The Best Was Last

Mallards and pintail galore.  Within days of Mississippi duck season’s closure  there were lots of ducks at Willow Break.  Mississippi’s post-season Youth Day provided a solid crack at them.

Not that duck season was uneventful.  It was a great season – a record-setter for Willow Break – but weird.  In the year they started naming winter’s cold fronts, repeated clippers brought ducks but not the massive waves of ducks expected; not mallards and pintails.  Not this far south. It was the day after Christmas that I saw my first flock of shovelers, colloquially referred to as “Ramzillas” for good reason, or even the first sizeable flock of green-wings.   But where there's duck hunting, there's always hope.

The great thing about RR Hole is that it’s small, shallow and only 1 minute from camp.  Never mind we’d not had a duck killed in it the entire season, or that it was warm.  Duncan and I had camp completely to ourselves so we slept until 5:30, drank extra cups of coffee, watched the early news and saddled the ATV with 7 decoys about 15 minutes before legal shooting light.

Dawn brushed the muted sky as slowly as butter melting on biscuits.  There wasn’t a duck to be seen or heard as we pitched the decoys and situated ourselves.  And then, there were.  Lots of them.

Even as flocks splashed the water about 80 yards east of our decoys, oblivious to our soft quacks, the column of ducks stretched like a busy ant column as far to the north as could be seen.  It was quickly obvious that we weren’t on the X but somewhere between S and C.  Without much paddle.  So we moved.

Then it happened.  Cooper and I sat at the base of the small willow, best seats in the house for watching the show.  Duncan stood forward, screened by chest-high coffeeweed.  Small flocks began to slide back in.  “Greenheads and drakes only,” I whispered between calls.  He nodded affirmative.

The first shot wrapped up a drake from a pair of mallards and Cooper sprung to action.  The second shot moments later cart-wheeled another that swung directly overhead looking for a not-yet-seen hen mallard in the shadows.  A trio of green-wings got a pass, but a beautiful drake gadwall was folded like a love letter.

Another greenhead was added to the pile and a big prize – a drake pintail – escaped unscathed following an exuberant 3-shot volley.  By 7 o’clock, Duncan had amassed 4 drake mallards and a gadwall. We decided to wait for a nice sprig. 
 
The lone drake peeled from a disinterested flock and slowly worked to soft peeps on a dog whistle, his loops that were as wide and graceful as a southern belle’s longhand.  Where he messed up was crossing our position only 25 yards off the deck.  We high-fived as Cooper charged the mark. 

It seemed like just yesterday that the Duncan had banged out a quick limit of mixed species during the pre-season youth day; since we’d slogged through a rain-drenched but long-awaited season opener; since a decade ago since Duncan accompanied me to that very same spot, where too young to shoot he had then watched me shoot a fast-paced limit of blue-wings during his first trip to a duck blind.

Ramsey Russell  is a certified  wildlife biologist.  He owns and operates GetDucks.com, a full-time, full-service agency specializing in world-wide trophy duck species and epic wingshooting adventures.  Exploring the world's wetlands for the best client duck hunting experiences is an occupation, but Ramsey most enjoys duck hunts in Mississippi with family and friends when time allows.  It’s always duck season somewhere.