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Forty-two (42) years ago today, October 7, 1980, the legal time to begin duck hunting on Sibley Lake National Wildlife Refuge in Kidder County, North Dakota was 7:15 a.m. By 7:00 a.m. my Chesapeake Bay Retriever and I had our decoys spread out by a makeshift blind on the northeast shore of the lake. We watched ducks fly past us until 7:15 when a pair of drake American Wigeon flew toward the decoys. Two shots from my .870 Wingmaster 12 gauge and Chester was in the water retrieving them
No sooner did he return with both ducks when two more drake Wigeons set their wings to land. Two more shots and Chester was in the water retrieving. The bag limit that year was 5 birds and I decided to wait for a drake Mallard to be my fifth and final duck. However a drake Redhead flew in and I couldn’t resist. After Chester retrieved the Redhead I looked at my watch. It was 7:27. We had limited out in 12 minutes.
Next we drove to the south end of the lake where a huge flock of Snow Geese was known to roost. Laying under two large white sheets we waited for the geese to return. When they did I stood up and fired. Three Snow Geese fell with the first shot and a fourth fell with the second. With one shell left I focused on a dark goose I assumed was a Canada and fired. Chester jumped in the water and returned with a Black Brant, a sea goose of the Pacific Coast and the only one I ever saw in North Dakota. It was 8:30 and we were limited out on geese.
From Sibley Lake back to Jamestown took about 1 hour 15 minutes. We followed back roads, stopping at a patch of native prairie where I quickly dispatched a limit of 3 Sharp-tailed Grouse and later we picked up a limit of Gray Partridge simply by encountering flocks along the road.
Returning home I dropped off my dog and the bounty of birds I would later clean. Then proceeded to my office where I was sitting at my desk by 12 noon less than 5 hours after the first shot of the day
There were other great hunting days in North Dakota that kept my dog very happy through 1982. Then the world came crashing down in 1983 and I no longer had a place to keep my dog. He was returned to my parents farm in Wisconsin where he lived two more years. With him gone I haven’t picked up a gun, other than to give away those I owned, since November 1982.
The best part of living in North Dakota was hunting season each fall. Had things not worked out the way they did I would probably still be living there and this morning I would be shivering in chest waders waiting for the first duck of the day to fly into my decoy spread
