For Minnesota duck hunters North Dakota is akin to Mecca. A place that must be visited just to keep the faith alive. And having just returned from a three-day hunt there I can attest to the relative health of the North American waterfowl population.
Ducks still swirl into harvested wheat fields like the vortex of a tornado. Rope-necked pintails still dive into decoy spreads on cupped wings. And bull redhead drakes still skim across the waves stunning you with their beauty.
Winter-like conditions made for laborious duck hunting. Most small sloughs were capped with ice. The few that still had open water were crowded with ducks. Higher than expected water levels tested even the best chest waders. Driving down section roads, with the snow, was out of the question.
My son Jon and I spent the first afternoon scouting for the right place. One with solid ground near the edge of open water to plunk down our buckets and young Labrador in relative comfort. I'm too old to stand in waste-deep thirty-five degree water for hours. And I certainly wouldn't ask my Lab, Doc, to do that.
Due to the drought of the last two years in north central North Dakota, the sloughs are grown up in food and cattails. Wading to set decoys is like walking down a flooded sidewalk. No boot-sucking mud.
We had no problem shooting limits of ducks amid an ever-present chorus of sand-hill-crane calling. Canada geese were everywhere. And we even saw a few flocks of snows and blues. The only thing conspicuous by their absence were hunters. We heard very few distant shots during our three days afield.
If you can afford the time and money I heartily recommend a North Dakota duck hunt. Your faith will be renewed.