Waterfowl mood rewardedOpening-day vigil pays off in quest for wood ducksby Paul Smith, Outdoors Editor, JSOnlinePosted: Oct. 10, 2009
Kewaskum - We hunkered among fallen oak trees and tall grass at the water's edge, looking up through a kaleidoscope of autumn foliage.
The sky hung low, a gray, cotton blanket that would surely drip if we could wring it in our hands.
And the shoreline was peppered with acorns, a banquet courtesy of Mother Nature.
When the curtain rose on the 2009 duck season Oct. 3 in the Kettle Moraine region, the stage was well set.
In a word, the conditions were "ducky."
"The best opening-day forecast in 10 years," proclaimed a pre-hunt message from Dan Asmus, leader of our expedition.
Predictions create expectations, results write the record. We were eager to see how close the two would match.
Our group included Asmus of Hubertus and his chocolate Labrador retriever, Norm; Michael Spaeth of South Milwaukee and his yellow Lab, Mack; Ryan Braun of Slinger and his yellow Lab, Chester; Scott Connor of Eagle; and me.
With rations for the day, a couple decoy bags, waders and rain gear, we had marched nearly a mile into a remote series of small kettles set among hardwood forests outside Kewaskum. We spread out along a 300-yard, boomerang-shaped shore about an hour before the 9 a.m. opener.
A half-hour after the opening bell, we were still waiting for the principal actors.
Clearly tortured by the empty skies, Norm circled and settled at our feet with an audible "hurrumph."
It was part release of pent-up enthusiasm, part commentary.
"Noted," said Asmus.
Here in southern Wisconsin, the duck opener in recent years has been marked by warm, sunny weather more fitting for golf or the beach.
This year, however, promised to be a horse of a different color.
Recent rain had helped replenish the water level in the ponds, marshes and depressions in southern Wisconsin.
The temperature, too, hovered around 50 degrees, more suitable for waders than shorts.
And, significantly, the duck population is in good shape. According to the Department of Natural Resources, breeding and brood-rearing habitat in southern Wisconsin was good in 2009; the 2009 Wisconsin breeding duck population estimate of 502,416 is 15% above the long-term mean.
Our forest-edge set-up was focused on a species that takes its name from the habitat: the wood duck.
Unlike other dabbling ducks that prefer open marshes and lakes and nest on the ground, woodies nest in tree cavities, or more commonly these days, in elevated nest platforms.
After breeding, they continue to roost and feed in and among tree-lined ponds, rivers and marshes.
After hanging on the edge of extinction in the early 1900s, wood ducks benefited from restrictive bag limits and an intensive nest-box building campaign, sponsored largely by conservation and hunting groups including Ducks Unlimited and the Wisconsin Waterfowl Association.
The species increased dramatically and has stabilized across North America; in Wisconsin, woodies are typically among the three most common breeding ducks, along with the mallard and the blue-winged teal.
According to the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service, Wisconsin had 113,523 wood ducks in the 2009 breeding population, down slightly from 2008 but up 51% from the long-term mean of 74,959 (1973-2008).
The drake wood duck is among the most handsome of all wildlife. And due to their habit of eating acorns, they are also tops as table-fare.
The species is doing well enough that the service increased the daily bag limit on wood ducks from two to three last year in Mississippi Flyway states. The regulation is in place this year, too.
But bag limits were purely theoretical for our group through the morning and into the early afternoon.
By their nature, openers are charged with anticipation. The months of planning and training and scouting and prognosticating are over. It's showtime.
The wait seemed most difficult for the dogs. Norm exercised his option to make a retrieve on an invisible duck at about 2 p.m.
But although we heard some distant shooting, we had yet to see a duck within range.
The most common sound was the "plop" of acorns falling around us.
The time passed with conversation and a couple of overland explorations to other potholes.
We did get visited by two oversize chipmunks, apparently the beneficiaries of the local food supply.
With scant duck action and repeated interruptions by the striped rodents, Connor and I had serious thought about changing the focus of the hunt.
The skies eventually brought more than low clouds, however, and our attention was diverted upward.
At 4:30, the duck gods cleared the woodie flights to our kettle.
The ducks dropped over the tops of the trees at speed and banked sharply toward the water in front of us.
First Asmus in the middle, then Connor and I on the north end gave the dogs some work.
Norm splashed across the mucky shallows with delight, gathering up real mouthfuls.
Spaeth and Braun, hunting a couple hundred yards away, also had steady action and quickly filled limits.
The last bird taken was a mature drake, which Connor hit and found after 15 minutes of determined searching. His ethical persistence was grandly rewarded - the bird was banded.
Banded waterfowl help hunters and biologists understand the breeding and migration habits of the birds; they are rare and valued.
The birds continued to dive in pairs and occasional groups of three to five. By 6 p.m. we had 14 in the bag, one short of our collective limits, and we called it a day.
We gathered up the decoys, unloaded our guns and hiked out in the gathering dusk.
The three Labs led the way, wagging tails and pink tongues accenting their muddy flanks.
Connor followed, his prize banded drake held carefully, destined for the taxidermist.
Patience and scouting tend to pay off. However, we did discuss the possibility of sleeping in next year.
We also have a new group rule: He who shoots the banded bird buys dinner.
Send e-mail to psmith@journalsentinel.com
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