Tuesday, January 16, 2007

JEFF COUNTY LIMITS

By Mike Faulk



I wasn’t exactly optimistic when my friend, Richard Webb, invited me to hunt on the next to last day of the season. After all, it had been the warmest January on record. My trip to Reelfoot Lake two weeks before had resulted in three ducks for five hunters in two days of hunting. And northeast Tennessee hosts a mere fraction of the migrating waterfowl as the rest of the state.

Douglas Lake duck hunting has been on the decline for years in roughly inverse proportion to development around the lake. While the French Broad River bottoms haven’t developed as rapidly, cornfields and other food sources are increasing scarce. Peaking my curiosity, Richard humbly noted having his best season in Jefferson County in years.

Reporting for duty as ordered at a late 6:15 a.m., my host seemed in no great hurry to get on the road. We were waiting on his sons, Todd and Travis, and their friend, Randy. Quickly totally the number of hunters at five, I assumed and therefore asked Richard, “Where’s your blind?” “Don’t have one,” he responded. Now I was really perplexed.

Douglas Lake is surrounded by numerous small farms – most with small farm ponds ranging from a half to maybe 10 acres in size. I couldn’t fathom five of us hunting without a blind on such a small body of water. But as late as it was, I knew we had to hunt somewhere close to the Webb home in White Pine.

My lesson this fine thirty-five degree, crystal-clear January morning was in adaptability and mobility. Just as our military has adjusted to the changing geopolitical world, Richard and sons had adapted to what the good Lord and civilization had given them.

The Webbs had permission to hunt about a dozen different farm ponds. We divided in three groups and headed to the ponds closest to the lake. Each had a tiny amount of cover near the pond. These three ponds would likely be the first waterhole visited by the earliest rising birds of the morning. Any ducks missed on one pond would likely move to one of the other two ponds close by.

After the initial volley on each of the first three ponds, hunting would probably be finished for the morning on those ponds. After shots had been fired at each, we’d all head back to the trucks and move to the next series of ponds which would have corridors of cover leading to a point within shooting range of the pond. We’d jump shoot the second round of birds and wait until all three of these ponds had been shot. As Richard explained, we’d probably get at least two rounds of shooting at close ducks.

Paltry as that sounds, in retrospect, that’s all we got at Reelfoot. And while I’ve done a little more shooting than that in Arkansas in the past few years, a three day trip would rarely produce more than a couple of opportunities to shoot at ducks cupped and only twenty yards away. Mississippi flyway ducks have been shot at steadily for 2-3 months all the way from Canada.

The wall of beautiful ducks of all varieties had told me the first time I was in Richard’s home that he was an avid duck hunter and waterfowl lover. I should never have doubted him on this bluebird day destined to reach sixty degrees.

I took one long shot that morning. And, I had to shoot one bird twice because it had swum to the far side of the pond and was walking away. Four volleys of two shots each netted two mallards, two widgeons, and two gadwalls – a male and female of each – taken in about one hour with only one shot of more than thirty yards.

This story is not about me being a good shot. I’m not. It’s about flexibility and resourcefulness. It’s about all the intangibles that we receive from hunting; but, still coming away with ducks. It’s about low cost, high efficiency results.

As easy as it was, I almost felt guilty. Six ducks cost me gas money to White Pine and eight shells. It was almost like stealing. Thanking Richard as I left, I was both relieved and amused when I got to the sign. It took on a whole new meaning when I read: “Jefferson County limits”!

Wednesday, January 10, 2007

Almost Heaven:
First Snow Falls Across the Blue Ridge


Looking east from a treestand:
Faulk's Cabin and the Bays Mountain range

Academics Blogs - Blog Top Sites