Update From Cali Boys

Mutual Destruction-noun 

• a U.S. doctrine of reciprocal deterrence resting on the U.S. and Soviet Union each being able to inflict unacceptable damage on the other in retaliation for a nuclear attack. 
• The name given to two hillbilly hunting partners in CA whenever they get together and the antics that ensue. 

Yep, Mutual Destruction, that about sums us up.  I believe I told you guys about Kevin lying to the Ruskies about getting fifty ducks.  You also heard about the year before when “we” had to clean out the decomposing skunk out of our blind (“here’s your blind boys, take it or leave it.”)

I also won’t spend much time going into detail about having to recruit my wife to help pick up decoys two years in a row since my “hunting partner” was off dirt bike racing.  I still hear about that from her. 

Wifey picking up Man's blocks

I ain’t going to shine you Hoy7 boys on, after last year, we had hit rock bottom.  We were already suffering from the absence of ducks coming anywhere remotely close to our blind, and to top it off, we were in the midst of a two year drought and due to water restrictions imposed by the state of California; our club wasn’t even going to get water this year.  Sure we could pay a reduced rate and hunt a dry field, but we could also fish in a swimming pool and get similar results.

“You boys picked a hell of a year to join a duck club.” – The Duck Whisperer

Fast forward a few months and Kevin used his salesman skills to get us in to a h-h-h-h-h-high dolla duck club owned by the Duck Whisperer.  The type of clubs captains of industry and other big wigs shoot at, definitely not the type of place for a couple of hillbillies like us.  This is the type of place where rules are followed and member expectations are high because the ducks are aplenty.  For all the years we spent in the skunk blind wondering where the ducks actually were, well, they were at this spot and now, apparently we were going to see how the 1%ers lived.  If that script and the ensuing chaos we cause sounds predictable, it’s all that and more.  Some highlights…

• I mentioned it was a high dollar club, but I blacked out the cost.  Seriously, Kevin and I are driving back from a deer hunting trip in the Eastern Sierras and we started talking about duck season and I went into full amnesia mode over it.  He thought I was kidding and the only thing I can think of is it was my body’s natural defense mechanism to keep me sane and shut down my brain.  Kind of like what they say happens if you see a horrific event and bury it deep in your subconscious.  I managed to CTL-ALT-DLT the entire thing as if it never happened.  I simultaneously “poofed” both my savings account and my memory at the same time.  Incredible.
• Kevin deciding he wanted to pull the trailer down to the club the night before opening day, arriving at midnight with his diesel F250 and 30’ travel trailer to a club full of sleeping industry captains.  If I had more time and space, I literally could write a whole chapter on just this event.  It was a great way for the new guys to introduce ourselves into the new club - Mutual Destruction is in the house!
• Parking the said travel trailer into “our” self declared spot and in the daylight of the next morning finding a sign from the club owner that had been posted there previously saying, “NO PARKING IN THIS SPOT.”  How were we supposed to see that sign in the moonlight at midnight?  Ahem, Mutual Destruction - gotcha again!
• Despite the sign, Kevin deciding to leave the trailer in said spot for 3 weeks and eventually the club owner, aka the Duck Whisperer, towed our trailer on his own to a different spot and dropped enough “F Bombs” to cause shrapnel wounds in my eardrums. 
• Our hillbillie Polaris Ranger won’t idle or start without starting fluid, so while the rest of the club is firing up their new ATVs and riding off to their respective blinds, I got the engine exposed and a can of starting fluid in hand trying to hand-job the Ranger into starting.  “Oh don’t worry about ol’ Betsy, she’s just a little cantankerous!” I’d say to the rest of the club as they rode past our hoopty duck ride. 
• The Duck Whisperer told us to use 8 oz weights on our decoys.  He also put a clause in the club rules about all decoys needing 8 oz weights.  He then sent an email out about all decoys needing 8oz weights in case anyone missed it in the bylaws.  When we showed up before the season started, he inspected our decoys.  “Those don’t look like 8 ounces boys.”  Any guesses about what size weights we had?  Most of ours had 6 oz and Kevin even put 4 oz on a few of them, “They won’t blow anywhere – we’ve never lost decoys before,” Kevin told the Duck Whisperer insistently.  Have I ever told you that Kevin is a heck of a salesman?
• Finding our said decoys after a wind storm blown 300+ yards from the blind.  Our S#&% was so blown out, I thought the decoys belonged to another blind, but sure enough, they were ours.  

By the way, did I mention that Kevin’s wife had their second baby in November?  Right smack in the middle of duck season.  Who does something like that?  Talk about bad planning.  

Oh, did I mention that my wife is due with our first baby the first week of January…as in any day now?  Mutual Destruction – gotcha again! 

“You boys picked a hell of a year to join a duck club.”  You ain’t lying Duck Whisperer, you ain’t lying.

So where does that leave us?  Well Kevin has hunted twice this year and has a total of 11 ducks so far..

I’ve been hunting solo most the season and am somewhere around 50 ducks.  50?  Seriously, go ask the Ruskies if you don’t believe me.

Fast forward to Wednesday, December 31, 2014…25 MPH winds on the forecast.  Baby is due at any moment, but this is the storm day of the season!  If this is going to be my last chance to hunt for a few weeks, possibly the rest of the season, then it’s time cue up some Bon Jovi, kiss the wife goodbye, and go out in a Blaze of Glory!

With winds that strong and gusts that were even stronger, every duck in the grasslands was up and moving.  The morning flight was insane, multiple flocks of 500 teal blowing through.  Shooting time starts and I have a spoonie trying to commit suicide and land in my blind.  It’s basically self defense at this point, it was either me or him, so I had to blast him.  I love getting a duck with the first shot of the day, but a spoonie?  Eff it…I got six more ducks to go!  Let that be a lesson to the rest of you great northern Shovlers out there, don’t get that close or you may meet your spoon-maker!

Next a flight of teal comes in and tries to land feet down in the decoys, BAM-BAM, two shots, two green wings fall.  I’m Annie friggin Oakley at this point.  

Oh, it’s on!  I was letting all sorts of ducks pass by just because I didn’t want the hunt to end so quickly.  It was unreal.  If I could have filmed it, it would have made for the type of duck hunting videos that people actually pay for.

Final count for the day, 6 green wing teal and 1 spoon diggler.  Hell of a day for what could be the last hunt of the year.

Not sure what the rest of the season holds.  Hoping I can still sneak out for a couple hunts, but with the baby due any day now, I may be on lockdown.  Now way to tell, but something tells me the Mutual Destruction story is far from over.  

Goodluck to all you Hoy7 boys, hope you stay on the X!