Dennis Anderson: Past reborn for duck hunting?

Chief Seattle and George Bird Grinnell, keystones in the foundation of the American conservation movement, would have smiled had they been in Brooklyn Center on Saturday afternoon.

Theodore Roosevelt, too.

Unexpectedly, and uncharacteristically for a risk-averse agency, the Department of Natural Resources announced following a two-day whirlwind of meetings it will change course in its long-suffering attempt to return Minnesota's good old days of duck hunting.

Rather than relying only on the reclamation of the state's many turbid and carp-infested shallow lakes and other duck habitat, commissioner Mark Holsten said the agency will move toward building intensively managed water complexes along some of the state's major river corridors.

The intent will be to retain flood water and offer other environmental benefits while providing respite to ducks and shore birds during spring and fall migrations.

The course shift was unexpected by the approximately 300 invitees to the DNR's annual Stakeholders Roundtable.

The DNR's change was not planned prior to the meetings, which on Friday featured an at-times uncomfortably frank exchange of views between waterfowlers and state conservation leaders about the status of ducks in Minnesota, and what the DNR has, or has not, done in response.

As envisioned, a series of actively managed "moist soil" wetland complexes would be established. Pumps would be required, as would water-control structures. And hunting in the compounds probably would not be allowed.

Hunters would instead benefit if the compounds nurture smartweed, sego pondweed and other vegetation attractive to ducks. Raising and lowering water levels in the areas would mimic wetlands and other natural water systems as they existed pre-settlement.

One such compound already is in place near Appleton, in western Minnesota.

Missouri and other states have built similar structures and in some instances have seen duck numbers soar, Dale Humburg, a member of Ducks Unlimited in Memphis and a former Missouri state waterfowl biologist, told roundtable participants Friday.

Humburg at times held conference attendees spellbound as he recounted waterfowl successes in the Show-Me state.

Throughout the 14-state Mississippi Flyway, which includes Minnesota, Missouri is regarded as a waterfowl-management wunderkind for its development of intensively managed moist-soil complexes. Missouri's ability to hold ducks that historically have passed over the state, or stopped there only briefly, en route to more southerly wintering grounds has been well documented.

By comparison, Minnesota duck managers in recent decades have seemed stuck in neutral, or even reverse. Well intended but limited by funding shortages, and hamstrung also by the adverse effects of industrialized agriculture on the state's prairie pothole region, the agency has seemed overwhelmed by the slim prospects of its actions spurring a duck recovery.

Also unhelpful has been the DNR's aforementioned aversion to risk -- a learned behavior, in part, thanks to decades-long meddling in state conservation by legislators and other politicians.

Yet even as Minnesota duck numbers have tumbled, most state waterfowlers have grown more passionate and determined in their demands for action.

Born in watery lands, Minnesotans seek ducks and geese in greater proportion to their population than residents of any other state. And nowhere is the tradition of duck hunting more tightly woven into the culture. Camouflaged john boats, Labrador retrieving dogs, wildlife paintings and early risings on October mornings are so common in Minnesota that duck shortages here are considered by many less a resource loss than a painful void in the state's soul.

Randy Stark of the National Conservation Leadership Institute recalled Seattle's words Saturday at the roundtable's conclusion. Stark recollected also the words of George Bird Grinnell (1849-1938), editor of "Forest and Stream," a hunting magazine that lobbied for conservation, and founder of the Audubon Society and Boone and Crockett, an organization of big game hunters.

"The conquering of difficulties," Grinnell said, "is one of the great joys of life."

Shortly after Stark's presentation, Holsten, Schad and other DNR wildlife officials announced to reporters their intention to take Minnesota duck management in a new, and additional, direction.

Obstacles will be many. Holsten could be replaced as DNR chief when a new governor takes office next year. Funds and DNR staff are short. And legislative interference is guaranteed because Minnesota has not yet shod itself of its antiquated conservation system, one in which resource professionals who stray too far in their efforts to save ducks and wetlands risk being cut off at the knees by politicos and their lobbyist conspirators.

"Man does not weave this web of life," Seattle said. "He is merely a strand of it. Whatever he does to it, he does to himself."

"Our duty to the whole, including the unborn generations," Roosevelt said, "bids us restrain an unprincipled present-day minority from wasting the heritage of these unborn generations. The movement for the conservation of wildlife and the larger movement for the conservation of all our natural resources are essentially democratic in spirit, purpose, and method."

Credit, then, Holsten, Schad and DNR wildlife section chief Dennis Simon, among others in the agency, for acting on Saturday. Nothing may come of their bold idea. But something might.

Hope stirs. The conquering of a great difficulty might not be at hand.

But it is begun.