12-13-2005, 02:26 AM
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| Senior Member   | A letter from my friend, true spirit of hunting I had the pleaseure of meeting Bob Zettler this year. We wanted to get together to hunt, but it's been a rocky season for both of us. Bob posted this on the Fuge, I asked him if I could share it here. This is what hunting is all about. My First REAL River Hunt -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- For some, it has been the worse waterfowl season. From dates, to family obligations, to illnesses, to freeze-up, to just plain opportunity lost or missed – many of us, myself included, just haven’t achieved what we planned and hoped for since the end of the last season. It can change in an instant…or…it can just plain get worse. Some call it luck, others call it wimping out, or…you fill in the blank. Whatever the case, you simply can’t harvest any if you aren’t out there. Right? Most of my waterfowling is dependent upon walk-in opportunities. I do not have a boat for my own reasons. I definitely do not belong to a club as the last experience is still costing me. I never have drawn a blind on a public waterway – Dark Cloud. I have friends but most enjoy and are limited to the same opportunities I try to enjoy so we end up in the same boat when conditions like the current ones occur. We either have no where to go, or, we are beggars in a beggars market. Well, the other day, about 11 months after I accepted a similar post on the Refuge from someone offering to take someone new out to hunt (which most of us know how that turned out…), I jumped at the chance to try my first river hunt. It was going to be down on the Kaskaskia River near the mighty Mississippi. It was either that, or sit at home, go on a pay hunt, or Christmas shop. Easy decision? Well it was for me. It was 15 degrees out and everything I could access was iced up/in. I finally got to bed and ended up getting a couple of hours sleep before heading south on semi-cleared roads. Dropped my son off at his Mom’s at 3 AM and it was near Alton when I started to wonder if I had made the right decision – what if he didn’t show up? Well, I arrived at the designated spot and there he was with the motor running. Brief introductions were made and I threw my gear into his truck and away we went. I was still on over-drive as we chatted and worked our way down to the boat ramp but I could tell this guy was the real deal. It wasn’t a set-up and he isn’t a rookie. This guy loves to hunt too and will work with others to achieve that instead of working at cross-purposes. We talked about all sorts of things and one word stood out throughout our day…but back to that later. We arrived at the boat ramp around 5:30 AM and there was only other boat and set of hunters there. We introduced ourselves and shot the Bull for a while before putting our boat in the water. Now Jim has a GATORTAIL (sorry for the second time on naming your rig incorrectly) setup (big letters to let him know I now know it’s not a Mudd Buddy or the like) and it is one fine piece of machinery. While the others had put in first, we were out before they left and got to our spot in no time. However, the inlet (or whatever) was pure ice. Did that stop Jim? No way!! SS Ice Breaker to the rescue and he was cutting through that 4 inch+ thick sheet like a knife through butter! Then, he said we were setting up off a little island on the edge and I was intrigued… We set decoys and he had his way on how to set them. Not haphazardly but a specific setup, somewhat like the routines I had observed since we arrived at the boat ramp. As usual, I was not as big a help as I had hoped and was worried about my waders – remembered they had leaked that day at Carlyle but at least I had used some Shoe Goop the night before and they stayed dry today. However, I forgot to transfer my waterproof pants and was limited to my sweat pants and the breathable waders. Not a great combination for 15 degrees and ice… Then, as Jim threw out the last decoys, my Dark Cloud shifted and Jim started to trip over a hidden stump. While it looked like a Great White had a hold of him beneath the surface, I could do nothing but watch him get wet and pray he didn’t go under – or get dragged out into the channel to be fed on by the other unseen sharks. He recovered but was wet – and cold. We finished getting the gear ready in the boat and transferred mine to the island then he took off for the ramp to get a change of clothes. Holy Cow! Did I just meet this guy and now he is leaving me on a small island in the frozen Kaskaskia!!!!!!!!!!! Is he related to…. Nope! He came back ten minutes later and all was well. I had seen several flocks of ducks fly overhead and even had two float over the decoys but my gun was still cased…Dark Cloud, remember? We talked about life, families, hunting the rivers, and all sorts of subjects. We kept low in his homemade boat blind and warm – with a little help from his heater and the coffee and hot chocolate he made! But that word kept coming up. It wasn’t being interjected purposely but seemed like a natural fit in his way of talking. Interesting… We continued to talk and watch the sky but no real opportunity presented itself. Sure, three set down just at the edge of the decoys and there was that Coot that kept looking for his friends, but we didn’t fire a shot until a pair buzzed us and I just had to shoot. Missed them like the pigeon an hour earlier. Dark Cloud rises to the occasion. We decided 11:15 AM was long enough and picked up decoys. No sharks this time. On the way back, Jim took me on a short tour and of course, in the spot he had thought about going to, there was a dozen Mallards and another three in the hidden flooded food plot. Then I spotted a cripple. A Greenhead to boot! Well, I did the only reasonable thing a bloodthirsty fellow like me would do; I jumped off the boat, uncased my gun and shot him as he rose to the surface. Was I happy or relieved we hadn’t got skunked? No, I actually felt bad but never said a word to Jim and then he used that word again –“Steward.” He had used variations all morning and now he did it once again to say we had done a service by putting the cripple down and ending his suffering. His first thought wasn’t expressed as “yeah, we got sumethin!” He was actually considering we had done a service by taking the Mallard, and you know, I thought so too now. I had felt bad for a few minutes on how we had taken this Mallard Drake as he tried to escape even though he most likely would end up some other predator’s meal, and then Jim casually mentioned we had done the right thing. This spoke miles about his inherent philosophy, and while he didn’t know it, it became the hallmark of our morning together and I felt good that I had accepted his invitation and shared time with him. No, we didn’t wack them but I did discover another good person who just so happens shares my passion for the outdoors and hunting. There is a lot more that could be said about Saturday’s hunt but I want to leave you all with that word again – “Steward” or “Stewardship.” In the wikipedia, Stewardship is defined as, “In a Christian context, stewardship refers to the responsibility that Christians have for the gifts that God has bestowed.” And as, “For example, protecting the environment through recycling, conservation, and regeneration.” I am sure Aldo Leupold and others have their own definition but I hunted with a man who believes in it and I am happy I took another chance and shared time with him… Jim, thank you! __________________
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