These Quotes Will Not Be Uttered at Your Local WMA
Public-property waterfowl openers evoke many images, including those with lots of birds … and lots of hunters. The situation is ripe for exchanges and conversation.
But let's agree there are some comments you'll never hear during a public opener. Here are a few tongue-in-cheek examples.
Gosh, those guys at the landing seemed level-headed. I really think folks will let the ducks work today.
Ah, how delightful. Seeing boats and headlamps every 75 yards fills me with optimism for the future of hunting.
Hey, I absolutely understand your need for a 40-hp mud motor. That 200-yard trip to the landing can be exhausting. Besides, how else would you flush every duck and goose in the marsh at 5 a.m.?
Boy, those fellas on the point were certainly friendly. I'm continually amazed at the fraternal spirit among waterfowlers. However, they might want to work on their waving gestures, and I'm not sure their helpful suggestion is anatomically possible.
No, no, I insist, come right over. I got here at midnight to make it easier for folks like you to set up on top of me a half-hour before shooting light. That's socially acceptable protocol in duck hunting. Care for some breakfast?
Excuse me, sir, you're only 50 yards away. Would you like to move closer to ensure we'll be shooting at the same ducks? Oh, and please feel free to ground-pound my new decoys, too.
Psst. Hey buddy. What kind of face paint do you use? I've been meaning to incorporate more of a Peter Criss look into my repertoire. My Instagram followers have demanded that I up the cool factor.
Well, I guess those folks have watches that are more accurate than mine. And here I thought it was 15 minutes before legal shooting. Might as well join in. I've found that flailing away at shadowy images in the dark is highly productive, and I'm certain the warden won't mind.
Man, that hunter is having a great day. Three wing-tipped hen mallards already, and no attempt to retrieve any of them. Good for him.
You know, I see your logic. By wading up to that dead duck and pointing at it, and encouraging your untrained retriever 50 consecutive times to get the birdie, you'll ultimately find success. I can see your summer training regimen paying off, bud.
That's it, champ, that's it. Keep pounding those mallard hail calls at those wood ducks. I think they might really respond on the next pass.
Sigh. I stink at estimating ranges. Could have sworn the goose those fine fellows just crippled was 80 yards up, not 40. And yes, I agree, don't bother sending the dog on it.
Ha! A spirited shouting match between friendly hunters. I can feel the love today. And that man is a walking thesaurus.
No, I think the action will pick up when the mercury hits 80. Plus, I'm sure our dead ducks won't spoil, and it's good for the dog, too.
Well, I suppose. I cannot wait to mingle with my waterfowling brethren at the landing and exchange good-natured success stories. Camaraderie abounds.
What a relaxing day. This is what I dreamt about all summer. I am definitely not scouting for new, more secluded spots next season. Cannot wait to return.