GARLAND CITY — You know you’re in a hot spot when ducks land around a guy standing among the decoys shooting photographs. Randy Bobo of Hope, a member of Moccasin Bayou Hunting Club, made the challenge.
“I bet I can call them down right on top of your head,” he said.
“You really think so?” I asked.
“I bet I can,” he said.
“All right,” I replied. “You’re on.”
Five of us had limited out, so this little game was harmless. I stood like a statue, head down, watching the reflection of orbiting mallards and gadwalls on the water’s surface. Their wings flapped like muffled applause. Several times they dipped low enough to put a breeze in my hair when they suddenly changed their minds and accelerated upward. It didn’t bother them at all when I pointed my camera skyward and snapped a few frames.
Finally, the birds lit. Not on my head, as Bobo promised, but close enough to claim the wager.
Dr. Lester Sitzes of Hope, a dentist and former member of the Arkansas Game and Fish Commission, told me this place was good. It’s not that I didn’t believe him. It’s just that I don’t usually think of pointing my tires toward southwest Arkansas in duck season, but on this day, this spot near Texarkana produced some greentree duck hunting that’s as good as any I’ve seen.
Our group Wednesday included Sitzes, Bobo, Warren Webster of Hope and his son Logan Webster, a senior studying journalism at the University of Arkansas. I left the house at 2:45 a.m. to meet the Websters at Hope, and then followed them in the darkness to Garland City, near the Red River.
At about 5:30 a.m., we clambered into a boat and waited for Bobo to ignite a balky outboard.
“It ain’t a hunt unless Randy has engine trouble,” Warren Webster said.
Finally, the motor sputtered to life. Its coughs smoothed into a low purr, and we snaked down a trail through the trees to Blind No.
- It and No. 5 are two of the best on the property, Sitzes said, adding that they have been stellar so far this year.
After stowing the boat under an awning, Sitzes and Bobo took stations in the water to the left of the blind. Logan Webster stood in the water to the right of the blind. Warren and I stood in the blind.
Wood ducks shrieked all around us as the dawn sky filled with ducks. The first couple of bunches were greenwinged teal, followed by a group of shovelers. Then the mallards arrived.
Mallards don’t bomb a hole the way teal and gadwalls do. They circle high for a long look. If they like what they see, they gather into a gentle, tightening spiral. They descend lower and lower, circling the hole while “scout” ducks buzz the hole. One or several will flutter inches from the water and then rocket skyward to rejoin the orbiting flock. Meanwhile, other ducks join the cloud from all directions. What started out as a dozen ducks quickly swells to 40-50.
More scouts buzz in and back out. While this is going on, you don’t realize how long you’ve held your breath until your brain finally forces a mighty gasp. Your chest heaves a couple of times before you recompose.
Finally, the birds commit. They set their wings and drop in, rocking from side to side and careening recklessly. It happened time after time Wednesday, and it seemed like they would never stop.
When it was over, we killed mallards, shovelers, greenwings, gadwalls and even a couple of wigeons, all by 7:20 a.m. That was enough time for Logan to go swimming. It happened when he tripped over a root while rushing to pick up a dead duck.
“That man got water down inside a brand new, $400 pair of waders,” Bobo said disdainfully.
“First time this season,” Logan said.
“I’m sure it won’t be the last, either,” Bobo retorted.
The hunting is usually very good early in the season, Sitzes said. The area doesn’t usually hold as many birds as eastern Arkansas, nor does it hold them as long, he added, but there is usually enough to keep the Moccasin Bayou hunters happy.
Warren Webster said the early spell of cold weather seemed to have pushed enough birds south to keep things lively for a long time.
With so many ducks in the air, nobody wanted to leave the hole. They were such a wondrous sight that we took to playing little games like trying to land them on a photographer’s head.
When a hole is that hot, nothing much will dissuade them.