 |
|
|
A
Day at the Sheyenne Valley Lodge The Morning Hunt
I'm sure the questions were common to them, but they were glad to answer them in full every time. We were prepared to hunt in full camouflage with the gear we brought. The guides handed out white ponchos and all white knit pullover toboggans with fleece face masks. There was no snow on the ground. This was definitely going to be different than the fully heated pit blinds along the Mississippi River or in Maryland. Walking outside and feeling the chilly air got everyone real excited and the banter turned to friendly kidding and inside jokes.  Ted
led the progression in his Suburban pulling a goose decoy laden trailer.
All eyes focused on the gravel road ahead as Ted casually drove into the
complete darkness. I was stricken by how small our world seemed in the
darkness compared to our awe of the great expanse we experienced upon
arrival yesterday afternoon. We rattled along for about 10 minutes when
Ted slowed and began studying the side of the road. It all looked the
same to us, but Ted and his partner had scouted a field where thousands
of geese were feeding just the evening before. We were going to setup
in that very spot this morning. We pulled out into a barley field that had been worked earlier in the fall. The barley that was missed by the combine, reseeded and sprouted. This turned the entire field into a green carpet. Perfect for the grazing abilities of the snow and Canadian geese in the area. It was strange to head the truck out onto, what appeared in the head lights, as a yard or golf course. The beams reached out across the field. It was huge.
Ted grabbed the first big bag of decoy heads and others followed suit.
Soon, we had all the decoy bodies piled high in the headlights. Some of us
built the decoys by mounting the heads with a quarter turn, while others
followed the guides to the perimeters of the spread, carrying as many
decoys as arms and layers of clothes would allow. The decoy shells weren't
heavy, just awkward. We put them out quickly with everyone pitching in.
The early morning exercise was welcome, as the air was chilly to any
exposed skin. We unloaded our gunning gear and thermoses from the trucks.
The guides issued a thick close cell pad for each of us to rest on. They
gave last minute assistance to position each hunter, reminding everyone of
the safety issues involved with
The basic order of events would have ducks buzz the decoys, right at the onset of shooting light. They may pour in by the hundreds. Some of them may even land in the decoys, wondering why all the goose calls and sightings seemed somehow not quite right. The geese being late risers, would come off their roosting water in small numbers and build the confidence of the flock by swirling up and then landing back on the water. This would repeat until the whole flock would rise and spread out over the land to feed. If they found the setup to be located in the right spot, without any hunters being spotted from movement or shape, they would offer up some world class shooting opportunities. Then we'd pack up and go back to the lodge for a huge breakfast and all sorts of true stories of the hunt. For the entire time of our stay, it happened pretty close to this script. I was impressed with the variety of the hunting. We setup in different fields as the birds moved from our pressure or changes in weather. When a new flock moved into the area, the guides would find out what fields they were working and we'd get a chance at them. There was no doubt that it was goose hunting and not goose shooting. The birds were still wary of hunter movement and sounds that didn't belong in the decoy spread. There was one day of our four day hunt where the weather got down right nasty, with high winds and frozen rain. The ducks and geese came to our setup with reckless abandon. It was world class hunting. Every day we saw migrating birds by the thousands. All the hype of the waterfowl come back in North America was substantiated beyond comprehension. Even the guides would make commentary of the sheer quantities of birds in flight. The breakfast after the morning hunt was literally all-you-can-eat and "no one ever even remotely went hungry." We were served heaping plates of pancakes, French toast, eggs over easy; and omelets loaded with fresh veggies. The venison sausage was a favorite with our group. We had one individual who requested in advance that his special diet be honored. It was, and he ate like a king during his stay. The next order of the day was to let the food hit bottom and relax for a couple of hours. Some cleaned guns and gear, while I caught a well deserved nap. After all, I was on vacation. The guides prepared for the afternoon hunt and took care of the morning take. Next: The Afternoon Hunt
|
I
was awakened around 5:00 a.m. by the soft groan of the stair steps of
the century old prairie farm house turned lodge. Ted Mertz, the owner
and primary guide, had come up to rap on each bedroom door and speak
softly of the need to rise and greet the new day. I dug a little deeper
into my quilt covered bed as footsteps and voices of my partners picked
up cadence. After the necessary duties of rising were taken care of, I
layered on my water fowling gear. I saved the boots and last layer for a
wrestling match after coffee and one of those homemade cinnamon rolls
Patty Mertz, Ted's mom, had just pulled from the oven. I could see that
the guides had the trucks running and were outside scraping the frost
from the truck's windows. They made sure everyone had shells and cased
guns. They gave quiet guidance to those in our group who had never
experienced field goose hunting, North Dakota style. 
The guides spoke of
a draw here, a rise there, and the positioning of the evening flock. I
was still amazed by their ability to navigate on the gravel roads in the
inky darkness, let alone picking out subtle features in this field. The
trailing truck began to swing wide and the Suburban stopped. The spot
was cross lit by headlights of the trucks forty-five degrees to each other.
We clambered out and stood waiting for orders. 
five
to six hunters sitting a few yards from each other with birds swirling all
about. We donned on our white ponchos and head coverings. They said they
would take the trucks out of the field and be back in time for the first
flights. After the trucks were out of sight I was amazed by the total
silence that fell over us. Like a flock of birds in the dark, everyone
quieted down to listen to it. It was the first time during our trip that
the prairie had such an effect on us. It would not be the last. 
 |