An Outdoorsman's Journal

Mississippi River Duck Hunt 2025

Hello friends,

   We call it "The Mississippi." This trip is actually like a religion to the 15 to 23 of us that make it each year and it is all about comradery, adventure and hopefully shooting ducks. My first time to the islands across from Ferryville was in 1971, 54 hunts ago. There is no way I can miss this trip unless there is flooding or maybe if I die.
   I brought my 3 stepsons Kevin, Travis and Joey here and other than Kevin who lives in Alaska, Joey and Travis make it happen. One of Joey's high school classmates, Grant Wandler fly's in from California, like I said, "it’s a religion!

   Friday, October 3rd
   High 89, low 63

   The War Eagle and its occupants, myself and my trusty companion Red, were off and running from Lansing, Iowa to our island paradise and it was warm enough to wear shorts and sandals. As soon as I reached the island and was greeted by several of my comrades I started unloading and ferrying gear from the boat through water and muck to the island, both of my sandals would fall apart during this procedure.
   There would be 15 of us this year, 13 duck hunters and my brother Mike and brother in law Dick Schuster would be fishing. Long story short on the fishing, if they had to eat what they caught they would both be skinnier than me. We build camp and before we even go scouting for ducks we all sit in a circle around our campfire or something like that and shoot the breeze. Shooting the breeze is something that this gang is very good at.
   Three hours before I dark, I took the War Eagle and my canoe and went exploring near the Wisconsin shoreline which is a good 2.5 miles away. There was a lot of shallow water that enforced the decision that I would live out of my canoe this weekend.
   Camp after dark on the island, never any negativity, 6 dogs loving every minute of the island and the socialization and a bunch of guys that for this exact group anyways, only get together one weekend a year, with a bonus of every one of us is an excellent camp cook.

   Saturday, October 4th
   High 87, low 59

   Sometimes I make poor choices. Today's poor choice was waiting until 9:00 to change my decision not to shoot hen wood ducks or teal.
  I was living out of my canoe and pretty proud of myself as in the dark, I found the spot I had picked out yesterday. Last week I wrote that Red was not being very responsible on retrieving the ducks I dropped while hunting the northern Wisconsin opener. Between this hunt and last weeks, I worked with Red on my pond and she was flawless.
   Today not only did Red Retrieve the first duck that I dropped, a hen wood duck, she swam to an island and found the it in very dense willows and bought it to my hand after a very lengthy retrieve.
   Not saying that we are past that bump in the road, but certainly on the right path.
   Each year at about 11ish everyone comes to camp and laughs a lot and tells their stories. Other than Travis Dushek and his good buddy Andrew Krizan there were not a whole lot of duck whacking stories. These guys got here on Thursday, did some serious scouting and it paid off. This afternoon Trav and Andrew invited my nephews Trent and Riley Schuster along with "Captain" Troy Ringelstetter and Trent's golden Ivy to follow them to paradise.
   The boys had a great hunt with ducks and a goose and it was very nice to see the "we did some whacking" look on their faces tonight.
   As been the norm since my dad, the late Robert Walters started this hunt, Saturday night was even more fun than Friday and I guarantee you this, if mankind still exists next October, this gang will be camping on the Mississippi, laughing and hopefully shooting ducks!

   Live large while you can!

   Sunset