An Outdoorsman’s Journal: Fall waterfowl hunt on the Turtle Flambeau Flowage

This week’s column is going to go a mile a minute as there is a ton to write about. I generally hunt the northern Wisconsin duck opener on the Turtle Flambeau Flowage. I missed the opener due to the fact that my nephew Trent Schuster happened to get married to a very nice lady named Amanda Wendt. Run Amanda run!

Instead, I headed north with the pups, my War Eagle and my canoe on Monday, and though I knew the shooting would be minimal I was very excited for the trip and now had something else that I could blame on Trent.

Monday, Sept. 23High 74, low 42

Here is the plan: launch the canoe and War Eagle, travel with very happy pups to duck paradise, hunt, sleep in War Eagle Hotel and repeat the process for two more days. Folks, I was on a roll and when I got home would only have one day before I headed southwest for the southern Wisconsin opener on the Mississippi River. So, I anchor the War Eagle and load the canoe for the afternoon expedition and am a bit concerned that I have yet to see a duck. “Thanks, Trent.”

I paddle to no man’s land. There are zero waterfowl but I am doing “forced nothing,” which I really need to do. After two hours I am buzzed by a flock of teal and miss. This would be my only experience until after shooting hours. Ten minutes after shooting hours were over, I watched a hundred million mallards buzz me. Waterfowl really seem to learn when you cannot shoot at them.

Back at the War Eagle Hotel I lit a propane lantern and really enjoyed the evening. At about 10 p.m. I rolled out a tarp, put my sleeping bag in it and tried to sleep.

Tuesday, Sept. 24High 76, low 40

Sleeping did not work out so well. There were multiple problems such as I was on the floor of my boat and it was too short to lay lengthwise. There was a very heavy dew and my sleeping bag sucked up moisture at a steady rate. That and both pups demanded the best spot on the floor which was the top of my head.

So I am up and at ‘em two hours before daylight, paddle to duck paradise and am a little concerned that I am not flushing any of the millions of mallards that I saw last night. I was so careful that I didn’t even turn on my headlamp.

Daylight arrives and I do not see a single duck. “Thanks, Trent.” Two hours after daylight a goose flies over and I foolishly think it is out of range, it wasn’t. An hour later I saw a lone goose, it was at least a half-mile away. I can honestly say that because I am so horrible at calling geese that I have not tried in 15 years. I give my best attempt and the bird does a 180 and heads my way, then it turns around and leaves the zone. I decide to try again, give a honk, it does a 180, comes in with its wings set and I dumped it. Two hours later I dropped another and all was well.

At midday I tried a snooze, but it did not work, so I decided to go exploring by canoe. I find a 4-inch musky that has just died, and it has a small walleye in its mouth that I am sure was too big to digest and once again it was proven that gluttony can kill. I also observed that the water is down about 16 inches from normal and every muskrat den is above the water line. That is not good if you are a muskrat.

With three hours of daylight left I picked a pretty spot to sit and put out my decoys. I had one round of shooting and that was at a wood duck.

It seemed to have been tickled and sailed a good 300 yards and out of site. When shooting hours were over the pups and I went looking for it and by-God, Ruby found it.

Sleeping was the same as the previous night and the following morning I did not get a shot.

If you see Trent Schuster, punch him in the shoulder and tell him his Uncle Mark sent that his way!