By: Alex Culp; Lynch Mob Calls Elite Pro Staff
The forecast called for heavy snow fall over night. Multiple inches in accumulation and a strong east wind. Most of the general population would groan, but for a waterfowl hunter, it is go time. Some of my hunting crew and I were in North Dakota for a 4-day stretch of hunting. The hunting had been fantastic for the first 2 days. An early cold snap had concentrated a large number of ducks and geese onto one large lake in the area and we had timed our trip just right.
It was the morning of day 3, and the forecast was more than accurate. A winter wind had brought blankets of drifting snow, and it was still coming down. We were headed to a small strip of combined corn located roughly a mile from the roost. While scouting the evening before, we had seen tornadoes of mallards and geese spiraling their way in for a meal. Although the snow was piling up, we were able to pull trucks and trailers down an adjacent bean field and walk 10 yards into the corn stubble to set up.
Blinds were dug into a 2-foot-deep snow drift and decoys were deployed. We set a black hole of mallard and canada fullbodies, a few mojos in the pocket, and prepared for the show to begin. Soon after settling in, large groups of mallards poured out over the field.
The ducks appeared in waves, emerging from the icy white sky like ghosts, all eager to feed. The ducks worked in perfectly, fighting their way through the wind and locking in to my screaming duck call. Shotguns barked and greenheads fell. This mallard magic continued on repeat. After a while, a small bunch of Widgeon worked into the spread. “Widgeon! Get all 4!!” I yelled, as the birds hovered over the mojos. Four bonus ducks fell as desired.
The geese starting flying and we happily laid into a few decoying groups of canadas and snows; coaxed in with excited clucks and moans from the goose call. It wasn’t long before we all knew it was going to be one of those days. We decided to slow down on the mallards; taking turns picking off one drake out of each decoying flock. We savored the moments, and savored the senses. The smell of gun powder burning. The frozen wind whipping at our backs. The sights of hundreds of spinning ducks, locking their wings and dropping in on us. The sounds of waterfowl chaos and the hails and clucks of our Lynch Mob Calls answering back.
Before we knew it we had harvested our limit of mallards, an extra widgeon a piece, and a few handfuls of geese. We shared some laughs in the blinds as we watched the ducks continue to come to our spread, almost as if in attack mode. After harvesting a few more geese we decided to pull out and let the ducks have the field.
Good friends, clouds of birds, and true duck and goose whackin’ weather is just hard to beat. A perfect mix of conditions. It was a hunt to remember.