When I came home way after sunset a few days back, I asked my gal Cindy Scott why I was always so beat every night. I knew the answer, but she added that if I ever stopped long enough to let my engine cool off, it might help.
The past two months were great, and the upcoming two months are going to be great, but it means a lot more nights coming home beat.
Opening Pheasant Hunting weekend starts Oct. 16, and I am hosting a ladies-only mentor hunt in my county. There will be six inexperienced female hunters partnered with six veteran lady guides
The following week my local Pheasants Forever Chapter is hosting a Veterans Appreciation hunt, with 15 veterans from all over the United States in town.
The following weekend I am helping a friend with his extended family in town with my dogs and property to let them chase roosters.
The next two weekends after that are firearms deer season and the best part of the pheasant hunting season following that.
All of this happens in the fall. I wish winter lasted three days and fall lasted six months.
There was a moment a few Saturdays ago that was different when a friend invited me to go duck hunting with him on one of his private wetlands.
I am not much of a duck hunter but I do buy a license every year, so I said sure. I was just going to sit on a bucket and see if anything would fly over my head. No duck boats, no decoys, no trailers full of gear. Just a dog and a cup of coffee.
We got there in the dark and I set up my gear, which consisted of a brown 5-gallon pail, one box of shells, one thermos and one coffee cup and my 5-year-old Labrador, Raider.
The place was just alive. I could not see anything, but the sights and sounds made me feel like I was in an IMAX theater.
Ducks were communicating, pheasants were crowing and the frogs all made for a pretty neat nature choir. Meanwhile the sun peaked over the horizon and the colors of fall came alive.
There had not been a frost yet, but the leaves on the trees were just starting their fall dance. The starting shooting hours for waterfowl in Minnesota are a half hour before sunrise.
I had my phone but never checked to see exactly what time that would be. The exit began and I had ducks flying overhead in groups of about four or five. My five of this size made their way out to feed.
It was then that the wetland eruption started. Big groups of both ducks and geese had decided it was time to go eat. There was lots of noise and the sound of wings, and in about five minutes all of the ducks had left the area I was in.
It was about 15 minutes later that I heard the sound of gunshots in the distance. My partner had bagged a duck, so I knew it was legal shooting time.
As I sat there taking in the sights and sounds, I was amazed at the number of frogs I heard and saw. I would have figured in a drought year they would have been reduced due to not enough water. This was certainly not the case.
I had my back to a small shrub, and over the course of about 90 minutes I had about a half dozen little songbirds land in that tree no more than 4-6 feet away. They seemed to be saying hello and wishing me a good morning. They would leave and a different batch would take their place.
I could not identify the species of these birds but that in no way diminished the splendor of their visit.
As the dog sat quietly beside me and I watched the steam roll off my coffee cup, I could only wonder what the folks who never get to experience a morning like this would think if they ever had the opportunity to do so.
We as a species are drawn to the outdoors, but many people get sidetracked by electronic devices or sports that include many different shaped balls. I am sure they enjoy those activities as well, but I don’t think anyone ever could or would say that an hour in the tall grass with the sights and smells of fall was not worth their time.
I never shot a duck and I never fired the gun, and still I had a very quality outing.
These are the down times between helping others get engaged in the outdoors, protecting and improving public lands, helping others train their dogs and advocating for the “up plug the device” lifestyle.
I hope I can live a while longer because there is still a lot of work to do.
Scott Rall, Worthington, is a habitat conservationist, avid hunting and fishing enthusiast and is president of Nobles County Pheasants Forever. He can be reached at scottarall@gmail.com. or on Twitter @habitat champion.