Coming to Wisconsin my mind was full of the wonders and excitements of the North Woods. For me, this meant grouse. I spent my entire first fall in WI chasing those timber rockets. Aspen stands and logging roads were my source of aspiration, yet as I drove to work across the Leo Frigo Memorial Bridge each morning my wandering eye caught glimpses northward of the dawn’s first rays sparkling across the expansive body of water from which my new city earned its namesake- Green Bay. As someone who grew up on the Chesapeake Bay, this sight bestowed a feeling of intimacy so familiar that I would challenge it against any who call the waters of Green Bay “Home.” In truth, the big water had not been of much interest to me in the lead up to our move North- particularly in the way of hunting. But as the bay’s reflected shoreline slowly turned from green to brown, it was not long before I found myself making daily stops at The Marsh.
“The Marsh” refers to what would more accurately be described as the Duck Creek Delta. The Duck Creek Delta once drained a massive wetland complex- the Duck Creek Marsh. Due to its close proximity to both paper mills and the city, the Duck Creek Marsh eventually gave way to development. The village of Howard, where I live, sits on the former marsh. Beaver Dam Creek, which runs through my back yard, runs only a mile from my house to the bay- joining in with Duck Creek along the way and dumping into the bay at “The Marsh”. The Marsh existed historically due to a chain of barrier islands across the southern bay called the Cat Island Chain. But in the 1970s a bad combination of storms and winters eroded the chain, leaving The Marsh exposed to the sometimes grizzly south winds coming down the bay. The Marsh was eventually devastated. Long before I moved to Green Bay (but not before my little brother adorned his room with posters and memorabilia celebrating my new city’s team- the Packers), major efforts were under way that culminated in the Cat Island Restoration Project. Through dredging and other activities, a long dike was placed across the Cat Island Shoal- restoring the shelter which had been historically provided by Cat Island Chain. Due to this project and others along Green Bay’s western shore, The Marsh is back to something close to its glory days- and so are the ducks.
Cat Island Dike visible in the background
The Marsh happens to be the closest waterfowl hunting spot to my house- and it is a good one. But the single defining feature that places it center stage in my waterfowl beginnings is the Ken Euers Nature Area. The Ken Euers Nature Area is nothing special- an old dump on the southern edge of The Marsh that Ducks Unlimited (and others) restored as a small waterfowl resting/nesting area. For me, what it provides is a clear scouting point of The Marsh. Not only can you walk the short dike right to The Marsh’s edge, but because of the site’s historic use it provides a point of high elevation that otherwise would not exist. This point of elevation is also nothing special- a small hill planted with native upland grasses. It is relatively unknown (or unused) except to birders, but with a spotting scope or a good set of binoculars one can see the entirety of The Marsh from enough distance to have no effect on waterfowl (and hunters) utilizing the area.
views from the end of the dike
paddling up into The Marsh with Sawyer
As a habitual e-scouter and day dreamer, I knew about the Ken Euers Nature Area long before my move to Green Bay. My first trip or two during the summer of 2023 revealed not much more than a place to spot small groups of mallards- a part of the cycle that I would not fully understand until the following summer. When I began work in late August I decided to stop by one day to see if anything had changed. What had been a relatively desolate place only a month or so prior was teeming with waterfowl- more than I had ever seen. Mallards and wood ducks were everywhere. For every big duck that I saw, there were ten coots. What suprised me the most was the large flocks of Blue Winged Teal zipping and zooming around, and with the teal opener only a few days away it was memorably painful to accept that I would be sitting out the 2023 waterfowl season.
When staring down the thought of an entire year passing before an opportunity comes again, it is easy to become disinterested by disassociation. I do recognize and envy the countless individuals whose circumstances afford them the opportunity to refer to this as small, but the ability to stop for a quick scout before and after work has provided significant quality of life value- something I was desperate for in my time preceding the move north. At the time I was still more interested in other pursuits and between the move, starting a new job, and having a young child the many rigors of waterfowling were simply not possible for me. And so, via the Ken Euers Nature Area and The Marsh, I experienced my first waterfowl season on Green Bay vicariously as an observer.