Flashback: November 12, 2013
I feel like these spur of the moment hunting trips have kind
of become my thing in the Deep South. I
really don’t have much of a choice though.
You see, trying to coordinate or hop on a hunt is out of my control in
this neck of the woods. I have family in
Louisiana, but they do not own or lease property in this great state that I can
hunt on. That being said, my
opportunities to hunt arise when one of my friends has an open spot in one of
their blinds. Fortunately, I have good
friends who love to have me on-board.
This trip came about late one evening in early November. Around 12 AM I received a call from a close
friend (we’ll call him Frank) asking if I, "would be down” for a hunt the
following morning. I, of course, jumped
on the opportunity and said yes. This particular individual hunts in Lake Arthur, LA, a small community 45 miles
east of Lake Charles. This region of
southwest Louisiana is considered by many the waterfowl hunting capitol of the
world. Hunters in this area harvest
hundreds of thousands of ducks every year as they make their way from Canada
and the Mid-West United States to warmer waters along the Gulf Coast and
Mexico. I would be insane to pass up an opportunity
as perfect as this one.
The graphs don't lie.
Deep in the heart of Cajun country.
In order to make it from Baton Rouge to Lake Arthur on-time, our hunting party set its departure time for 3:40 AM. Sleep at this point was pointless, I would be
more fatigued and more unfit to operate a semi-automatic firearm in close
quarters, and I had slept most of the day anyway. My excitement level was through the roof when
my friend picked me up and we made our way west on I-10. Accompanying me and Frank on this trip was
his dog, Beaux, and a mutual friend I will dub, Steve.
A man's best friend.
As we approached the hunting grounds, Frank informed the
party we would need to be ready to step off within a minute of parking the
truck to make it to our blind on time.
When he parked the truck I jumped out, grabbed my bag and our shotguns
from the back, and hopped on the ATV he offloaded from the bed of his
truck. Frank turned the ATV over, let
out a sharp, “GO!” to his dog, and we tore down a dirt road to a rice field
adjacent where we parked. About 50 yards
away from the blind Frank cut the ATV and we drudged through shin-deep water to
our destination. We arrived, jumped in
the blind, situated our camo, loaded our weapons, and turned to the sky in
anticipation of our soon-to-arrive prey.
Within five minutes of our arrival, Steve pointed out a duck that had
just landed on the water next to a decoy and opened fire. BOOM! The first kill of the day was in the
bag.
Early hunter gets the duck.
Beaux retrieved the duck and we were in business. For the next 20 minutes the kill zone was eerily
still. While we waited I fished my camo
face paint out of my bag and applied it to my face. Sidebar:
The paint provides great camouflage and is essential to maintaining low
visibility during the hunt. When the sun
comes up, my uncovered, Caucasian skin would be a dead giveaway to any duck
flying overhead. When they see a solid
reflective surface, that contradicts the pattern of the foliage below, their instincts
immediately raise a red flag. I was not
willing to ruin any opportunity that came our way.
Face paint from a Northern VA deer hunt, but y'all get the point.
Over the next 30 minutes we established
shooting lanes and areas to monitor to minimize the risk of missing approaching
ducks. Teamwork is crucial to a
successful hunt, especially in this aspect.
Ducks move fast and in the words of Ferris Bueller, “If you don’t stop and
look around every once in a while, you just might miss it.” For the next three
and a half hours we had scores of ducks fly in, but every group seemed to be
just out of range for our shotguns. Our hunting party opened fire at every
opportunity presented to us, but our attempts were mostly in vain. However, we
scored a few victories here and there, but by the end of the day we left with
only 3 ducks.
Just out of range.
It became pretty aggravating.
This was just a smack in the face.
Didn't leave empty handed!
It was a little discouraging to leave with only a few ducks
in-hand, but like I’ve said before, I will jump at any opportunity to get out
in the field and broaden my horizons.
Every trip is another invaluable experience to educate myself and
sharpen my mind. Even though the bag
wasn’t as full as we hoped it would be, I personally left the hunt
satisfied. I have never seen the sheer
volume of waterfowl moving in an area like I did that morning. We saw hundreds upon hundreds of thousands of
ducks. Everywhere! Ducks freakin’ everywhere! It was humbling to see Mother Nature in her
finest hour, moving organisms through an unfamiliar environment.
That hunt was my first and last of the season, but I couldn’t
have asked for more. It was a great
close to my waterfowl hunting this season in Louisiana. Not only did it provide a great experience, but it pumped me up for my return to the Shenandoah Valley where I can hunt as much
as I want. If anything the hunt was
motivation to focus on my studies in wildlife conservation, so one day I can spend
as many mornings as I want on the marsh.
Enjoy a few more pictures, and until next time... good hunting.
The kill zone.
Laying in wait...
My backseat buddy for the day.
He wasn't very talkative.
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