If anyone checks in here and has any reports, light us up! 😄
I don’t know how many ducks are left in MN with the recent cold snap but there has to be some. Last weekend we shot a 3 man limit in western MN. Mostly spoonies but saw 10 different species and harvested 5 of them.
I thought I had two really nice GWT teal drakes but I’m not 100% sure I should mount one. So early in the season and they still have some pin feathers.
Is that chair at the top of the pic? Why, yes it is. My buddy has a sweet set up with some old chairs I gave him.
Feet still got a little cold but it was a super easy watch over the dekes.
Tonight at home I went down to my blind for the last 20 minutes to see what might be flying. No gun. NO PHONE! 4 hooded mergansers flew by and 6 GWT settled in pretty much at my feet. The two drakes were really nice - probably nicer than the two in the pic. One coot was hanging around with them.
The no phone/no pics was probably the best duck call and deke spread ever. 🙃
I have fished this stretch for what seems forever. Two hundred yards downstream I caught my first trout at age five. I am certain that I was given one of my lessons on stream by my father on this stretch. He typically gave a "what is that" speech at least once during an outing. The lessons varied from what kind of tree or wildflower was streamside to being a good steward of the outdoors.
His lessons taught me to love the places trout lived. He held them in high regard, They were almost holy places to him. He was not a religious person. When he spoke on stream it seemed like a sermon almost. My mom required me to go to church often and my Dad's speeches seemed like they came from the pulpit. He always told me to take it all in and always respect the outdoors.
This summer I was wading up this stream. The weeds were too high to walk the bank. I took a good friend with me to my special stretch of water. I wanted to share this place with him that evoked such strong memories of my father. My dad left me over half a century ago but his spirit lives on when I am on stream.
I had a special hole that I wanted to show my friend. I was bursting with anticipation prior to getting there. My mind was replaying ancient memories almost like a slideshow. I remembered the first time there with my dad. I was five years old again. My trip to the past was abruptly terminated. Our trek had a hurdle.
It was a wow moment. There in the tiny head water of my stream of time there was an obstruction. What had caused this to happen? It had endured countless rain events, even huge floods through its lifetime. I was certain my dad and I had walked in these same tracks decades prior.
At first I was sad looking at the giant felled tree. My mind was rushing to and fro from years past. This tree was for sure older than me and it now laid across my stream. I paused and gave it the respect it deserved and pressed on to my final destination. Call it a metaphor or ramblings of an old gray trout slayer but it is a prominent memory in my book of life.
Woody seems to be a great guy and knows the lake really well from what I have followed. He used to post on here, and I would follow his summer adventures, and boy did he seem to catch fish...and BIG fish! I don't think you can go wrong using Woody!!!