Tornado Warning
By Chris Dorsey, Senior Writer
There are few places where a waterfowler can regularly find himself in the eye of a storm of ducks and geese . . . but then few places are like Alberta.
Some 1,000 ducks and another 500 geese are making their third figure-eight pass over our blind at treetop height. Perhaps even more remarkable is the fact that we have no intention of shooting. The show continues for 10 minutes, as our spread seems briefly to be at the center of the waterfowl universe.
We are silent and motionless as all manner of quack, chuckle, gabble, and honk fills the air. The rush of wind over pinions reaches a roar as the ducks bank sharply above our heads, perhaps a fly-rod length away, as they practice touch and go landings. Invisibility is perhaps the waterfowler's greatest virtue. That and the ability not to call.
Our pause has less to do with restraint than it does practicality, for we are close to an Alberta daily bag limit of eight ducks and eight Canada geese a piece.
I'm sharing a blind with Alberta outfitter Jeff Klotz and Jameson Parker, the host of The World of Ducks Unlimited television series.
We decide to forgo a few more birds for the chance to watch the cloud of ducks and geese descend on us, as they only seem to do on the prairies of the U.S. and Canada.
As impressive as the spectacle is, it is not an unusual phenomenon in the world of Alberta waterfowling. We're hunting in the east-central region of the province near the small town of Vermilion. The area is dotted by Ducks Unlimited projects, many of which provide vital water sources, especially during dry years.
It is an area where the prairie-that vast expanse of barley, wheat, and wind-meets the rolling parklands with its occasional copses of aspen and undulating terrain.
For the thousands of American waterfowlers who journey north of the border to prospect for ducks and geese each autumn, the place is nothing less than a mother lode of hunting opportunity.
Klotz and his partner, Greg Speitelsbach, chose the region to base their Alberta Flyway Outfitters operation for two simple reasons: an abundance of birds and a scarcity of hunters.
The countryside seems nearly abandoned. A few old buildings sit swallowed by weeds, mortgages, and neglect.
There is an overwhelming sense of solitude coupled with an urge to want to roam. Klotz's Suburban is fueled up and we've got room to explore.
The afternoon begins by situating 10 dozen full-body decoys in a horseshoe shape in front of a field blind brushed with nearby willow stems, the traditional hide of choice in the region. Most important, we're sitting in the midst of a field of harvested peas. Under the dried vines of the plants, spilled peas litter the ground like ever present marbles.
They act as a duck and goose narcotic, for the birds will fly over countless miles of barley and wheat fields in search of peas. To be sure, hunting in a pea field does wonders for your confidence as a duck and goose caller.
Knowing the birds' weakness for the crop, Klotz flies the region in summer, plotting GPS coordinates when he identifies a pea field. From there, it's a matter of obtaining permission from area farmers. The formula has allowed him hunting access to a vast region and has brought him a loyal cadre of repeat clients.
We are preparing for the afternoon flight of birds from a nearby lake that serves as something of a refuge for the roosting ducks and geese. Before we are finished positioning the decoys, and with vehicles still parked next to the blind, a flock of about 75 snow geese cup their wings and sail toward us. It is as if the white Chevy is a four-wheel-drive magnum decoy.
We look with astonishment, as it is hard to imagine these normally cagey birds committing collective suicide. Nevertheless, they descend low enough for both Parker and myself to intercept a bird apiece.
