Anyone that has hunted ducks or geese with any seriousness
at all has heard about the great hunting to be had on Maryland’s Eastern
Shore. The town of Easton, MD is right
up there with Stuttgart, AR as far as waterfowl hunting goes.
Well, this past weekend I participated in a “Train the
Trainer” seminar put on by Project Healing Waters. The event was put together to give interested
volunteers the information and training that they will need to organize and run
a local program for disabled veterans. As Ryan and I have been planning the same sort
of event for the southeastern US, I though it a good idea to attend and compare
notes. The event was held a Point Pleasant
, just outside of St. Michaels, MD.
It was a 12 hour drive for me so I was really hoping that it
would be worth the effort. Mapquest told
me that it was a 10 hour dive, but they didn’t take into account that I would
be hitting the DC Beltway at 4PM. How do
those people stand this! I spent two
hours in stop and go traffic.
It was dark and raining when I finally pulled into town so I saw nothing of the fabled Eastern
Shore.
I awoke to misting rain and fog. Breakfast was scheduled at 8AM at the lodge. This place was amazing. Formally owned by the DuPont family as a
private hunting and fishing preserve, it encompasses 1,000 acres with 7 miles
of shoreline on the Chesapeake Bay. When
I exited my car at the lodge I heard the music.
While others were bemoaning the lack of warmth and sunshine
(keep in mind that these were all fishermen) I was relishing the
“atmospherics.” As soon as my car door
opened I heard it. What must have been
10,000 Canada Geese and who know how many ducks were engaged in the chorus that
brings goose bumps (can’t believe I said that) to a wingshooter. And the weather? This was no “Bluebird Day” with nothing
flying but songbirds – it was the sort of day with the cacophony of sight and
sound that waterfowl hunters dream of. It brought back memories of the Great Salt Plains area that
Roger and I used to hunt in north central Oklahoma. Throughout the day the sky was alive with
birds. Birds that continually distracted
me from the subject at hand, and birds that western North Carolina, for the
most part, is devoid of.
I have been invited back, and given the chance, I’ll do
it. But I’ll avoid the Beltway, and I’ll
have my trusty 12 gauge with me.
My eight year old grandson spent his first day afield last week with his dad and a few hunting buddies, and the proudest Gramps on earth is glad to report that, armed with his new 20 gauge, he bagged a few quail!
While others were bemoaning the lack of warmth and sunshine
(keep in mind that these were all fishermen) I was relishing the
“atmospherics.” As soon as my car door
opened I heard it. What must have been
10,000 Canada Geese and who know how many ducks were engaged in the chorus that
brings goose bumps (can’t believe I said that) to a wingshooter. And the weather? This was no “Bluebird Day” with nothing
flying but songbirds – it was the sort of day with the cacophony of sight and
sound that waterfowl hunters dream of. It brought back memories of the Great Salt Plains area that
Roger and I used to hunt in north central Oklahoma. Throughout the day the sky was alive with
birds. Birds that continually distracted
me from the subject at hand, and birds that western North Carolina, for the
most part, is devoid of. 
