Long Shadow Limits

             Long shadows either mean a late night or an early morning. For most waterfowl hunters, it’s an early morning, and usually a good early morning at that. When you’re walking back to the truck with a limit of ducks, your shadow longer than you are tall, there’s not much more you could’ve asked for.

            As a young and somewhat uneducated duck hunter, long shadow limits weren’t really something I was familiar with—especially hunting the hit-or-miss small lakes and rivers of forested Northern Wisconsin. Thankfully, I’ve been able to experience the astonishing avian abundance of the prairie pothole region. Something all duck lovers should see once in a lifetime.

            Perhaps other long shadow limit days are perfectly executed to the plan each hunter makes for the morning. But not mine. Mine took a round-about way from the moment my dad and I left the truck with our headlamps lighting up the star-filled prairie sky.

            Typically, our mornings begin with unstrapping the canoe for a paddle to the ideal pond spot. This pond was small though, small enough to not need the canoe. So, we parked, started to walk through the farmer’s field, and attempted to navigate using aerial imagery maps on my phone. This navigation proved tricky as the pond we were hunting was flooded and therefore different in shape than what the aerial imagery showed.

            Let’s just say we went right/through the middle, instead of left/around the tangled mess of flooded cattails. As we tromped through the middle of the pothole, stopping what seemed like every ten steps to catch our breath, we were kicking up greenheads just as often. Two chairs, two blind bags, two guns, and half a dozen decoys might not seem like much, but sloshing through the marsh with that much stuff makes cattails seem like the strongest force on the planet as they catch sling straps and chair legs.

            Undecided on a spot and exhausted from wondrously wading, we plopped down in a spot facing south so the sun wouldn’t blind us as it rose. This pond was flooded enough that I sat in my chair, on my blind bag, gun case, and mesh decoy bag, and was still sitting in water. But I guess ducks like water.

            Whistling wings were buzzing overhead and splashdowns were sounding in the decoys as first light approached. After a seemingly disastrous start, hopes were high when shooting time inched closer. Those hopes did not disappoint. The next hour was filled with flocks and flocks of ducks; mallards at first, followed by gadwalls and pintails, and even more greenheads after that.

            Hunting without my camera rarely happens, but with no dog (my usual subject) and a hunt that was likely to prove more wet and electronically risky than others, I left it in the truck. Maybe that’s the key to guaranteeing long shadow limits.