My 2017 duck season began exactly as my duck season has begun for 38 years. I’m at the same camp ground, going to the same little cove. This year I have my wife, our daughter, her husband and their son with me in camp. Three generations have hunted this public-land spot.
Because my son-in-law could not get off work until after dark, I pulled my daughter’s camper behind my truck with my pickup camper on my truck. It worked slick and we were in camp by midafternoon. We made certain that we had our two “traditional” spots by setting out some decoys in each location to save the spot.
With campers in position and decoys and blinds in place, it was time to start a fire and pour a couple of adult beverages. Soon my son-in-law showed up and we had a full squad.
At first morning light my daughter and her two “boys” went to their blind on the point and my wife and I went to our blind in the cove. Don’t forget I have hunted these two spots for nearly four decades. They are both on public water.
There were many other hunters this opening morning but none were at our exact spot, thank goodness.
The shooting began right on time and lasted for a couple of hours then died down to nothing. We pulled stakes and went to town for a hearty restaurant breakfast. Our usual routine.
Both families went back to our homes in Bozeman because we had tons of other chores and obligations; plus, I have never found the second day of the season to be worth squat.
Then for the next three and a half months, I got up at 3 or 4:00 o’clock in the morning for three or more days each week and went to hunt ducks. Most mornings it’s just me and by eight-year-old pointing black lab Bart. On the rare occasion I have a human hunting partner. I don’t go out of my way to connect with other hunters, just like Big Sky doesn’t go out of his way to find fishing partners. Some mornings I’m over two and a half hours from my home to my blind and some days I’m less than an hour from where I start to hunt.
Bart is phenomenal. I rarely give him any verbal commands. He knows where to sit and what to do when I fire a shot. All I say to him most days is, “good boy Bart. Good retrieve. Drop it. Good boy. Now go sit down.” That’s it. What a hoot to hunt with a dog that knows completely the entire routine.
I hunt lakes until they freeze over, then I switch to the rivers associated with the headwaters of the Missouri. I hunt the rivers until the shelf ice makes it too dangerous for Bart. Then I switch to rivers directly below dams where the water doesn’t freeze. Again, I hunt there until the shelf ice stops the whole season for me. Other hunters in Montana have access to spring creeks that hold ducks through the end of the season. All these spring situations are on private property. On four out of five years, I can finish the entire season without hunting the spring creeks. On those years like this year when it gets freezing cold for so long so early in the season, it would be nice to have a private spring creek to hunt. But for me it’s just not worth the time, effort and social capital I would have to pay to get access to a nearby creek. In the Gallatin Valley, they are all “taken “. I would have to first get permission then stand in line to wait my turn on the creek. I would rather ski and buy pen-raised birds for my dogs.
All things considered I had a wonderful season. I found birds. Not tons of birds but a steady flow of birds to keep me and my dogs engaged. Bart made phenomenally great retrieves. He is one of the best hunting-retrieving dogs I have ever had the pleasure to share a blind with.
My new pup Sky showed that she could do the job too. She didn’t show the drive I have grown to expect from my hunting dogs, but she is an absolute sweetheart and may jump in with all four feet next season.
I hunted the entire season with my left-handed Remington VersaMax. It worked flawlessly until a bad shell left most of the powder in the action and a wad stuck in the barrel. Until then, I was super impressed with the gun. I do minimum maintenance and cleaning of my shot gun during the season. Too dang busy, and I don’t care and I have a backup gun or two. But the VersaMax was hard to kill. It lasted almost the entire season with virtually no maintenance.
I find myself now thinking about the opening day of next season. I’m thinking a few times each day about the weekly training I will be doing all summer long to improve my dogs pointing and retrieving skills. But mostly I think about when I will be by myself or a family member sitting in my blind waiting for legal time to come around. This is what I want most from my falls and winter. It will be opening day for the 39th straight year at the beginning of October 2018. Can’t wait.
Some of my pics did not load right side up. Sorry.
Because my son-in-law could not get off work until after dark, I pulled my daughter’s camper behind my truck with my pickup camper on my truck. It worked slick and we were in camp by midafternoon. We made certain that we had our two “traditional” spots by setting out some decoys in each location to save the spot.
With campers in position and decoys and blinds in place, it was time to start a fire and pour a couple of adult beverages. Soon my son-in-law showed up and we had a full squad.
At first morning light my daughter and her two “boys” went to their blind on the point and my wife and I went to our blind in the cove. Don’t forget I have hunted these two spots for nearly four decades. They are both on public water.
There were many other hunters this opening morning but none were at our exact spot, thank goodness.
The shooting began right on time and lasted for a couple of hours then died down to nothing. We pulled stakes and went to town for a hearty restaurant breakfast. Our usual routine.
Both families went back to our homes in Bozeman because we had tons of other chores and obligations; plus, I have never found the second day of the season to be worth squat.
Then for the next three and a half months, I got up at 3 or 4:00 o’clock in the morning for three or more days each week and went to hunt ducks. Most mornings it’s just me and by eight-year-old pointing black lab Bart. On the rare occasion I have a human hunting partner. I don’t go out of my way to connect with other hunters, just like Big Sky doesn’t go out of his way to find fishing partners. Some mornings I’m over two and a half hours from my home to my blind and some days I’m less than an hour from where I start to hunt.
Bart is phenomenal. I rarely give him any verbal commands. He knows where to sit and what to do when I fire a shot. All I say to him most days is, “good boy Bart. Good retrieve. Drop it. Good boy. Now go sit down.” That’s it. What a hoot to hunt with a dog that knows completely the entire routine.
I hunt lakes until they freeze over, then I switch to the rivers associated with the headwaters of the Missouri. I hunt the rivers until the shelf ice makes it too dangerous for Bart. Then I switch to rivers directly below dams where the water doesn’t freeze. Again, I hunt there until the shelf ice stops the whole season for me. Other hunters in Montana have access to spring creeks that hold ducks through the end of the season. All these spring situations are on private property. On four out of five years, I can finish the entire season without hunting the spring creeks. On those years like this year when it gets freezing cold for so long so early in the season, it would be nice to have a private spring creek to hunt. But for me it’s just not worth the time, effort and social capital I would have to pay to get access to a nearby creek. In the Gallatin Valley, they are all “taken “. I would have to first get permission then stand in line to wait my turn on the creek. I would rather ski and buy pen-raised birds for my dogs.
All things considered I had a wonderful season. I found birds. Not tons of birds but a steady flow of birds to keep me and my dogs engaged. Bart made phenomenally great retrieves. He is one of the best hunting-retrieving dogs I have ever had the pleasure to share a blind with.
My new pup Sky showed that she could do the job too. She didn’t show the drive I have grown to expect from my hunting dogs, but she is an absolute sweetheart and may jump in with all four feet next season.
I hunted the entire season with my left-handed Remington VersaMax. It worked flawlessly until a bad shell left most of the powder in the action and a wad stuck in the barrel. Until then, I was super impressed with the gun. I do minimum maintenance and cleaning of my shot gun during the season. Too dang busy, and I don’t care and I have a backup gun or two. But the VersaMax was hard to kill. It lasted almost the entire season with virtually no maintenance.
I find myself now thinking about the opening day of next season. I’m thinking a few times each day about the weekly training I will be doing all summer long to improve my dogs pointing and retrieving skills. But mostly I think about when I will be by myself or a family member sitting in my blind waiting for legal time to come around. This is what I want most from my falls and winter. It will be opening day for the 39th straight year at the beginning of October 2018. Can’t wait.
Some of my pics did not load right side up. Sorry.
