Twenty-one hours is a good chunk of time- at least for anyone in their mid 30’s with a busy job and a demanding family life. It was 3:00pm, and I was just leaving work. The wife had taken the kids up to her moms house for the night, and I was due back by 12:30 the next day. I got back to the house, finished the packing job that I had started the night before, and headed north.
I was headed to Halls Lake in Florence county. By ariel photos I determined that the lake was more of a wetland- the largest one in a series. It is close to the pine river and a number of larger lakes- all good indicators that there should be ducks in the area. The lake is also surrounded by large amounts of young aspen cuts- and if things worked out right I was planning to squeeze in an late evening and late morning grouse hunt, too.
I was not able to make it all of the way out to Halls Lake in time to hunt- so I made an impromptu stop somewhere around Athelstane. With about 50 minutes to hunt, Chester and I geared up and were off.
We did not hunt too hard, but we did end up in some pretty thick stuff. We flushed 4 or 5 grouse- no shots offered. The light was fading as we headed out of the grouse woods to continue our northward journey.
By the time we get to the lake it is pitch black. Right next to the ramp, there is an equestrian camp area. I get out to scope things out- but already the fog is too thick to see anything. I start hearing horses neigh very loudly and, not wanting to disturb anyone camping here, I drive a little ways back down the long dirt road that led me to Halls Lake and find a spot to park for the night. Chester and I get out to stretch, have a bite to eat, set up gear for them morning, and then we are off to bed. With all of the lights now off- a glance upwards revealed the most spectacular stary sky that I have ever seen.
After a mostly restless night (but much better than the original plan of sleeping in the boat), we head down to the boat ramp. There is already one boat there- they must have snuck past me whilst I slept. With the boat in the water and everything ready to go, we take off. The weeds are thick- the trolling motor is getting bogged down. I learned last season that if I set the trolling motor so that about 2/3 of the prop is in the water, it is surprising what I can get through. This works, but is slow going. Worse- the fog is very thick and white light could not penetrate it at all. I recently installed an amber fog light on my boat- and it was amazing how much better the amber cut the fog. However, with the trolling motor running full throttle, there was not enough amperage left for the lights. At one point- I try starting the outboard. The weeds are far to thick, and it continuously bogs down. It is still early- and I have barely made way from the boat ramp. I decide to turn around and reassess the situation. Back at the ramp, a group of canoe hunters show up. They head out into the marsh, claiming they are going far up and over some beaver dams.
I ultimately decide not to leave the area. Instead, I take out my oars. The trolling motor continues to work for a little while, but eventually the battery dies- killing all power to the boat with it. I have a spot light- but no head lamp. In order to actually row the boat, I would need to (at least partially) remove the blind from the boat. I decide to scoot along with 1 paddle, and eventually get myself up against the bog. Off to the left, there is a nice cove and although I can hardly make out the looks of the area, I decide this is as far as I am getting. I head in, and find a good corned to set up in the cove. I do some quick brushing of the blind, set the decoys, and have some time to spare before shooting light.
Shooting light comes, and I do not anything from the other groups on the lake. A pair of birds come from the trees behind me and land in the decoys. I shamelessly swat the first bird, and miss the second (it occurs to me much later that I never swapped chokes- so this whole hunt was on an IC with #3s). Chester tries to do the retrieve- but I didn’t want to miss any other opportunities and he has not been retrieving reliably- so I call him back in.
Shortly after shooting light, I began to hear a number of dogs off in the woods. I assumed that this was likely bear dogs- something I have never experienced. However, as the dog noise continued throughout the morning it became more and more evident that they were wolves, not dogs. I listened to them most of the morning, I would guess less than half of a mile away.
Several groups of teal work the decoys- and I miss a few shots. When a group finally lands, I am able to shoot two ducks out of the group. One was dead immediately, and the other swam up to the bog right across from me and dove. I made a mental note to look for it- but the bogginess of this marsh was actually quite dangerous and I did not want to wade too far out without the boat at my side. A bog can feel like you have solid footing- but at random you can make a step and your foot will sink into the (often feet of) water sitting below the bog. This was my first experience with such a thing- and it is a danger that is probably not mentioned enough.
I miss a few more opportunities- either from missed shots or unpreparedness. As the hunt comes to a close- I am mostly just drawn into the beauty of this country. I take a step onto the land behind the blind. It is solid and easily traversed. I head up into the woods and get a good view of my part of the marsh as well as the cove I am set up in. Farther back, I see some deer trails. In the mud I notice the print of a large canine- wolves.
I pick up the ducks- 1 woodie and 1 blue winged teal, pick up the decoys, and before long Chester and I are back the ramp. We arrive at the same time as the group of canoeists. They say they have only seen 1 group of ducks all morning, and barely got a passing shot. I did not hear much shooting- but I was happy with the opportunity that I was presented with and head out considering myself lucky.
I stop a short way down the road to walk some trails for grouse. We saw some birds- again didn’t fire a shot. At one point Chester decidedly did not want to go further into a cut. His nostrils faired and he creeped forward slowly from behind me. I still had the howl of the wolves ringing in my ears from this morning, and I made the decision to not tempt fait. We backed away slowly and went a different way. Not long after, Chester and I both looked at each with an acknowledgement of exhaustion. We headed back to the car, and made the swift 1.5 hour drive out of the northwoods.
