Minnesota is beautiful in the Fall. 

 Here we are again and another Summer has passed us by.   Suddenly the air is crisper, the days are shorter and the there just isn't time to do everything you want to do.  Fall lets nature show us it's beauty and bounty, and lucky are those of us who get to experience it firsthand.  Here's a small glimpse at my Fall so far.

 I got a chance to travel to the Canadian border waters of Voyageurs National Park and Rainy Lake.  We fished and took a boat ride 31 miles into the park through a maze of rugged islands.  It was a great experience to explore this watery paradise rich in history from the times of Voyageurs and Native Americans, where little has changed over time.

It is duck opener, 2008.  Before the  9 am start time, a family of trumpeter swans visits our little lake.  As we sit and drink coffee on the porch overlooking the lake, the swans feed on wild celery in a bay shrouded in fog.  These huge and graceful birds are threatened, and a rare and special sight indeed.  They represent the wilds that we must continue to strive to protect.  Just before shooting time, the swans take off and fly right over the cabin.  Hopefully some brainless waterfowler does not kill one of these great birds today.

After the swans leave, I head to a flooded beaver marsh with hopes of killing some ducks.  Shortly after I arrive, three wood ducks scream by and my Browning drops a drake and a hen from the sky before they can reach the safety of the tamaracks.  Only two woodies can be taken daily, so I now need to focus on finding a different variety of duck.  This is a challenge where I hunt, because in the North woods wood ducks dominate the marshes.  A flock of canadian geese flies by low but out of range, then lands 1/4 mile away on a diferent part of the marsh.  Three mallards do the same.  I decide to put the sneak on them, and make m way through the woods.  Sneaking up on waterfowl is not an easy prospect.  In fact, it's darn near impossible.  However, I am lucky that my path leads over quiet footing and a few downed trees on the marsh's edge give me cover.  I see the geese, but they are feeding on the other side of the marsh and are out of range.  A quack comes from my left, and I slowly turn my head and see three drake mallards sitting on the water.  After negotiating around a few obstacles, at about 40 yards I take a shot at the closest drake.  All three take flight, and I drop two back to the water.  They aren't killed, however, and still swim around.  After reloading, I give one another dose of 2 shot and the other flies to the other side of the marsh.  Another shot is given to the one in front of me, which stills it.  Suddenly the other drake takes off, and flies around in a circle to come right over me high in the air.  I shoot, he folds, and hits the water with a huge splash 10 feet in front of me.  But then he starts to swim away!  I draw a bead and pull the trigger, but hear only a click.  I'm out of shells.  I rifle through all my pockets, cursing, as the duck limps toward the safety of the bogmat where it can hide.  So, I sprint through thick woods and bog back to my canoe, launch it and paddle like a madman back to my downed drakes.  It takes me fifteen minutes to get back.  I collect the one dead mallard, then search the floating bogmat and thick weeds for an hour but fail to find the other one.  Disgusted with my ineptitude, I give up the search but count the lost bird in my bag which gives me my limit for the day.  My hunt is over.  I had forgotten to change chokes in my shotgun after grouse unting last night, and my modified pattern was not effective at killing these large ducks.  Never again.

I got out fishing for a short while, and found that the fish had vacated the shallows for the most part.  Trolling deep cabbage edges produced some pike, which took my all-time favorite pike lure.  Judging by the tooth scratches, you can tell that old jack of diamonds Dardevle has caught it's share of pike over the years!  Largest fish was about 6 pounds, but I lost one that would have gone into the teens. 

Keep it ROUGH! ~Andrew Geving, Roughfisher(and hunter)at Large 

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