The Mississippi River trip

The trip that I am about to write about is almost like a religion for the people that take part in it each year.

Forty-six years ago my father, the late Robert Walters, took me camping on an island on the Mississippi River near Ferryville where I took part in my first duck hunt. I am as addicted to this annual trip as I am to deer camp and our annual Canadian fly-in fishing adventure.

There have been years when I was the only person on it (duckhunting trip) and then this year we hit an all-time high with 18 very hard-core duck hunters attempting to whack ducks and some catch fish.

Friday, Sept. 29

High 74, Low 53

The general population of this year’s hunt was about 25 years old and enjoys the campfire as much as the duck blind. These are young men from Poynette and Necedah that like myself call this trip “The Mississippi” when talking about it the rest of the year.

I love giving these guys a hard time and am always amazed at how much better they get at this game each year.

Mud motors are the norm and by using their phones as a GPS they can find their duck-hunting spot with ease in the dark and move along at least at 10 mph.

Ruby’s mother Fire (my golden retrievers) would be hunting with guys that did not have a dog and I would be alone in my canoe with Ruby for the weekend.

My daughter, Selina, was not along this year as she is being hit hard by mononucleosis. I have never witnessed this illness before and it is horrible.

On Friday we build camp which is about three miles south of Lansing, Iowa, and then head out to explore and pick out our hunting spots.

Today I had kind of bad luck when I realized that a rock incident on my last adventure did some serious damage to my boat trailer and one of my tires was gone and there was going to have to be some money spent to fix my problem.

Saturday, Sept. 30

High 77, Low 52

Thank God for old buddies! Some of our gang left camp at midnight to secure their hunting locations and the rest were gone by 4 a.m.

I was so tired that I did not hear a thing until my pal, Doug Cibulka, sent me a text at 5:52 a.m. saying “good luck.” Doug was hunting with his son, Derek, near Poynette and was my wakeup call.

With a 6:35 a.m. opener, I did not bring any food and was paddling my canoe by 6:05 a.m. and had my decoys set a full four minutes before shooting started.

To say the very least, the sky was full of wood duck and teal, and with my first shot I dropped a hen wood duck, Ruby saw it hit the water and she was out of the canoe like a rocket and did a perfect retrieve.

We do a lot of texting and some phone calls and for the most part everyone was having incredible shooting except my brother-in-law, Dick Schuster, and his brother, Randy, who were fishing and did pretty good on perch, bluegill and walleye.

In my world of empty wallets I had made a choice either – Selina or I would get new chest waders. I chose Selina.

Her waders were home on the living room floor, mine being worn by me and actually had current in them as the water would fill them so fast.

Ruby and I watched the skies until dark and had a great day visiting with our comrades. In the last minute of legal shooting Ruby retrieved a teal to me that would give me my six-bird limit.

At camp we had our annual duck-over-the-campfire meal, several mud-ball fights and before you knew it, it was time to go hunting again.

This gang is made up of skilled workers that have a strong work ethic and to the man believes in standing up for our flag.

We had so much fun that we are coming back next year!


P.S. – On day one we harvested 76 ducks and two geese!

Most recent cover pages:

POLL: Do you think Elkhart Lake made the right decision in not allowing Strawberry the pot-bellied pig?:

Copyright 2009-2018 The Plymouth Review, All Rights Reserved

Contact Information

113 E. Mill St., Plymouth WI 53073
Local: 920-893-6411 Toll Free: 1-877-467-6591
Fax: 920-893-5505

Fantastic Sam's