what seemed like a dozen ducks. I dropped a redhead easily and christened the first spot "Redhead Hole." I'm a redhead, so it seems fitting, too. The diver duck was much slower and an easier target than the puddle ducks in the tall cattails. A few minutes later a few mallards came whipping down the river channel. I think these were ducks I had just flushed, but they were returning. I had to shoot a hen mallard in self defense for fear it would strafe me. I had to be judicious in my shots because Drake is an old dog and doesn't do cattails well and I didn't want to lose birds there. Drake was mostly along for a joyride.
I was feeling very confident and intelligent because I was being rewarded for my adventuring. I picked up a blue-winged teal in another spot, too. One slough seemed to be filled with ducks, even though I didn't bag one. Some Canada geese were a bend away and took off at the sound of my shots. The sight and sound of 200 geese taking off in the marsh is an experience, even if no shots were afforded. It was a beautiful bluebird day and about 55-degrees. Everything seemed perfect.
Then my fears happened. I lost the channel. I paddled in several directions and checked every possible cranny looking for some type of opening. No dice. I could see some current going through the cattails. I was along one bank and started dragging my boat through the cattails in a diagonal fashion to try and intersect any possible channel. I came into a few muskrat eat-outs, but still no channel. Drake tried getting out of the boat and wading along, but the vegetation was too thick for the old dog, so I was forced to pull my 52-pound boat and an 85-pound hound through the cattails.
I eventually found the channel and life was good again. Ducks seemingly flushed around every corner. I'd hate to guess how many times I came around a bend and saw ducks sitting on cattail mats or muskrat feed beds. Their eyes seemed to get as big as quarters before they flushed. I had already shot a hen mallard and didn't want to bag another one, if I could help it, so I held off on a lot of shots. Not all of the drakes had lost their eclipse plumage and I'm not great at identifying ducks on the wing.
After about another hour of paddling, the channel was choked out again. This time, I paddled back to an abandoned farm, ditched the boat and began hoofing out through a hayfield to the designated meeting point. My friends met me in the field and knew it's never good when a person starts a boat trip, but finishes on a hiking trip. We went back and got the boat and loaded it up.
There are several lessons to be had. Being first can be good, unless there's a reason nobody else has done it. However, going places after ducks that aren't pressured has it's rewards and therein lies a balance. When trying to hunt pressured ducks, try to think of locations that others haven't thought of or aren't willing to go to. When the weather is considered less than ideal duck hunting weather, the ducks don't disappear, so it may be necessary to go find them. A boat and it's cargo (Drake) should be as light as possible when dragging it through cattails.
Good luck this fall!
There is a river that meanders through a wide valley. Ron, who owns the house, said "Nobody has ever paddled that river." The temptation to be a pioneer, of sorts, was too great. I could claim and name new lands, or at least name spots. We already have the buffalo skull and I was looking forward to naming some others. From aerial images, I could tell there would be a lot of sloughs, oxbows, and other waterfowl enticing habitat. The big question was whether the river channel is choked out by cattails. Without a solid answer, I figured I'd still give a try.
My friends dropped me off with my Backwater and my chubby buddy, Drake. Within five minutes we came into a small pocket of what seemed like a dozen ducks. I dropped a redhead easily and christened the first spot "Redhead Hole." I'm a redhead, so it seems fitting, too. The diver duck was much slower and an easier target than the puddle ducks in the tall cattails. A few minutes later a few mallards came whipping down the river channel. I think these were ducks I had just flushed, but they were returning. I had to shoot a hen mallard in self defense for fear it would strafe me. I had to be judicious in my shots because Drake is an old dog and doesn't do cattails well and I didn't want to lose birds there. Drake was mostly along for a joyride.
I was feeling very confident and intelligent because I was being rewarded for my adventuring. I picked up a blue-winged teal in another spot, too. One slough seemed to be filled with ducks, even though I didn't bag one. Some Canada geese were a bend away and took off at the sound of my shots. The sight and sound of 200 geese taking off in the marsh is an experience, even if no shots were afforded. It was a beautiful bluebird day and about 55-degrees. Everything seemed perfect.
Then my fears happened. I lost the channel. I paddled in several directions and checked every possible cranny looking for some type of opening. No dice. I could see some current going through the cattails. I was along one bank and started dragging my boat through the cattails in a diagonal fashion to try and intersect any possible channel. I came into a few muskrat eat-outs, but still no channel. Drake tried getting out of the boat and wading along, but the vegetation was too thick for the old dog, so I was forced to pull my 52-pound boat and an 85-pound hound through the cattails.
I eventually found the channel and life was good again. Ducks seemingly flushed around every corner. I'd hate to guess how many times I came around a bend and saw ducks sitting on cattail mats or muskrat feed beds. Their eyes seemed to get as big as quarters before they flushed. I had already shot a hen mallard and didn't want to bag another one, if I could help it, so I held off on a lot of shots. Not all of the drakes had lost their eclipse plumage and I'm not great at identifying ducks on the wing.
After about another hour of paddling, the channel was choked out again. This time, I paddled back to an abandoned farm, ditched the boat and began hoofing out through a hayfield to the designated meeting point. My friends met me in the field and knew it's never good when a person starts a boat trip, but finishes on a hiking trip. We went back and got the boat and loaded it up.
There are several lessons to be had. Being first can be good, unless there's a reason nobody else has done it. However, going places after ducks that aren't pressured has it's rewards and therein lies a balance. When trying to hunt pressured ducks, try to think of locations that others haven't thought of or aren't willing to go to. When the weather is considered less than ideal duck hunting weather, the ducks don't disappear, so it may be necessary to go find them. A boat and it's cargo (Drake) should be as light as possible when dragging it through cattails.
Good luck this fall!
Monday, October 21, 2013
View from the Sidelines
Last week the dogs and I, along with some friends, traveled to North Dakota for a week of duck hunting. Much was learned, more shared, and memories made while in the prairie pothole region. Last year was my first trip to NoDak, which opened my eyes to an area I had previously held as "fly-over" territory. By the way, I use NoDak to make it appear as though I'm part of the "cool crowd."
I will have other posts about my experiences in the future, but for now I want to reminisce and pay homage to my duck hunting partner of the last few years- Drake. Drake is not my dog. He came with the girlfriend and was already trained and knowledgeable on early morning hunts when we met. He's the yellow Labrador retriever featured in many of our pictures, website, and brochure. Drake has the drive to hunt like few other dogs. Normally he's an easy-going well-mannered table food-begging puppy, but when there's fowl in the air he has a laser focus.
I'm not a great shot by any measure and remember one of my first hunts with my Chubby Buddy. He was seated behind me when I fanned on a few ducks. I had that feeling that someone was staring at me. I turned around and saw Drake was staring holes into me, as if to say 'Your job is to shoot the ducks so I can fetch them. You're not living up to your end of the deal, pal.' In ensuing hunts, I've been able to knock down a few ducks to whet Drake's thirst for fetching.
Drake LIVES for fetching birds. Watching him bring back a bird in his mouth is the epitome of happiness. Prior to Chubby, I never had a hunting dog. After seeing him bring back birds, I am convinced a Lab doesn't get to achieve true happiness unless fetching a bird. Drake enjoys bacon, grilled chicken, belly rubs, down comforters, fireplaces, and fetching sticks, but he'd give it all up to go duck hunting.
Last year in North Dakota, Drake made about 40 fetches in five days of hunting. He eagerly ran and swam in the cold water for every retrieve. He went out and got diver ducks in whitecaps, dabblers in Dakota muck, and flushed a crippled mallard from the cattails. One retrieve I hope I never forget was on a crippled diver. As Drake got closer, the diver dove under the water. It would come up a little ways away from Drake. Drake again swam to the duck until the duck dove under again. This repeated a few times with Drake closing the gap a little bit each time. Drake got about a foot away when the duck dove one last time. Drake stuck his head under and came up with the duck. He grabbed the duck with his head under water! That's drive and can't be trained! The duck was still crippled while in his mouth. Normally, a handler would not want the dog biting the duck, as this would possibly ruin the meat, but I watched Drake make a slight crunch on the duck and killed it. When cleaned, there was no damage to the meat. Again, this can't be trained.
While planning for this year's trip to North Dakota, discussions were had about which dogs to bring. Drake is 12-years old and can't hunt like he did even a year ago. There were two puppies that needed a chance to prove themselves and get some experience. We also added an extra hunter to fit into the truck, too. It was determined that Chubby had earned a spot in this year's trip because of last year's efforts. He watched me get packed up by putting in camo gear and a shotgun, so he knew I was going somewhere he wanted to go. He was beaming when I helped him into my truck for the trip.
I didn't hunt Drake every day and he only saw limited action when I did hunt him. Letting him sit in cold water for hours on end and trudging through mucky cattails would be too hard on him. We didn't dare leave him in the house alone while we were hunting, so we left him in the truck while we took the puppies. I'm not sure who was more broken hearted when I closed the topper- me or Drake. He wanted to go so bad each time, but felt it necessary to protect him from himself. There comes a time when we all have to watch from the sidelines.
When we got back to the truck, we'd let him out and he'd be happy to see everybody and sniff the birds we got. He didn't seem to hold a grudge or be angry. Drake was happy to see us and happy for us that we got a few ducks. He reminded me of a grandpa going deer hunting. Grandpa might not have gone deer hunting, but he was the one at the truck making sure the grand kids were warm and had hot cocoa. If he felt up to it, he'd maybe go for a short walk just to see if he could drive a deer past someone. Grandpa may or may not have bought a license, but he most certainly did not sight in his rifle as there was no chance he was going to shoot a deer. That was Drake on this duck hunt.
I did some jump shooting with Drake when I knew there wouldn't be much walking and took him to sit in the blind for a one hour hunt. He made a few retrieves with the same zeal as he always has. When he was bringing back those ducks, he looked like a lean hunting machine in his prime. At night he slept like the ol' dog he is.
Take a kid and a retriever hunting. You'll never regret either experience.
I will have other posts about my experiences in the future, but for now I want to reminisce and pay homage to my duck hunting partner of the last few years- Drake. Drake is not my dog. He came with the girlfriend and was already trained and knowledgeable on early morning hunts when we met. He's the yellow Labrador retriever featured in many of our pictures, website, and brochure. Drake has the drive to hunt like few other dogs. Normally he's an easy-going well-mannered table food-begging puppy, but when there's fowl in the air he has a laser focus.
I'm not a great shot by any measure and remember one of my first hunts with my Chubby Buddy. He was seated behind me when I fanned on a few ducks. I had that feeling that someone was staring at me. I turned around and saw Drake was staring holes into me, as if to say 'Your job is to shoot the ducks so I can fetch them. You're not living up to your end of the deal, pal.' In ensuing hunts, I've been able to knock down a few ducks to whet Drake's thirst for fetching.
Drake LIVES for fetching birds. Watching him bring back a bird in his mouth is the epitome of happiness. Prior to Chubby, I never had a hunting dog. After seeing him bring back birds, I am convinced a Lab doesn't get to achieve true happiness unless fetching a bird. Drake enjoys bacon, grilled chicken, belly rubs, down comforters, fireplaces, and fetching sticks, but he'd give it all up to go duck hunting.
Last year in North Dakota, Drake made about 40 fetches in five days of hunting. He eagerly ran and swam in the cold water for every retrieve. He went out and got diver ducks in whitecaps, dabblers in Dakota muck, and flushed a crippled mallard from the cattails. One retrieve I hope I never forget was on a crippled diver. As Drake got closer, the diver dove under the water. It would come up a little ways away from Drake. Drake again swam to the duck until the duck dove under again. This repeated a few times with Drake closing the gap a little bit each time. Drake got about a foot away when the duck dove one last time. Drake stuck his head under and came up with the duck. He grabbed the duck with his head under water! That's drive and can't be trained! The duck was still crippled while in his mouth. Normally, a handler would not want the dog biting the duck, as this would possibly ruin the meat, but I watched Drake make a slight crunch on the duck and killed it. When cleaned, there was no damage to the meat. Again, this can't be trained.
While planning for this year's trip to North Dakota, discussions were had about which dogs to bring. Drake is 12-years old and can't hunt like he did even a year ago. There were two puppies that needed a chance to prove themselves and get some experience. We also added an extra hunter to fit into the truck, too. It was determined that Chubby had earned a spot in this year's trip because of last year's efforts. He watched me get packed up by putting in camo gear and a shotgun, so he knew I was going somewhere he wanted to go. He was beaming when I helped him into my truck for the trip.
I didn't hunt Drake every day and he only saw limited action when I did hunt him. Letting him sit in cold water for hours on end and trudging through mucky cattails would be too hard on him. We didn't dare leave him in the house alone while we were hunting, so we left him in the truck while we took the puppies. I'm not sure who was more broken hearted when I closed the topper- me or Drake. He wanted to go so bad each time, but felt it necessary to protect him from himself. There comes a time when we all have to watch from the sidelines.
When we got back to the truck, we'd let him out and he'd be happy to see everybody and sniff the birds we got. He didn't seem to hold a grudge or be angry. Drake was happy to see us and happy for us that we got a few ducks. He reminded me of a grandpa going deer hunting. Grandpa might not have gone deer hunting, but he was the one at the truck making sure the grand kids were warm and had hot cocoa. If he felt up to it, he'd maybe go for a short walk just to see if he could drive a deer past someone. Grandpa may or may not have bought a license, but he most certainly did not sight in his rifle as there was no chance he was going to shoot a deer. That was Drake on this duck hunt.
I did some jump shooting with Drake when I knew there wouldn't be much walking and took him to sit in the blind for a one hour hunt. He made a few retrieves with the same zeal as he always has. When he was bringing back those ducks, he looked like a lean hunting machine in his prime. At night he slept like the ol' dog he is.
Take a kid and a retriever hunting. You'll never regret either experience.
Monday, October 7, 2013
Pass It On
I hate to admit it, but this weekend was the first time I took a kid hunting this year. It was also my first opportunity, but it seems like the kind of thing I should have done a few times already. I had the enjoyment of taking a nine-year old boy into the marsh. The expectations and priorities change when you take a kid hunting. Cole is an avid hunter and trapper and jumps at the opportunity to go hunting or trapping. The rise and shine time doesn't affect his enthusiasm.
He was five the first time I ever took him hunting. I was a bit apprehensive about getting a kid out of bed at 5AM to go sit in the marsh. My alarm went off and I muttered a few expletives about how I wish I golfed. As I began to stumble up the steps, Cole greeted me in his tighty-whities with a big smile and said he was ready to go. He had heard my alarm and got up on his own. He normally won't wake up when the dogs are barking at the top of their throats, but he heard the alarm for hunting!
When I go hunting with friends or by myself I hunt fairly hard. With a kid, the priorities change. It's important to try and pass on the hunting and conservation ethic to a younger generation. Preparation changes quite a bit, too. First and foremost, it's all about the snack pack. Some sunflower seeds, granola bars, Reeses Pieces, cookies, and a note from Mom does a lot to keep the hunt enjoyable for all.
Cole can't hunt in Wisconsin until he turns 10, so finding things to keep him interested and entertained are important. A woodduck call can provide a lot of entertainment for all (when done in moderation), begin his duck calling skills, and with a little luck a wayward duck may bring itself into range out of coincidence. Of course, should this happen, I'm sure to agree that he called it in. This year I purchased a jerk rig. This was also a great way to keep Cole involved in the hunt. It also freed up my hands for calling and shooting.
This morning the ducks weren't very friendly and didn't pay us many visits, so there were some long lulls. After patiently staring at the decoys for a few hours, Cole decided that he needed to build a fort. We hadn't hunted this spot before and I probably won't hunt it again so there's no need for a fort or blind, but figured we'd be OK with all of this movement. There was a bit of cover from some tag alders and a tall tamarack, so I wasn't concerned that his movement would spook any ducks that did come near. He had fun doing it and that's what it's all about.
I've also learned to set the bar low for our expectations. Cole is a harvester and likes seeing ducks fall out of the sky, but I set our goal for seeing a duck. We saw several ducks and geese. I was lucky enough to shoot a single goose. Cole was ecstatic because this was the first goose he ever saw shot. Also, on cue, two minutes after the close of hunting hours about two dozen geese wanted to land where we were set up. Cole encouraged me to shoot. This spawned a conversation about laws and ethics.
I've also found it beneficial to talk about the non-game species we see and discuss them. We had an eagle fly through our spread and watched belted kingfishers dive into the water. Talking about the non-game species and even other "sidebar" events like sunsets and sunrises help to keep the interest. It also points out some of the other reasons a person rises at O-dark-thirty to stand in waist deep water.
Taking a kid hunting is always entertaining. It takes a hunter to make a hunter. Someone took us out hunting for our first time.
He was five the first time I ever took him hunting. I was a bit apprehensive about getting a kid out of bed at 5AM to go sit in the marsh. My alarm went off and I muttered a few expletives about how I wish I golfed. As I began to stumble up the steps, Cole greeted me in his tighty-whities with a big smile and said he was ready to go. He had heard my alarm and got up on his own. He normally won't wake up when the dogs are barking at the top of their throats, but he heard the alarm for hunting!
When I go hunting with friends or by myself I hunt fairly hard. With a kid, the priorities change. It's important to try and pass on the hunting and conservation ethic to a younger generation. Preparation changes quite a bit, too. First and foremost, it's all about the snack pack. Some sunflower seeds, granola bars, Reeses Pieces, cookies, and a note from Mom does a lot to keep the hunt enjoyable for all.
Cole can't hunt in Wisconsin until he turns 10, so finding things to keep him interested and entertained are important. A woodduck call can provide a lot of entertainment for all (when done in moderation), begin his duck calling skills, and with a little luck a wayward duck may bring itself into range out of coincidence. Of course, should this happen, I'm sure to agree that he called it in. This year I purchased a jerk rig. This was also a great way to keep Cole involved in the hunt. It also freed up my hands for calling and shooting.
This morning the ducks weren't very friendly and didn't pay us many visits, so there were some long lulls. After patiently staring at the decoys for a few hours, Cole decided that he needed to build a fort. We hadn't hunted this spot before and I probably won't hunt it again so there's no need for a fort or blind, but figured we'd be OK with all of this movement. There was a bit of cover from some tag alders and a tall tamarack, so I wasn't concerned that his movement would spook any ducks that did come near. He had fun doing it and that's what it's all about.
I've also learned to set the bar low for our expectations. Cole is a harvester and likes seeing ducks fall out of the sky, but I set our goal for seeing a duck. We saw several ducks and geese. I was lucky enough to shoot a single goose. Cole was ecstatic because this was the first goose he ever saw shot. Also, on cue, two minutes after the close of hunting hours about two dozen geese wanted to land where we were set up. Cole encouraged me to shoot. This spawned a conversation about laws and ethics.
I've also found it beneficial to talk about the non-game species we see and discuss them. We had an eagle fly through our spread and watched belted kingfishers dive into the water. Talking about the non-game species and even other "sidebar" events like sunsets and sunrises help to keep the interest. It also points out some of the other reasons a person rises at O-dark-thirty to stand in waist deep water.
Taking a kid hunting is always entertaining. It takes a hunter to make a hunter. Someone took us out hunting for our first time.
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