Dreaming of Yesterdays, and Planning Future Adventures.

That no good, dirty-rotten, dream-stealing, confounded El Nino! To say the weather patterns of the fall of 2015, and the early winter of 2016 were abysmal would be an understatement... that is if you are as ardent a waterfowl enthusiast as I am. Adding to the affliction, the lack of solid good ice until well into the teeth of February eats at your ice fishing plans as well. Such were and have been the challenges allotted these past several months in western Wisconsin. This blog is a testament to the pursuits of good days afield, and all the misadventures one encounters along the way.

The duck season never leaves you. Sure, the season closes. You feel that mixed joy and sadness as you stash your gear to its winter home... but the sights, sounds, smells, and visions of overcast skies, wings cupped, feet down pervade your every thought.

The 2014 season was my Renaissance back to the water fowling world. I'd pretty much hung things up around 2006, as babies, family, career, moving... hell, life took over. I lost my black lab Riley, and things just sort of fell into a rhythym. The changing of the seasons always stirred me to movement. I'd chase pheasant with friends, pursue whitetail through the coulees and marsh edges, and try to entice Mr. Smallmouth, or Sir Largemouth to one more line dance before the snow flied. The pull for wings never left. It just lied dormant.

I'll never forget the day we were shopping for Christmas presents. The snow was piling down in thick flakes, like something from a Hallmark holiday special. I was coming down along the bluffs of the Mississippi and its backwaters and I just stopped. I knew the ponds, marshes, and lakes had frozen over. They'd have to be running to the river. Sure enough, as I pulled the car over, and stopped to take it in, there they were. Pouring out of the sky like dive bombers, those late winter mallards were plowing through the snow with bright orange feet splashing down. Seeing that late migration and push made my pulse quicken, and my soul stir. Lord, I missed the marsh.

It took another couple years before heading back to the marshes, slews, rivers, and lakes. In fact, I was of the mindset those days were over. Then, we got a new pup in '11. A knuckle-headed dufus we named Calvin "Toothless," for my youngest son. That golden retriever puppy was an absolute joy. Irritating as all get up! He chewed holes in the sheet rock, trim, destroyed any toy you threw at him, and was always in your business. None the less, it's hard to think of how life was before him.

I started Calvin on pheasants, as that was the bird I'd been chasing down with friends. His first season was a success, but in the midst of the second things went awry. Calvin wasn't able to push through more than one field. His hips couldn't put up with the punishment. I fretted he'd just never hunt, but he did love water. That changed everything.

My purpose in this blog project is four part:

1. Sharing the Story: Anyone who has spent time afield knows the mishaps, struggles, and glorious triumphs that the pursuit of fish and game. If you don't tell your story, someone else will.

2. Share the Events: Much of the enjoyment derived from time afield is in the events people hold away from it. There is much to do in terms of conservation efforts, socializing, and enjoying the company of others with a like mind.

3. Share the Projects - The prep-work of a field outing, and the anticipation of the coming season is hope springeth eternal. Many an off-season hour is anxiously worrying away at some problem, some task, or some idea. I hope to share the good, the bad, and the ugly of whatever mess I find myself in.

4. Discuss the Sport(s) and Issues - Our outdoor legacy and heritage brings much connection to family, friends, and state story. It is part of a greater culture which honors what's been given. We as stewards of this beautiful Wisconsin landscape have a vested interest in protecting these sacred places.