The blind building a blind….

All great events come from a great idea, well executed.  And then there was our decision to hunt Pistakee Lake…… again.  After having our butts handed to us by Pistakee Bay (closest water access to our house) TWICE, we decided a wider map needed to be drawn, to “Terra Incognito”, or “the other side of Pistakee Lake”, or Myers Bay, as the locals call it.

We observed that in the fall, somewhat like the daisies of the spring, duck blinds sprouted all over the lakes nearby.  We made some calls, and found that the proper way to do this was to register for a chance to have a blind on the lake, and once selected, you went out on a boat with the DNR and numerous other hunters, equipped with a gallon jug with rope and weight attached, and your name- to select a spot for your very own duck blind.  We had our selection, noting the old rotten remains of a duck blind on the shore (we were certain it was last used around the time of Columbus…..)

 and decided that THIS would be the year of our success.

We then embarked on the PLAN (see Jim’s earlier blog about our ALL CAPS “PLANS”), making several drawings, and finally accumulating the necessary raw materials at Tators house (see “Goosses” story), and building sections small enough to be transferred north to Buffalo’s home, and then, by the BBB (Big Blue Boat), out to the duck blind spot selected.

What could go wrong?

We picked a nice early fall day to build our blind, and transported the boat and duck blind sections and poles to the closest boat launch.  It was earlier noted that the BBB belonged to my then fiancé (who will be referred to as Darling Fiance, or DF, to protect her reputation), but it was not mentioned that BBB hated men- or at least more specifically, me.  If DF was not nearby, BBB would resist starting, strongly.  It was especially unhappy when it would be threatened with drowning, which I did that day by forgetting to put the plug in.  at this point, lesser souls would have retreated back home and turned on a football game, but not us!  We emptied the boat, threw a few well placed curses into the air to scare BBB into starting, and loaded her (all boats are her, but this one particularly so) with fearless hunters and the pieces of our duck blind- and across the lake we went!

We locate our gallon jug marker, declare this spot hallowed duck hunting ground, and begin assembling the blind (a task worthy of a tale, but not here).  We finish it, and go to head home, with visions of ducks landing in our decoys in a few weeks.  All that was left was to come back shortly before the season started to camo the blind with lots of cat-tails and reeds.  Or so we thought.  BBB had other plans- she would not start, and the same well placed curses used at the boat launch did not avail us here.  My recollection is a but fuzzy, don’t remember if she had to be towed home, or finally started, or a combination, but we managed to get back.

So the week before opening day came, and as we were out decorating our blind, we were surprised by a boat load of very angry hunters, who questioned our not only our parentage but our IQ, because it turned out that the ancient rotted blind we built in front of was actually used every year…. (more on this later).  They claimed to have used this blind every year for decades, and were not to be displaced by a bunch of newcomers (who, as it turned out, were not as well armed on this decorating trip, and were threatened with a few well placed shots in our boats if we didn’t depart.  So, like gypsies, we were chased away, lifting the slightly anchored legs of our blind and moving it a couple hundred yards around the corner, to another blind that we were assured was also one of their older ones, and no problem for us to be near……. Uh huh.

OPENING DAY!!  Of course, we were there early, of course we were ready with decoys out well before the appointed hour that guns could be discharged!  The first of many hours of hot coffee and cold pop-tarts was spent in happy bliss, expecting hoards of ducks, eager for company, would find our decoys.  And then from across the bay, a boat approaches, and continues directly to us….. an angry hunter noticing that we put our blind directly in front of HIS!

I should back up.  After the threat and moving of our blind, we checked with the DNR, and got the name of the owner of that entire shoreline- a nice little old lady that knew nothing of anyone hunting on her property.  We kept her name and number handy for any further encounters we might have with unhappy shore hunters, such as we were just having.  We mentioned this to the angry gentleman we mentioned above, who assured us we did not need to call her, just a big misunderstanding.  He asked why we selected the location, we told him of our earlier gun-toting friends around the bend- he knew who they were, and suggested he would have a nice chat with them later that day….problem solved!

Except the ducks did not come- at least not any that we could hit with anything less than orbital launch capabilities.  Except for one nasty diving duck that taunted us for much of the day- never surfacing where we could actually hit him (if our code of honor would allow us to shoot a duck on the water….but we were tempted)

So, again, Hunters- 0, Pistakee Lake- 3, if you are keeping score.  By the end of that season, we further enjoyed:

·         Back Boat- a shifting issue with the previously mentioned john boat (still hazardously overloaded) forced us to back all the way across the lake, into the wind, to get home, creating ice crust that peeled off Tator’s back like a large frozen coat

·         Ticket Time!- more tickets- this time parking tickets at the boat launch, for sticking 6” into a resident’s driveway, where his winter stored boat was parked…..  Tator and Slug

·         Sunken John Boat Time!- we parked the boat at my Bro-in-Law’s channel near our hunting spot (cutting our 5 mph commute by nearly 75%), and heavy rains sunk it a couple times…..

·         Hammer Time!- Buffalo decided to use a 20 lb sledgehammer to drive in wooden stakes to hold the john boat in place at the BIL’s channel- only it slipped, and drive a 2” sliver into his finger, tearing it open from 1^st to 3^rd knuckle, and almost causing Tator to pass out as he drove the Buffalo to the ER for 12 stitches….

Sooooo, end of Duck Blind, Season 1, Pistakee Lake (and ducks)- 6, Hunters- 0

There has got to be a better way……..  or not, as we find out later.

The Mighty Mississippi

Slug and Buffalo take on the  Mighty Mississippi

Well our quest to hunt ducks was not going as well as hoped locally we decided to take the show on the road.
I (Slug) had a friend in Texas (more of an acquaintance) that would tell me stories of going home to his grandmothers house in Iowa and shooting ducks on the Mississippi. Stories of skies black with ducks. Limiting out every day.
Discounting for distance it still sounded like there were more ducks than we had seen where we had been hunting.
So being burned in the chain of lakes in Illinois I asked the following questions:
How do you get a blind, no blinds he says you just decorate your boat and hunt where ever you want. What I say, no blind registration, no one threatening to shoot holes in your boat, or burn down your blind. Nope he says just dont sit on top of anyone, plenty of water to go around. Well that sounds like heaven.

Where do I go, he names a spot south of Lacrosse Wisconsin on the Iowa side, he says hey you can even follow me to my hunting area and hunt near us.
Enough said, Im in. I call my partner in crime, the buffalo. Hey do you want to go hunt the Mississippi river, skies full of ducks, a local guide everything. He was in.

Now the big blue boat was not going to cut it, i had a 14ft Jon boat with a 6hp Johnson given to me by a friend.  About the size of this boat, but MUCH, MUCH older.




Up to now I have not mentioned the size and shape of the hunting party slug, buffalo and tater. Both slug and buffalo are engineers, that should give you a hint about our athletic prowess. Slug is well past 6 foot and over 300lb, buffalo is a smaller version. Tater is also well past 6 foot but not being an engineer he is quite thin. So we are talking about more than 500lbs in a tiny boat. I found I could get it on a plane if i was the only one inside and if i moved up to the middle seat and if i leaned just right i could get it up on a plane. Obviously, with 2 guys, decoys and equipment we moved quite slowly. But move we did and we could get anywhere given enough time.

So we put a plan all together, we designed a blind of wood and conduit and tarps, we decide that we will drive all night and sleep in the truck at the ramp. Yes I said truck, i had purchased a new chevy s10 4X4. I was black with very aggressive tires. Sadly, i went to work for a new company and they provided me with a car. It was a Ford Taurus so that wasn't really my first choice for a hunting vehicle but it was FREE and it came with FREE GAS and with FREE TIRES and FREE MAINTENANCE. Did i mention it was FREE. Well i had put quite a bit down on the Truck so at least I wasn't upside down. My brother agreed to take over the payments so this was to be the first/last duck hunting trip with my new truck.

So fall winds are blowing and its opening day of duck season. Buffalo and I pack up the truck, hook up the boat and set off for Wisconsin / Iowa. Its a bit of a hike and we had already worked a full day so we were pretty sleepy when we arrived at a lonely boat ramp in the middle of the night. We unloaded the boat and put all our gear inside and tied it to the bushes next to the ramp, we were ready. It was probably 2AM so in 3 short hours our friend and guide would show up and guide us to duck heaven.
Obviously, sleep eluded us. Two big guys in a little S10 meant no laying down, or even reclining but we subsisted on coffee and pop tarts.  Around 330AM we saw our first boat, was it our friend, nope. We watched them launch, big boat, go devil motor, decoys and a well built blind. We were in awe, they seemed to really know what they were doing. Well they launched into the darkness their motor droning steadily until they were gone.
One by one a steady parade of hunters launched their boats, checking our watches we were getting a bit nervous. He told us that it was a fair boat ride to the prime hunting area so we knew at our slow speed we needed to leave at least 2hr before hunting hours. Still no guide. Finally, we look at each other and agree he is probably not coming, he is over 1 hr late and still not there. The wheels have started to come off our plan, where will we go, we dont know where the SPOT is just that its north. So we launch, our tiny boat on the mighty Mississippi river. We chug across but all we have to see where we are going is a mag light flashlight, its pretty dark but we can make out the shores and trees in the darkness. About 15min in the motor starts to give us fits. It sputters and then runs and sputters again, our white light on the boat (the one to tell other boats that we are here) flickers and dies. We are near a path between trees and the engine starts to dig into the bottom. It dies.

So Im standing in the boat trying to get the engine started, restore the safety light and push off the bottom into deeper water. We hear a noise, kind of like a locomotive with a water noise. Being dark we have no idea, maybe it's a train nearby or some kind of boat.  Suddenly the night turns to day. A huge spotlight illuminates everything, it's in the middle of the river about 500 feet away and its sweeping the corners of the river. It's a huge barge. Now if you dont know what a river barge is let me help you


This thing is huge, i mean a football field running down the river. The train noise was the water being displaced by the front of the barge. We see it now being illuminated by the spotlight, a huge thing on top of the drive boat in the back. There are no lights on the barge portion and they only use the spotlight to check the corners in turns, otherwise its a huge floating structure chugging down the water in the complete darkness. We look at each other and realize that they could have run us over and never even known that we were there. Wow, it's a life evaluation moment.

Well having dodged death and having restored the lights and motor we agree that we are lost, no boats are coming our way but we can see them from time to time running about a 1/4 mile away, lets follow we say and we point our boat in the correct direction. We find a channel in between the islands in the river, yes islands. It turns out that huge portions of the river, primarily around bends have large areas of wetlands with trees, cattails and small rivers running through it. We are now on one of those rivers, the water nice and deep, the engine running well, the lights working we see a boat overtaking us. After a bit of rough waves as it passes we see it before us. Perfect, someone to follow. We quickly realized that these are real boats and are waaay faster than us, but there is a steady stream of them all going the same way so we figure we are on the right track.
About 1 hr of this goes by and we get to a bend in the path, we see some navigation lights on some boat blinds so we figure we are in the right spot. We start looking for somewhere to park and set up.

We see a large slack water area so we pull into it, the motor is chugging up some very stinky bottom mud but no one is hunting it (that should have been our first hint) so we anchor and set up. We get the assortment of conduit, 2X4 and tarps in place to conceal ourselves. We throw out the decoys and get ready. We settle down to await dawn and from the front of the boat I hear a faint whisper, "Hey I gotta go". I say just point it over the boat and he says not that kind. uh oh, i say can you just hang it over the side and go, now its completely dark but i can hear grunting and moving about and he works at it for awhile and says, i cant seem to get in the right position and the need is getting urgent. In frustration he checks the depth of the water and we see we are in maybe 6 inches of water, he says I'm going to put on my waders and walk over to the trees we can see about 20 years away.
Well he gets set and steps out of the boat, and sinks to his knees in really really smelly goop. I now understand why no one is hunting this area, its a swamp.
I hear cursing and splashing from the front of the boat area and then finally it goes quiet. He made it or is dead, either way i have to wait till light before i can do anything about it.

I sit their quiet, enjoying the stink of the churned up bottom with gun in hand peering out of the blind waiting for light. I hear noises again and Buffalo is making his return, so not dead at least. he gets to the front of the boat and is in much better spirits. He holds onto the sides and tries to get it, he is way too sunk into the gunk to get a leg over the side, he struggles for awhile to no avail. I'm a bit concerned at the way the boat keeps moving each time he tries, again this is not a big boat. Nothing.
Being engineers we ponder the problem, and engineer a solution. We decide to use the boat as a lever to pry him from his entrenched position in the mud. I walk to the front and get the nose of the boat almost to the water line, Buffalo heaves his torso onto the bow and i move the the back of the boat. Guess what it worked, we literally jacked him out of the mud. The smell is a bit overwhelming and now its in the boat rather than around it. But he is safe and in the boat. The struggle over we now sit there in the darkness quietly waiting for dawn and a sky full of ducks.

After about 30min we hear the tell tail sounds of duck wing beats, we are here in duck heaven, loaded guns ready to hunt. Just drop into those decoys boys and suddenly from right behind us boom, boom, boom. What the hell is that, its like they are right behind us. More boom, boom and we dont see any ducks, no cupping into the decoys, no waiting until you can see their eyes, just boom boom boom so we pull the blind open and start looking to the sky. We see a duck winging about 60 yards away and then more bang bang bang, we look at each other and there is no way this guy is going to hit a duck that high, he is just sky blasting, and he is ruining any chance of our decoys bring in some ducks.

We rip the blind off the mounts and push it off the boat and stand up to get a better view, maybe we can get lucky. In desperation we also take a few pot shots at some high flyers, but to no avail.
Now light we can see where we parked, we are in a 1 foot deep slack water area about 100 years across. The main channel is right behind us, this is where the hunters who know where they are going are positioned. Buffalo says he is going to jump in and look around, already being covered in muck there is nothing to lose. He stomps around out of sight for about 30 min and returns to the boat. We are in the wrong spot,

What do we do? Just sit, move, what? We are without sleep for 24hrs, living on coffee and pop tarts so not the best decision makers at the time. I say let's move, it stinks here and we are not going to get any shots in anyway. So we recover our now trashed blind and pick up our decoys and lever Buffalo back into the boat and head out. Now that its light we can see clearly, it really is a hunters paradise, miles of land anyone can hunt. No blind registration, plenty of ducks not that we can shoot any so we motor around for another 2 hrs looking for a place to hunt. We get out and walk some islands but they are covered with trees, ducks dont sit in trees like turkeys so this is not getting us closer to hunt able land. We see some of the real boats pulling up decoys and returning to the ramp for breakfast. These boats are awesome, they can even run over dry land if they get a running start. We are definitely two fools in a boat compared to these guys.

Exhausted, we decide to motor back to the ramp, the boat is filthy so we decide to take it to a carwash. Now I had taken my truck to the hitch guy so that I could pull my boat for hunting. He advised that we get a hitch but that was a lot of money for a truck that i was giving away right after the hunt so i ask can i just get a ball for my bumper. He shows me a piece of iron on the wall, its the hitch from a boat trailer. he says that is from a guy who asked the same question and when he had jackknifed his trailer because he used the bumper hitch be returned for both a frame hitch and a new boat trailer to replace the bent one on the wall. Undeterred i say thank you for the warning but Ill stay with just the ball.
The wheels are about to come completely off on this hunt
I pull into the car wash, you know the kind with the wand that you put quarters in. Normally you pull through these but as i pull in i realize that there is a wall at the back of the stall, the hose will definitely not reach the boat. Id better back in. So I put the truck into reverse and back up and then guess what, crunch.
Loud profanities spew from Slug, shit shit shit I get out of the boat. No i did not bend the trailer i put a nice dent into the side of the truck I'm about to give to my brother. Im livid, tired, pissed because i had been warned that exactly this would happen, mad that the guide didn't show up, mad that the hunter behind us was skyblasting, mad that my boat smelled like sewage pretty much just mad at myself and the world.
In frustration i slapped the troublesome light completely off the back of the boat into the weeds nearby.

I pull the boat carefully out of the spot and without a single word in a 5 hr drive (that is a miracle in itself as I never shut up) I drop off buffalo and drive home.

I arrive home, park the truck in front of the house and go inside, my wife, surprised to see me home early asks how was hunting?

Don't ask, and I went to bed.

So it doesn't end on a sour note, After a good nights sleep I pushed out most of the dent from the truck, got a hitch for the Ford Taurus company car, delivered the truck to my brother who said dont worry about the dent, talked to our "guide" who had overslept, got out late and only killed 2 ducks that day who gave me pointers on where to go next time.
We went on many subsequent hunting trips to the Mississippi river area, abandoned the blind / decoy idea and hunted pass by shooting and killed many ducks. There are many other stories but none so memorable as the first time we hunted the Mississippi river.