At the Ste. Anne's Club....
I'd flown into NYC and back out in the same day on Tuesday and was beat down tired. When the call came in I decided a mental health day was in order. My friend Jim is a member at the famous old Ste. Anne's Club on Walpole Island in Ontario. He has guest privileges so invited me over for an afternoon shoot. Our indian guide met us at the dock around 2pm and we headed for the shooting grounds. The club is located on the Walpole Indian Reservation.
A long canal led us to a small pond surrounded by 10 foot high reeds, a nice dry blind fronted one side and we were exactly right with the wind. A couple dozen decoys made a fine set in such a small hole and we were quickly ready to go. We'd run about 20 greenwing teal out of the hole on the way in so we had an idea something was going to happen. Took about 45 minutes for them to start coming back but they certainly did. First customer was a single teal which fell to Jim's gun. Then it was mayhem! Flocks of teal coming in all the time, seemingly from everywhere. Our best score was five out of one bunch, that's pretty good on greenwings in anybody's book. When the smoke cleared we had a pair of mallards and the rest greenwings for a limit. I was having one of those "good days" when my gun seemed like magic, I raised it only once that a duck didn't fall. I was shooting the big 34 inch DHE of course, that old girl seems to know her business even if I don't.
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I was as virtuously given as a gentleman need to be; virtuous enough; swore little; diced not above seven times a week; went to a bawdy-house once in a quarter--of an hour; paid money that I borrowed, three of four times; lived well and in good compass: and now I live out of all order, out of all compass. Falstaff - Henry IV
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