ericalynne wrote:
Nice! I like the blind in the bow.
Erica, I eventually stopped hunting. I realized I was using it as an excuse go paddling at dawn. Which, even with a prepared truck and gear meant waking up a 3am, having bought a license and stamps, driving there, setting shuttle and etc. And I had mixed feelings about killing things just for some meat on the grill. Still, like fresh fish, duck breast on the grill. . . .Oh. My. God.
The non-hunting trade off was worth it. I would still set the alarm for pre-dawn and hie off to a marsh or swamp, out of season or on Sundays (no hunting on Sundays in Maryland, a restriction of some contention), and paddle in peace, with no Boom-Boom-Boom, and no DNR guys wanting to check my canoe.
The third Boom always bothered me; if you didn’t manage a clean shot with the first two rounds I know you didn’t with the third.
The DNR guys, every time I encountered them, had a regular routine. They always expressed appreciation for the camo-covers, gun rest and brush bob, but that was mostly part of their put-‘em-at ease schtick.
Friendly question, friendly question, pointed question; “So, what time did you put on?”. If the answer was before dawn they wanted to see my lights (had one). “So, did you come back to the launch for lunch?” I never did, but the next question, even with a “No” response, was “Do you mind if we have a look in your truck?”
I didn’t mind that waste of time. No cooler of morning duck limit stashed in the truck, I was always legal as a beagle, but the routine question got old after a while. The most comical was two DNR guys giving me the third degree at a marsh landing. Check my license, permits, shotgun, check my shells, check my cooler, debate the ID of a female Fulvous Tree duck for my day’s bag limit.
While I was showing them a female Fulvous in a bird book a johnboat with three guys and a retriever came flying up the river towards the launch, saw them, turned an instant 180 and sped off.
All I could say was “Uh, I think those are the guys you need to check”