How did you get started?

[Bootlipkiller]

My dad and gramps took me. I liked it. I still go once in a while.

[gila-river]

Family was always into wingshooting for generations. When my dad and uncle moved to states they picked up right where they left off. With my birthday being in October. I was at Gray lodge in the motor home on opening day of the same month. Pops started taking me out for afternoon hunts when I was 3. By the time I was 4 he was packing me on his back in the mornings. Walking on a levee in the pitch black, hearing thousands of ducks jumping off the ponds was addictive. Then after a couple mile walk we'd dump off into a pond. One of my first memories was being knee high at the Gray lodge check station 2 hours before check in with a few hundred guys all dressed in camo. I was kinda scared and excited all at the same time. I loved it right from the beginning. Always hearing the old timers talk about the "good old days" was a blast. I still enjoying hearing the story's. I really think that's part of why I love it so much and get out as much as I can. Constantly trying catch a day like it was back then. I can truly say waterfowling to me is much more then a hobby or a pass time. My life and year revolves around it. It's takin me to work on refuge set up days, duck clubs, and a professional outfitter. Constantly trying to get better at it and learn new things... I know I'm over passionate about this. But seriously ducks and geese are fucking aweosome!!!

Awesome write up Gaddie. For realz.

[Tiler_J]

My dad and gramps took me. I liked it. I still go once in a while.

Awesome! The way you tell that story! It's like I was there, I can see it in my mind. Thank you for sharing. You truly have a way with words. It's a gift.

[Tiler_J]

Back when I was but a wee-lad, my father took me on my first waterfowl hunt. I was 6 month old, as I recall, and my father drug me 7 miles through the marsh in a burlap sack. Life was rough back then, my family were poor imigrant potato pickers, so it was either shoot a few ducks or eat more damn potatoes. There are only so many ways you can cook a potato before you just can't take it anymore. I remember it was cold in the sack and I could hear what sounded like millions of ducks flying off the ponds. I'll never forget that sound, it sounded just like millions of ducks flying off the ponds. Finally we were there, the spot my father had stashed his whiskey. It was a slow morning, the fog rolled in thick and deep. My father gazed into the morning gloom, turned to me and said, " Fuck the limits! The wardens aren't going to see shit in this!" At that point on, anything that appeared out of the fog was fair game. We shot quite a few ducks, a couple geese, and even a few hawks. I shot my first duck that day and made 40 or 50 retrieves. I only lost a few. My dad was so proud, he let me ride in the truck on the way home. Memories.

Hahahaha I seriously lol'ed and had to explains to my wife why

Tell her, I am sorry.

[Bootlipkiller]

My dad and gramps took me. I liked it. I still go once in a while.

Awesome! The way you tell that story! It's like I was there, I can see it in my mind. Thank you for sharing. You truly have a way with words. It's a gift.

Really.... I thought it was a little wordy.

[GadwallGetter530]

I have a host of friends.

[Bootlipkiller]

I have a host of friends.

[Tiler_J]

My dad and gramps took me. I liked it. I still go once in a while.

Awesome! The way you tell that story! It's like I was there, I can see it in my mind. Thank you for sharing. You truly have a way with words. It's a gift.

Really.... I thought it was a little wordy.

No, it was just right.

[3legged_lab]

Back when I was but a wee-lad, my father took me on my first waterfowl hunt. I was 6 month old, as I recall, and my father drug me 7 miles through the marsh in a burlap sack. Life was rough back then, my family were poor imigrant potato pickers, so it was either shoot a few ducks or eat more damn potatoes. There are only so many ways you can cook a potato before you just can't take it anymore. I remember it was cold in the sack and I could hear what sounded like millions of ducks flying off the ponds. I'll never forget that sound, it sounded just like millions of ducks flying off the ponds. Finally we were there, the spot my father had stashed his whiskey. It was a slow morning, the fog rolled in thick and deep. My father gazed into the morning gloom, turned to me and said, " Fuck the limits! The wardens aren't going to see shit in this!" At that point on, anything that appeared out of the fog was fair game. We shot quite a few ducks, a couple geese, and even a few hawks. I shot my first duck that day and made 40 or 50 retrieves. I only lost a few. My dad was so proud, he let me ride in the truck on the way home. Memories.

Bwahahahahaha

X2

[AKPirate]

Back when I was but a wee-lad, my father took me on my first waterfowl hunt. I was 6 month old, as I recall, and my father drug me 7 miles through the marsh in a burlap sack. Life was rough back then, my family were poor imigrant potato pickers, so it was either shoot a few ducks or eat more damn potatoes. There are only so many ways you can cook a potato before you just can't take it anymore. I remember it was cold in the sack and I could hear what sounded like millions of ducks flying off the ponds. I'll never forget that sound, it sounded just like millions of ducks flying off the ponds. Finally we were there, the spot my father had stashed his whiskey. It was a slow morning, the fog rolled in thick and deep. My father gazed into the morning gloom, turned to me and said, " Fuck the limits! The wardens aren't going to see shit in this!" At that point on, anything that appeared out of the fog was fair game. We shot quite a few ducks, a couple geese, and even a few hawks. I shot my first duck that day and made 40 or 50 retrieves. I only lost a few. My dad was so proud, he let me ride in the truck on the way home. Memories.

Bwahahahahaha

X2

You forgot the part where he cut off a toe every time until you hit your first bird

[Tiler_J]

Back when I was but a wee-lad, my father took me on my first waterfowl hunt. I was 6 month old, as I recall, and my father drug me 7 miles through the marsh in a burlap sack. Life was rough back then, my family were poor imigrant potato pickers, so it was either shoot a few ducks or eat more damn potatoes. There are only so many ways you can cook a potato before you just can't take it anymore. I remember it was cold in the sack and I could hear what sounded like millions of ducks flying off the ponds. I'll never forget that sound, it sounded just like millions of ducks flying off the ponds. Finally we were there, the spot my father had stashed his whiskey. It was a slow morning, the fog rolled in thick and deep. My father gazed into the morning gloom, turned to me and said, " Fuck the limits! The wardens aren't going to see shit in this!" At that point on, anything that appeared out of the fog was fair game. We shot quite a few ducks, a couple geese, and even a few hawks. I shot my first duck that day and made 40 or 50 retrieves. I only lost a few. My dad was so proud, he let me ride in the truck on the way home. Memories.

Bwahahahahaha

X2

You forgot the part where he cut off a toe every time until you hit your first bird

I was saving that part for the sequel!! Damn you Tim, why do you have to go and ruin the good thing I had going here?!

[QH's Paw]

My dad and gramps took me. I liked it. I still go once in a while.

Awesome! The way you tell that story! It's like I was there, I can see it in my mind. Thank you for sharing. You truly have a way with words. It's a gift.

No shit, for real, I was on the edge of my seat through the whole story.

[AKPirate]

Back when I was but a wee-lad, my father took me on my first waterfowl hunt. I was 6 month old, as I recall, and my father drug me 7 miles through the marsh in a burlap sack. Life was rough back then, my family were poor imigrant potato pickers, so it was either shoot a few ducks or eat more damn potatoes. There are only so many ways you can cook a potato before you just can't take it anymore. I remember it was cold in the sack and I could hear what sounded like millions of ducks flying off the ponds. I'll never forget that sound, it sounded just like millions of ducks flying off the ponds. Finally we were there, the spot my father had stashed his whiskey. It was a slow morning, the fog rolled in thick and deep. My father gazed into the morning gloom, turned to me and said, " Fuck the limits! The wardens aren't going to see shit in this!" At that point on, anything that appeared out of the fog was fair game. We shot quite a few ducks, a couple geese, and even a few hawks. I shot my first duck that day and made 40 or 50 retrieves. I only lost a few. My dad was so proud, he let me ride in the truck on the way home. Memories.

Bwahahahahaha

X2

You forgot the part where he cut off a toe every time until you hit your first bird

I was saving that part for the sequel!! Damn you Tim, why do you have to go and ruin the good thing I had going here?!

I like sequels and turtles. Look at the bright side, you don't have to cut the toenails on 7 of your toes.

[AKPirate]

On my very first hunt, I went with my Dad and my Grandma's boyfriend. Just at the opening minute we flushed a bunch of birds towards my Grandma's boyfriend. He shot a hen pheasant and fell over dead. That was a little weird. True story.

[QH's Paw]

No Tim, sequins and sequels are not the same thing.

[AKPirate]

No Tim, sequins and sequels are not the same thing.

rats

[3legged_lab]

On my very first hunt, I went with my Dad and my Grandma's boyfriend. Just at the opening minute we flushed a bunch of birds towards my Grandma's boyfriend. He shot a hen pheasant and fell over dead. That was a little weird. True story.

Ha!

[GadwallGetter530]

On my very first hunt, I went with my Dad and my Grandma's boyfriend. Just at the opening minute we flushed a bunch of birds towards my Grandma's boyfriend. He shot a hen pheasant and fell over dead. That was a little weird. True story.

Timmy For the win.

I must be a morbid fuck. I almost just pissed myself laughing. :lol::lol:

[Tiler_J]

I like sequels and turtles. Look at the bright side, you don't have to cut the toenails on 7 of your toes.

[i shoot spoonies]

Dad shot a dove. Saw the blood and hole through its head and thought it was cool. Been torturing small woodland creatures ever since

[Tiler_J]

On my very first hunt, I went with my Dad and my Grandma's boyfriend. Just at the opening minute we flushed a bunch of birds towards my Grandma's boyfriend. He shot a hen pheasant and fell over dead. That was a little weird. True story.

You win!

[AKPirate]

On my very first hunt, I went with my Dad and my Grandma's boyfriend. Just at the opening minute we flushed a bunch of birds towards my Grandma's boyfriend. He shot a hen pheasant and fell over dead. That was a little weird. True story.

Timmy For the win.

I must be a morbid fuck. I almost just pissed myself laughing. :lol::lol:

First dead person I ever saw. He pissed himself too

[Bootlipkiller]

On my very first hunt, I went with my Dad and my Grandma's boyfriend. Just at the opening minute we flushed a bunch of birds towards my Grandma's boyfriend. He shot a hen pheasant and fell over dead. That was a little weird. True story.

Timmy For the win.

I must be a morbid fuck. I almost just pissed myself laughing. :lol::lol:

First dead person I ever saw. He pissed himself too

See JR peed himself on the eel because he was hunting with Tim.

[hudson]

First time I ever went duck hunting was with my brother in law on the north shore of Lake Pontchartrain when I was 13 during a visit for xmas.SInce then I've killed ducks here, Arkansas and Montana.I live for the early cold mornings of sitting in the marsh and waking up with all of God's creatures and ducks cupped up and fluttering over my setup.Nothing can compare to a flock of 30+ greenwing breaking out the atmosphere so fast the wind on their wings sounds like a jet.Its a rush for me like no other and I'll hunt those feathered fuckers till I can't pick a gun up anymore.

[assateague]

My dad doesn't hunt, but I went with my grandpa in the woods for wood ducks, and occasionally field hunted geese. Although I didn't know it at the time, I'm pretty sure my first 20-30 outings were technically "poaching". Farmers down here don't have much time for "game laws" and "seasons".

[FlintRiverFowler]

Grew up only shooting crows at the farm with my uncle and occasionally doing some quail hunting with my dad.
When I was like 17-18 some of my buddies were like, hey we should try duck hunting.
So we dropped in the river in a plastic jon boat at about 10 am and sat behind a piece of burlap. It was a while before we figured out you had to get out there real early and actually started shooting ducks. Was only a casual hunter during college. Like somebody would ask me if I wanted to go and I'd have to go buy my license and duck stamp right then usually well into the season. Wound up actually pawning my waders one night bc i was broke and wanted to go out for a night of drinking and bar hopping. Wasn't til the past two seasons that I really got into it. Bought a boat just last season. Hoping ill be able to even hunt half as much as I did last year with the baby coming.

[waterfowlman]

How did all you guys get started in waterfowling?

Both of my grandfathers were duck hunters, dad, uncles and brothers were/are too. Both of my sons are damn fine waterfowlers. My brother and I have got our grandsons hunting with us too nowadays. Been duck shooting since I was 14. Can't think of anything better than sharing a blind with family and good friends.

[jarbo03]

Grew up in a house full of bird dogs, mostly brittanies. Upland hunting was life, starting about the age of 5. I still visit the people where I made my first hunt 32 years ago. Was very little waterfowl around here while growing up, was a big deal if you saw a goose, that is why dad quit waterfowling. In my early teens, my best friends older brother moved back from Houston, he was a huge waterfowler. He let me start tagging along. Wasn't long before I needed a lab to go along with my brittany, the rest is history.

[Deltaman]

Growing up, we had a houseboat in Nigger Lake (which has since been changed by the state to McReynolds Lake........fuckers!), and kept our duck skiff dangling by ropes under a covered shed on Tensaw River @ Cliff's Landing. Dad would pack me and my two older brothers up and we'd head out into the darkness of the delta. At the time (early 60's), there were old Liberty ships lining the river, and they were stacked 4 and 5 deep along the sides. Running up on one of those old ships in the fog is one of my earliest memories, and I vividly recall almost shitting my pants at the time. Wood Ducks in the creeks were the main game, but Widgeon, Gadwall, Mallards and Teal were regular visitors as well. Watching the marsh come alive at daylight, with owls hooting and listening for the whistling of duck wings overhead is an excitement I'll never lose. As years passed, I got my driver's license and migrated South to the big marsh of the causeway. I'd put my old hand me down 18 hp Johnson (Buccaneer days, it was gold and white), in the trunk of the car, and rent a boat ($2 a day), from one of the many bait camps that lined the causeway. I was amazed at the sheer number and variety of ducks compared to my earlier hunts to the North. Most of my duck hunting now is in the larger areas of the causeway, but I always make at least one trip North to relive my childhood, and it never disappoints. The smell of the marsh mud, owls hooting in the background, and the excitement of hearing the first ducks passing overhead will never grow old.

[Redbeard]

Family was always into wingshooting for generations. When my dad and uncle moved to states they picked up right where they left off. With my birthday being in October. I was at Gray lodge in the motor home on opening day of the same month. Pops started taking me out for afternoon hunts when I was 3. By the time I was 4 he was packing me on his back in the mornings. Walking on a levee in the pitch black, hearing thousands of ducks jumping off the ponds was addictive. Then after a couple mile walk we'd dump off into a pond. One of my first memories was being knee high at the Gray lodge check station 2 hours before check in with a few hundred guys all dressed in camo. I was kinda scared and excited all at the same time. I loved it right from the beginning. Always hearing the old timers talk about the "good old days" was a blast. I still enjoying hearing the story's. I really think that's part of why I love it so much and get out as much as I can. Constantly trying catch a day like it was back then. I can truly say waterfowling to me is much more then a hobby or a pass time. My life and year revolves around it. It's takin me to work on refuge set up days, duck clubs, and a professional outfitter. Constantly trying to get better at it and learn new things... I know I'm over passionate about this. But seriously ducks and geese are fucking aweosome!!!

Are you going to hire Morgan Freeman to read this someday

yea Morgan Freeman will narrate Kevin Nash Buckingham's life story in the upcoming HBO mini series "All Quiet at Gray Lodge: First Light"