Thursday, January 20, 2011
The 30-Minute Fly
One morning in particular, we were hunting in the Spring Creek Impoundment. There were Gadwall, Wigeon, Blue and Green Wing Teal, Mallards and a few Pintails around. We were lucky enough to shoot steadily all morning and kill a good variety of ducks. The only "different" thing about the hunt was that the ducks seemed to move only at certain intervals. We were in there for about 5 hours, and all morning we would sit for a half an hour and see nothing, then there would be a good movement of ducks, we would get some shooting and then all would be quiet for another half an hour.
I jokingly told Kelly that the birds were on the "30 minute fly" rule. Being fairly new to duck hunting she took me seriously, thinking that this strange occurrence actually happened regularly and that the official name for it was the "30 minute fly" rule. I guess maybe I had a little to do with convincing her that this was the case.
So anyhow, we had a good day. That evening we were out in front of our trailer and saw a car go by that I recognized as some of my hunting friends. We jumped in the Blazer and followed them down to their trailer to shoot the bull. When we got there I introduced Kelly to the guys and explained that she was my new hunting partner. They seemed pleased to meet her and asked her about getting started in the sport and how much she was enjoying it. She conversed with them for a while, and then one of them asked if we had done any good that day.
Kelly piped right up and said we had done real well. Told them the ducks were on the "30 minute fly".
They all sort of averted their eyes and stared at the floor or whatever else seemed handy. No one seemed to know how to respond. We talked a few minutes longer and then left. On the way home Kelly asked me what had gone wrong with our visit. I explained to her that no other hunters were familiar with the "30 minute fly" rule, that it was something I had just made up that morning. She slugged me a few times for making a fool of her, but that has all since past and is now a joke for all of us.
Reelfoot Lake
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One of the very first places I ever read about, that sounded like great duck shooting, was Reelfoot Lake in Tennessee. I looked at pictures in my Dad's very first hunting book and it seemed to be a true duck hunter's paradise. For 45 years or so, I thought about it and even tried to schedule a hunt there about 10 years ago. Finally made it over there this past season.
What a disappointment. From what was once a great duck hunting destination, a sad, commercialized industry has formed. The entire lake is controlled by guides. According to the guide that took us out, he "owns" his blind location for the rest of his life. He told us that several years ago there was so much hunting pressure, that the Wildlife Commission stepped in and put a halt to any future blind locations. Guides seem to own mostly all the blinds and have erected monster blinds that will hold 8-10 hunters. Along the route to the blind we used, we only saw one blind that appeared to belong to an individual hunter. The big commercial blinds all had out huge decoy spreads. Put out before the season and left all season long. I guess that there are enough migrating birds that each day a few fresh birds see the decoys and respond. But most birds flew high over head and seemed to move from one of the three refuges to the other.
Besides the fact that the once famous Reelfoot Lake has become just a money-maker to the few blind owners, we also made a poor choice in our guide service. We were not told anything like the real truth about the hunting. Black Jack Pocket Hunting Club was a major disapointment.
Any duck hunter knows that the weather can be all the difference between a great hunt and a total bust. We had good duck hunting weather. We saw a lot of ducks. But seeing them at a distance and getting them to decoy were miles apart. We only killed a couple ducks that came into what I would consider "shooting range". Everything else we killed was skybusting. We had a good bunch of hunters in the blind and didn't send a single cripple away from the blind. We either killed them or missed them clean.
The trip was expensive, the drive was long, and the results were not what we hoped for or expected. Am I sorry I went? No. Dreamed about it for too many years. Would I ever go back? No! Certainly wouldn't recommend it to any other sportsman.
Damn shame.