There are those experiences in life that can’t be completely explained simply with words. These experiences are only truly taken in by being there. Whether from the bow of a flats skiff or behind a palm from in a duck blind, you take a step back and watch nature take it’s course, then become part of nature’s scene; be it watching a big laid up tarpon creep up on your fly cross-eyed about to slurp it or watching a flock of ducks with wings spread and landing gear deployed swooping down on a spread of decoys. The moments lead up to climax as you strip set steel into a dragon’s mouth or pull the trigger on your 12 gauge as a duck is directly down the sight atop your gun barrel. 2013’s end made way for a new type of inevitable obsession. The sport of hunting fowl that had passed me in childhood has come to my reality today. The crossroad I had taken at an early age to pursue Fly Fishing rather then hunting had finally merged into the same road. Admittedly, there are a few influential people in my life that helped encourage this final push. This is the beginning, the first pursuit all over again as I spent some afternoons at the trap/skeet field honing my shot, learned to distinguish between the different types of waterfowl, read up on regulations, and researched the type of gear used to travel down this path. As with most things you become passionate about, the more you learn, the less you realize you actually know. The journey down the road to become a better hunter or fisherman is always most exciting when you are just starting out. The new road ahead is clear… 12 weights and 12 gauges.
The few photos shared below from my most recent duck hunt can only partially describe the experience.