Opening Day for Hunting Duck: Gunsmoke & Bird Feathers
October, if you were to ask most people, brings to mind smells like rain, fallen leaves, and as my generation constantly likes to remind us, pumpkin spice.
For a couple of my closest friends and I, October will forever smell like wet neoprene, burnt gun powder, and soggy Labradors.
Best Goose and Duck Hunting: Pacific Flyway Traditions
I was fortunate to grow up a short, fifteen-minute drive from some of the best duck and goose hunting in the northern portion of the Pacific Flyway. I have since grown and moved away, but every October I make the 2 hour drive back to a familiar spot nestled between the Snake and Columbia rivers.
Check out our selection of duck decoys online here.
Our favorite pond wouldn't seem like much to the average onlooker; shaped roughly like a stretched out, upper-case W, choked with Russian olive trees blown down among cat-tails taller than most professional NBA players, and littered with trenches dug out by the beavers that call this stretch of water home.
And while it is a bit of a hike to reach, especially loaded down with shotguns, blind bags, and decoys, we anticipate opening morning of duck season like a 4-year-old waiting on Christmas.
Maintaining traditions in water fowl hunting
My last three Labradors have all hunted this pond, two of which made their first retrieves out of it. I shot my first drake mallard over a dozen beat up Carry-Lite decoys floating in the middle of it. My dad and I built fires in the snow and ice to warm our hands between flights next to it. I've lost calls, shells, decoys, gloves, hats, and one coat in or around it.
Need some new calls? We've got them here.
My best friend and his brother both experienced the rush as dozens of birds landed in our spread in the pre-dawn light; wings cupped, orange feet braced to hit the water, whistling all the way in.
We've made some incredible shots over this pond, missed more than any of us would care to admit, watched as inexperienced, adolescent pups turned into full-fledged bird dogs swimming through it.
October is a month of tradition; of red-eye drives from Spokane and Portland, toasts over greasy pizza and half warm beer, clogging hotel bathroom sinks with feathers and bits of ducks hastily cleaned before being packed in zip-lock bags and stuffed in foam ice chests loaded with ice from the closest ice machine.
These things wouldn't seem like much to anyone outside of our close knit circle, but I've been blessed to share these traditions with some of the most important people in my life and I look forward each and every fall to making our annual trip south.
Interested in camo apparel? We've got a large selection online here.