Most of us in quiet times tend to drift off into the past calling up and reliving special times.  To me that happens quite often but I began wondering why?  What makes some moments, some trips or some days more special than others?  I’ll bet right now you can think of one such memory with no difficulty at all – Right?  Recent research indicates that we find more pleasure in the pre-planning and anticipation prior to an event than the actual event itself.  Why is it that the drive to a destination or walking to a duck slough on opening morning is so much easier than the trip home or luggin’ gear back to the truck at the end of the day?  Why is it that ducks with wings set over decoys, a buck stepping into view or a dog on a solid point brings with it so much more adrenaline than a duck floating among decoys, the buck lying in the forest leaves or the gaudy rooster in hand?  For me personally I have no answer but I know it’s true.

Now back to the “memorable hunts” from above.  There are many very special ones that come to mind instantly.  It might be the day in my youth when dad and I sat on the northwest side of Uncle Paul’s slough.  I had the patience of a kid so an hour into the day was relocating to a new and “better” spot when from the south two large flocks of mallards appeared.  I hid as the first circled and circled eventually landing right in front.  The other circled the same way until I couldn’t stand it any longer.  Jumping up I pulled the hammer on that 16 ga. single and shot into the flock.  Reloaded and fired again and again a third time as they flew off.  Dad’s semi-auto Remington barked 3 times scoring each time on a curly-tailed drake mallard.  I missed but it was sooooo cool!  Another was Erik’s first buck.  Hunting farm country a big buck came busting from the corn at mach 5.  I shot and missed 5 times before that little guy pulled up his youth model 20 ga and fired.  The buck came skidding to a halt in that plowed field stone cold dead.  Out of breath we got to the deer together.  He was so excited his words were all jumbled together.  Still another was with Chad on his first deer hunt.  On that opening day I sat with him on ground stools back to back against a big oak tree in the dark until daylight then moved to the base of the same hill.  It wasn’t long until his scoped shot gun lit up the quiet woods with a “bang.”  Startled I waited and wondered until a small voice from above me said “Dad, I think I got one!”  When I reached him he pointed saying “I think he’s there!”  Sure enough lying lifeless on the forest floor was a nice buck and Chad’s first.  I was really proud of him that day and still am.  Although they happened years ago in my mind they’re still very fresh.

Well another of those memorable moments happened along last weekend on the Minnesota warterfowl opener.  I hadn’t hunted with Erik on the duck opener for a few years but he insisted we be together this year.  Scouting I had found a large concentration of birds mid-week on a WPA.  They were using a rice-filled large slough.  Once full of open water but now absolutely covered with wild rice and covered in ducks too.  After a short conversation he and his buddy Nolan scouted that slough last Friday night deciding to open on some small water adjacent to the big one.  With Fan Outdoors duties we knew I couldn’t get there till close to 9.  As it turned out they had limits by 7 and I later added only 3 to the bag but it was fun.  On day 2 we woke early, like 4 o’clock early and based on their scouting the night before made a move further into the WPA.  As it turned light we had stopped too short.  The birds were using water just over the next hill so picking up off we went again.  By now it was 9 am.  The chest-wadered boys ventured out about 15 yards onto a floating bog edge.  Erik coaxed me out following his steps exactly.  There’s a difference between my hip boots ‘n their waders mainly being me getting very very wet with a wrong step.  It was much like walking on a giant sponge but solid enough to hold us on the open water edge.  Decoys stayed in bags on hard ground but ducks didn’t care because within 2 hours we had 12 drake mallards with the balance of 3 limits filled with woodies ‘n teal.  Acea, Eriks’ Golden worked hard making all but 2 retrieves.  The walk back was long, hot and extremely satisfying.  It was great to be with him again resulting in a memory I recall often even though this one’s just a few short days old.

I share these stories because it would seem that many if not most of these memorable hunts aren’t so much about what we shoot, how big or how many but about the people, the family, the happenings of the day and the experience that gives it a special spot in our memories!  Think back on some personal to you – are we right?  Perhaps just perhaps there’s a lesson here!!!!

Good Luck and wishing you a great hunt making a memorable one the next time out!

Capt’n