Game Fair greenhorn: Hitting a flying target proves easier than quacking like a duck

Who knew that honking like a duck would be so much harder than shooting a small clay target dead-on?

To say that I am not a hunter would be an understatement. Recreational hunting is basically unheard of in Hong Kong, where I grew up.

Last weekend, the Minnesota Game Fair opened up a new world of outdoor sports for me. With guidance from a longtime duck call shop owner and an all-American trapshooter, I learned the basics of duck calling and shooting.

The fair, which continues Friday through Sunday in Ramsey, hosts dog competitions, free shotgun clinics for women, trickshooting shows, and booths selling outdoor gadgets, cars and gear.

My takeaway? When I have the chance to hunt in the true Minnesota wilderness, waterfowl might not be gullible enough to heed my calls.

But if a duck does waddle near me, there’s a non-zero chance I’ll be having it for dinner.

I’ve always thought that quacks were fairly simple noises for humans to imitate.

Mike Stelzner, founder of duck call shop C&S Custom Calls, showed me how to wrap my hands around the pipe-shaped instrument and blow into it without puffing my cheeks.

Mastering the rhythm of a call is crucial, he said. Birds are attracted to different paces, but the most common duck call goes “long, short short short.”

My quack wobbled up and down, nothing like a real duck’s. Only a fainting duck would ever quack like that, I thought.

Stelzner demonstrated his imitation of a “feed chuckle,” which birds use when they are content on the water — a rapid-fire “tikatikatikatikatika,” generated by fluttering the tongue back and forth. I didn’t attempt it myself.

Like any other instrument, duck and goose calls require practice and watching other people do it, Stelzner said.

Each year, around 40 people participate in the Game Fair’s state duck calling championship, where the winner earns a spot at the world championship — held in Stuttgart, Ark., this year.

One would assume I had better questions to ask Nora Ross, trapshooting All-American and first woman to win a major trapshooting championship, when I met her for a shooting lesson at the fair.

As someone who’s never touched a gun in my life, I had these questions: What were the bright orange discs sitting on the field? (The targets I would be shooting at.) What’s the difference between trap and skeet? (Which way the targets move.)

Adopting the correct shooting stance with my 12-gauge shotgun felt a little more ridiculous than I expected, based solely on watching the John Wick movies.

Ross patiently guided me through the steps: Lean forward so that your shoulders are always in front of your butt. Stick your neck out like a chicken. Smush your right cheek against the gunstock so you don’t get caught by the kickback.

My next three shots all hit below the target.

Ross’ tip: instead of lifting my head slightly to follow the target as it launched, keep my cheek glued tightly to the gun.

I shook my arms out and prepared for one more shot. Deep breath, wide stance, right eye perfectly aligned with the beads on the barrel.

Bang! The clay target shattered into tiny shards. A cloud of smoke billowed in its wake.

“Right on!” Ross exclaimed.