Good to back on the Monocacy river
Man, it felt good to be sitting in the canoe and have my old ash paddle in hand. Due to surgery and illness my waterfowl hunting season has been a total bust. Here it was late in the season with only a few days left and I was getting the canoe wet for the first time.
Through updating my LinkedIn account, Rick contacted me asking how my duck hunting season had been going. Several messages later, we planned a hunt together for Saturday morning.
The section of the Monocacy we planned to hunt, I had only fished prior, but knew the small cuts and islands looked “ducky”. I only hoped we could park along the river bank without breaking any traffic laws or trespass on someone’s property. The view from Google Earth looked promising, but as I explained to Rick, we would not know until we arrived in the dark early Saturday morning.
We had not scouted the area and did not know if there was any ducks in the area. We did not know if we would be able to park along the roadside at the river. The river was up and we would have to paddle a few hundred yards against the current back to the trucks. Yep, it was turning out to be another Augie’s Adventures. Rick had not hunted with me enough to know what he was possibly getting into.
All I knew was the surgery scars were healing well. The medications seemed to be working. While I still had a nagging cough, I appeared to be getting better and was ready for a duck hunt.
All healed and ready to hunt
Ten minutes before our agreed meeting time, I crossed the bridge and scouted for a location to drop the canoe into the water. Google Earth proved correct and there was enough shoulder to fully pull the trucks off the road. The best surprise was the absents of “No Parking” signs. We were in the clear.
Rick also arrived early. In the predawn darkness we surveyed the rushing water of the river before unloading our gear. Because of his having to leave early, or maybe he in fact had heard about my history of mishaps, Rick had brought his own kayak and would not be sharing the canoe with me.
With my treasured river decoy spread consisting of handmade cork black ducks and wood ducks mixed with a dozen and half of Drop Zone mallards loaded into the bow of the canoe, I took to the seat of my Olde Towne canoe into the unknown. The cold January air awoke my soul. The worn smooth handle of my ash paddle felt like an old almost forgotten friend. The canoe responded to my paddle strokes as if we had done this just yesterday. It had been way too long since my last time on the river in the winter darkness. The trueness of the possible danger inherent with canoeing in the dark on a log and rock filled fast running river in subfreezing weather does one of two things to a person: You either think it is crazy and avoid it, or your soul is awakened.
Just a short distance down river, the main river channel split into two separate directions. The small islands between the channels were littered with logs from past floods. Past rains and melting snows had once turned her into a raging monster. Hundred year old sycamore trees laid twisted and intertwined. Debris lodged in the still standing trees hung fifteen feet high over our heads. Hard to believe that this friendly meandering river with its hypnotic flow of this morning is the same Monocacy River scaring the landscape with her raging flood waters.
The convergence of a small cut between two islands and the smaller of the two river channels held a ducky feel. The eddies of swirling backwater and shallow sand bar was just what I had envisioned for our morning duck hunt. Now, I just hoped the ducks of the area felt the same. Carroll County Maryland is not exactly known for its’ duck hunting. The locals are deer hunters. Duck hunters travel to the marshes of Maryland’s world renowned Eastern Shore. A few ducks do spend winters on these rivers and with proper scouting a waterfowler can find enough action to satisfy the duck hunting itch. Scouting we had none of, this was a blind hunt.
Decoys set. Ready to hunt.
Our simple hide for the morning duck hunt
With twenty minutes until legal shooting time, we had the decoys floating, boats hid, and the makeshift blind on the island bank ready. Here we sat and enjoyed the morning’s arrival. I must confess these minutes before shooting time could be my favorite; a time to talk with your hunting partner, either remembering old hunts with a long time partner or like this morning forming a new friendship with a new partner.
Shooting time arrived with loaded guns. On cue two black ducks turned up river, flew in our direction, locked wings and dropped into the decoy spread. A movie script could not have been written more perfectly. With two drake black ducks hovering over the decoys, I said the two favorite words to any waterfowler, “Take’m”. Ok, so it should be two words.
Rick returns my first black duck of the morning.
My first shot missed. The second found its mark and the black duck fell into the flowing river. Rick watching the action mesmerized did not fire a shot. As he was paddling the more agile kayak, Rick was the designated duck chaser. I kept mark on the floating duck. He uncovered his kayak and quickly paddled down river for the retrieve.
Life is filled with uncertainty. Those things we count on, our anchors of life, can easy be swept away. I watched as Rick brought back my first duck of the season. A few seasons ago, I took to the waters and fields hunting waterfowl no less than 20 days. Here it was a week before duck season was to end and I was about to lay my hands on my first duck of the season. Yes, life can change in directions we cannot foresee or predict.
The last two years have been filled with life changing turmoil. But as I laid my hands on the drake black duck on an unscouted duck hunt on a river not known for duck hunting, I came to realize not all change is bad, and doing things different than the rest can have their own special rewards. A personal true to yourself reward.
Before the hunt was over, I collected two more ducks adding to the first black duck of the morning.
