Ithaca Road Blocker

50 years ago, my dad and I went to a father-son dove shoot one afternoon. Everyone was strung out along the side of a long, narrow cornfield, and down at one end of the line the property owner stationed himself with a gorgeous old 10 ga. Purdey double. That day the birds were mostly coming in on the western end of the field, and the man with the big gun was on the eastern end. I can still recall birds flying the gauntlet, bam-bam-bam-bam-bam(no feathers, the bird getting higher and higher). Then, BOOOOOM!, and an explosion of feathers and the bird plummeting down from what seemed like a mile high. Both gun and shooter were pretty awe-inspiring!
 
I had a buddy that showed up for a morning hunt in one of our big beaver ponds. Brought an SP10. At first light,a big flight of wood ducks came in. He shot ONCE and FIVE woodies fell! At the time,the limit was TWO! Might be one reason not to adopt is as your go-to gun. Just sayin'.
f.t.

After I got the bbl and chokes back I took it duck hunting. I was a little late. There was an abandoned RR line that went out into the lake a half a mile. Walk to the end and stand in the saplings for great shooting.

I'm hustling along and a mallard hen jumped up below me. Classic going away shot. I think I had BB's in for geese.

At maybe 15 yards the steel full choke put all shot around her vent and took all but the wings, back, neck and head with the shot.

My old Lab jumped in and brought the "wings" to me. He did not deliver to hand, he dropped her at my feet, gave me the disgusted lab look and started walking without me.

He had that look when I missed a Duck. He was hard to live up too.

Once when Quail hunting with my Browning M12 in 28 gauge I did the same to a young quail. The bird disappeared, wings only floated down. He retrieved it and dropped it on my feet. Gave me that what the heck look then too.

I learned to not take close shots with the Mag 10.

Just remembered a duck shot. It was one of the cloudy overcast days. You could almost reach up and touch the grey overhead. Ducks were dropping and hitting the marsh immediately. One bunch dropped thru the overcast and headed directly towards me at about 6 foot high. I touched a load of #2 at the greenhead in front. Like the teal it rained Mallards behind the leader. The limit was 2 males and one female then. I picked up 2 males and a hen and left. Broke my heart to see 3 or 4 more laying there.

It was on state land, game wardens monitored it, they loved to pat you down when you got to the parking lot.

Several times I killed 2 Tom Turkeys with one shot. The last time a jake ran into the kill zone just as I shot the big Tom. In MO you could bag a turkey the 1 week and a 2nd one in the 2nd week back then. I killed it on a Sunday, last day of week 1.

I called the game warden and asked if I could just tag it, again on state land and this warden lived there. I said I hate to see it go to waste. He said it won't go to waste, coyotes have to eat too.
 
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Jimmy's Only Duck Hunting Experience:
1966 Cherry Valley Arkansas - My host invited me to "Duck Hunt" which I had never done as I am not a hunter. Very early the next morning we went to a "Hunt Cabin", downed a lot of coffee , and I was given a pair of rubber "Waders" (?) to put on (!). Then the hunt party waded though waist high ice cold rice paddy water to the hunt spot. I was stationed at a "Newby Position" and told "DO NOT LOOK UP AS THE WHITE FACE WILL SCARE OFF THE DUCKS" (?) One of the party (world champion duck caller) started the "HONK, HONK" call which brought in a flock of ducks. As the flock came down the firing started. I shot four ducks with three rounds, quickly reloaded and shot two more as the flock was leaving. Then the last duck came over a tree and shot him though the tree top. Then I noticed that all the other hunters were staring at me in surprised looks. Then my host explained that the daily limit was two ducks and I had killed seven in as many seconds !! WELL, hunting was over for the morning as I had killed my limit plus the limit of three other hunters. This was ok with me as I had a leak in my borrowed waders, plus I had to urinate big time. Back at the cabin everyone wanted to see that Browning shotgun that could be fired and reloaded so quickly.
 
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Jimmy's Only Duck Hunting Experience:
1966 Cherry Valley Arkansas - My host invited me to "Duck Hunt" which I had never done as I am not a hunter. Very early the next morning we went to a "Hunt Cabin", downed a lot of coffee , and I was given a pair of rubber "Waders" (?) to put on (!). Then the hunt party waded though waist high ice cold rice paddy water to the hunt spot. I was stationed at a "Newby Position" and told "DO NOT LOOK UP AS THE WHITE FACE WILL SCARE OFF THE DUCKS" (?) One of the party (world champion duck caller) started the "HONK, HONK" call which brought in a flock of ducks. As the flock came down the firing started. I shot four ducks with three rounds, quickly reloaded and shot two more as the flock was leaving. Then the last duck came over a tree and shot him though the tree top. Then I noticed that all the other hunters were staring at me in surprised looks. Then my host explained that the daily limit was two ducks and I had killed seven in as many seconds !! WELL, hunting was over for the morning as I had killed my limit plus the limit of three other hunters. This was ok with me as I had a leak in my borrowed waders, plus I had to urinate big time. Back at the cabin everyone wanted to see that Browning shotgun that could be fired and reloaded so quickly.

Jimmy you missed your true calling, illegal duck market hunter. In 2 days you could have bagged enough ducks to feed half of Arkansas.

I know a little about illegal duck market hunters, My maternal grandmothers father was one. Spring and fall he kept folks in ducks and the feathers were sold bulk or made into comforters or pillows and sold or used. The comforters were very warm, I slept under some in the winter that Grandma still had in the old farm house.

I think some things are in the DNA, I was never an outlaw hunter but did like duck hunting. Several years I worked evenings and duck hunted every day of the season minus on day after i bagged my 2 deer. Mom started calling me uncle Bill. I asked, whose uncle Bill? She said her Grandpa, why do you call him uncle Bill, she said every one did, even his own kids, who were outlaw hunters.

Jimmy if you have an Uncle Bill in your family tree you may be the go to Duck guy.....
 
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Jimmy you missed your true calling, illegal duck market hunter. In 2 days you could have bagged enough ducks to feed half of Arkansas.

I know a little about illegal duck market hunters, My maternal grandmothers father was one. Spring and fall he kept folks in ducks and the feathers were sold bulk or made into comforters or pillows and sold or used. The comforters were very warm, I slept under some in the winter that Grandma still had in the old farm house.

I think some things are in the DNA, I was never an outlaw hunter but did like duck hunting. Several years I worked evenings and duck hunted every day of the season minus on day after i bagged my 2 deer. Mom started calling me uncle Bill. I asked, whose uncle Bill? She said her Grandpa, why do you call him uncle Bill, she said every one did, even his own kids, who were outlaw hunters.

Jimmy if you have an Uncle Bill in your family tree you may be the go to Duck guy.....

Back at the "Hunt Cabin" there was a open barn that had a power driven large rubber wheel with spokes. The hunters cleaned the ducks by holding the ducks up against the wheel which took off the feathers real quick.
 
Practical experience of not standing in front of the door: Second day on the job got myself shot by standing in front of a "Well Being Check" of a alcoholic gentleman= LESSON LEARNED !


Dang, that's truly, a baptism by fire.


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There was a fellow in my old hunt club who had a 10 that he used for deer hunting with buckshot. When asked about the recoil, he nodded and said "Yea, it kicks...but you don't have to shoot but once."

Speaking of illegal hunters. There was this old boy in the club who was a reformed deer poacher. He had two sons who had assisted him in former pastime. (This was a LONG time ago you understand.)

When I killed my first deer, his younger son was driving the dogs, and moseyed up to my stand not long after I shot. The deer was laying at my feet. He looked at me and asked, "Have you ever gutted one?" I told him I never had, and asked "Have you?" He winked at me, while drawing his knife..."I can do this in the back of a pickup...at 50 MPH...in the dark."

Even as naive as I was at the time, I had to laugh out loud.
 
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There was a fellow in my old hunt club who had a 10 that he used for deer hunting with buckshot. When asked about the recoil, he nodded and said "Yea, it kicks...but you don't have to shoot but once."

Speaking of illegal hunters. There was this old boy in the club who was a reformed deer poacher. He had two sons who had assisted him in former pastime. (This was a LONG time ago you understand.)

When I killed my first deer, his younger son was driving the dogs, and moseyed up to my stand not long after I shot. The deer was laying at my feet. He looked at me and asked, "Have you ever gutted one?" I told him I never had, and asked "Have you?" He winked at me, while drawing his knife..."I can do this in the back of a pickup...at 50 MPH...in the dark."

Even as naive as I was at the time, I had to laugh out loud.

Cajun, you may have met my maternal side family.

Dogs which are not legal there, gut one in your sleep and skin one laying one the ground in under 5 minutes the only reason to gut it is to get the tenderloin which is small but tasty, do one side roll it over and cut off all edible, bag it and cover the remains with brush. Leave no tracks. Use July hounds cause they don't bark much or loudly, shoot once and do it all again soon. Early AM, drive by the game wardens house and if he's home deer season just opened.

I always preferred the guys with white hats in the westerns, fellas who tried to do the right thing. My late mothers family did not believe game laws applied to them.

When I was young I was exposed to this, I did not like it and made my own way in the woods, legally. I found hunting and fishing was much more enjoyable if one did not have to keep one eye looking over your shoulder for the rabbit sheriff.

All my uncles and great uncles are now gone. A couple of their spawn still "squirrel hunt" with a 22, large garbage bag and a sharp knife.

They were well known as game scofflaws, three game wardens swore to catch them in the act, all retired not meeting that goal.

One warden, by the way MO Game Wardens also have the same exact training and power of a Highway Patrolman, was a friend, once there was a jail break convicted folks were gonna leave, i had the dispatcher yell for all help.

Single handed, boosted by an adrenaline surge I went in sort of like a pseudo Texas Ranger, one jail break one MO Deputy.

The big bad boy was convicted of murder and was waiting for a cell to open in the old big house at Jefferson City, Mo. He was large mean and what used to be referred to as a handful.

I dropped my Python in the drop box and met them at the door to the cells. Too soon the fun was over. I had this 6'2" fella by the neck and was holding him about 6"s off the floor splaining things to him, I was just holding him up and shaking him. I set him down, purple face and all, told him to get to his cell.

I turned to look at one prisoner who was still unconscious on the floor, he was at the door when I opened it, I decided to not shoot but hit that messenger with my right.


Right behind me was my game warden friend. He was ready for duty but it was all over. He looked it all over and said you didn't need any help. Well heck before it started I sure thought I might.

He was one fine individual. The sheriff, hypo and the warden knew who I was related to. It was a small town, my Mom was related to half the people in the county and knew the other half. My Dad was from Iowa and did not participate, maybe this is where I got my morals.

One or two off the cousins were into other illegal activities, the sheriff and hypo let me off the hook on those raids.

One hypo was a neighbor and friend, he was slightly older. He taught me reloading basics. He would kid me about the scofflaws. Once he said we just raided your uncle X's farm were his worthless drug dealing son had hired bands and was staging an unlicensed mini woodstock. And it was just so he could sell drugs and beer to minors.

I do not often discuss this, I have lots of cousins there. I don't go back often. I converse with 2 nice girl cousins and one gent who is exactly 5 months younger than me. We grew up and both left the area. My job moved me and him, well it was for his hobby, bar room fighting. There are lots more bars in KC....

The jail break was not as bad as when I was young, underage drinking in a bar with my cousin, back to back we could whip the whole joint.


I went of to college and he to KC. We still visit when we can. No beer and no bar. Age will do that to you.

Maybe I need to open a scofflaw thread. Might cleanse a few long harbored bad family memories.
 

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