October 24
Waterfowlers, bird watchers and prairies visitors seem to pass through
the Quill Lakes in central Saskatchewan. Late October attracts up the
dyed-in-the-wool duck hunters who see the northern flights of the green head. It draws the old school water fowlers who seek double and
triple curls mallards, bull sprigs, a few teal, widgeons,
shovelers, gadwall and divers. All are
in full breeding
plumage ready to head south to impress the hens. They are about
to enter the gunning gauntlet from North Dakota down to Texas and
Louisiana.
The water is high and the coast marsh harbors thousand of
ducks and reflects soft lights to create continual flight that inspire the
wildlife artist and photographer. I found a incredible spotting scope on Ebay, an old school Bausch and Lomb ED 80mm spotter. You sit at water edges
and watch these hilarious birds enjoy other web footed company as hundred
of thousand of waterfowl congregate. Truly a melting pot of bird life. And here on the Quills the learn from the elders the ways to
migrate. It is a huge party that happen each year.
When I meet up with fellow hunters who have been hunting with us for years, I notice we are all beginning to look like Hemingway with graying beards and seeking more thrills. I do not hunt with those that count numbers and brag about shots nor those who claim ownership of birds they supposed they shot. They are well motivated to rise early spend hours laying out the spread and then wait. Most days it over by 11:00 and let loose the labs to sweep for the outlier. We do not group shoot and so each is responsible for counting. A rule of thumb is that we shoot gentleman's limits hoping that we find all the sailors that fly off to die. A return to camp filled with coffee, hot soup and then the task of cleaning. Cleaning usually takes 2-3 hours. Sometimes a nap is needed but by 3 we are scouting for fields or marsh and by 5 its time for huns looking for scratch. Evenings are a quiet supper discussing layouts and tactic for the next day and by 8 lights out.on
When I meet up with fellow hunters who have been hunting with us for years, I notice we are all beginning to look like Hemingway with graying beards and seeking more thrills. I do not hunt with those that count numbers and brag about shots nor those who claim ownership of birds they supposed they shot. They are well motivated to rise early spend hours laying out the spread and then wait. Most days it over by 11:00 and let loose the labs to sweep for the outlier. We do not group shoot and so each is responsible for counting. A rule of thumb is that we shoot gentleman's limits hoping that we find all the sailors that fly off to die. A return to camp filled with coffee, hot soup and then the task of cleaning. Cleaning usually takes 2-3 hours. Sometimes a nap is needed but by 3 we are scouting for fields or marsh and by 5 its time for huns looking for scratch. Evenings are a quiet supper discussing layouts and tactic for the next day and by 8 lights out.on
Patterns to the snow are disperse because of John Deere.
Crop loss is almost gone and the outfitter have to travel further and tell stories about the gold old days ten fifteen years ago. You see Ag engineers made more efficient combines and seldom do you see swath full with ripe wheat, barley head easy pickens for the geese and ducks. They love field pea because they shatter but in today's farming the waterfowl are left to feed on the waster and leftover And so they hop from field to field in search of the best pickings. This fustrates the snow goose hunter who tries to anticipate the next morning flights. Little
is left for the gess to swarm around and so the move quickly in search of
grains to fatten.
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| Mostly Northern Greedheads and no Blues |
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