So knowing what I knew it seemed as though today would be an exciting day of hunting. Cold and rain in the forecast with the water down to a manageable 6 feet on the water scale. 6 Feet is a great number, the point partially covered with water and there is just enough water by the Old Spot to keep the confounded dog walkers out. I'm at the lot and there is one truck already there and hunter gone, but he could not be too far ahead of me, the park opens at 6 am now and it's 6:15. As I make it to the water I caught the other hunter and his dog, he was a mere 20 yards in front of me which made all the difference, he got to the only semi-dry place before me. You see all the knowledge in the world don't make you smart. The water level read 6 feet but the water was the highest I've seen it in a long time, what's that mean? I could not tell you, the good Lord Heston seemed to be testing my faith. If I knew the water was at that level I would never have gone out.
I stop and chat it up with this guy, who was only carrying a Nike duffel bag of blocks, and congratulate him on finding possibly the only dry spot and wish him luck. I'm now wading in waist high water in search of anything that I could possibly set up my stuff in. I find some knee high water set my chair up, which is under water, and throw my blocks out. I look pretty good. Good cover and my blocks look really really good. I have 15 minutes to spare before cilling time and enjoy the morning rituals while sitting in the water.
The bell goes off and there I am, sitting in water, cold water. Morning fly is nonexistent. A hour or so goes by with a few showers in between and finally a set of Widgeon come in gear down. I lock on then pull off, I don't want them as much as they want me. Again, the good Lord Heston testing me? My feet have been in the water the whole time and they feel like blocks of ice. Time is moving very slowly. Another couple of sets of Widgeon take the bait but I'm not game. Did I mention the fact that the guy I passed on the way out is a horrible horrible caller and he calls constantly which is also making it hard to sit there. I don't think he noticed that all the ducks were hitting my spread first with no calling then exiting towards his spread.
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| Chuck awarding me the "Sportsman of the Year Award" 2007 |
I actually make it to 10:30, water down just below my knees while sitting, but my feet are freezing, I call it before the next rain shower blows through and head out. I stop by again and chat a little. He shot two of those Widgeon that I passed on and was extremely happy. He asked "why did you pass on shooting those birds?" I told him my new promise to myself, "I'll only shoot a Widgeon or something comparable only after I bag a Mallard or Pinny first, this way I'm at least cleaning something worth while later." He had carried out a mere 6 blocks plus a pull string, his spread looked not believable. It was his first time out there and he was shocked as to how much water was out there, I said it only gets higher and higher as the year goes on....
On my way out I thought somehow I got some rocks into my boots and it was painful walking out. I was mad because I thought I was going to push those rocks through my booties and ruin my waders, and how hard it is to replace them. As I continued to walk out the pain subsided and I realized the rocks were just my feet being frozen and defrosting on my way out.
GBCH
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