As duck season gets deeper into January, you have to change the way you hunt mallards. (Joe Genzel/)
Years ago, I was in Arkansas spring snow goose hunting, and it was damn miserable, as snow goose hunting tends to be. After a sufficient amount of suffering, a friend with a private timber hole suggested that we take the morning off, and motor out to the flooded oaks to watch the remaining mallards flutter through the canopy of budding tree limbs.
Many of us had never been to such a heavenly place where wood ducks masterfully weaved in and out of the trees in the darkness, hitting high-pitched squeals that reverberated amongst the hardwoods. Then mallards lit all around us, so close you could hear each individual wingbeat. It was magnificent; made even more so, because we didn’t have shotguns in our hands as the season had long been out. I was hooked.
Every season since we’ve swapped hunts with our old Arkansas buddies. They always wanted to field hunt and I always want to get back into that magical timber.
Whether you’re in flooded timber or a frozen corn field, chasing late-season mallards requires a special set of tactics. And over the years, we’ve developed some rules to live by. They are not all hard and fast, but most will put a few birds on your strap as long as the refuge is full of greenheads.
Don’t burn your duck hole by over-hunting it. (Joe Genzel/)
Big Water