Devils' Eyes

It’s canny how some of my most memorable outdoor experiences have been last minute operations.
Once again, a last minute trip was planned for Devil’s Lake while I was at work. When I got done at 9 o’clock pm I packed up my fishing gear and forgot about everything else going on in my life. My partners in crime for this adventure were Dave Easton and his high school Ian, from Colorado.
Light rain sprinkled our windshield as we roared down Highway 2 in Dave’s Jeep. The drive went as smoothly as it could have and we landed at Gramm’s Island campground a little before 11.
We found the camp office closed, so we stretched our luck and went looking for an open campsite. There was a nice open spot by the lake and we decided we would settle up with the park officials in the morning.
Ian and Dave pitched the small two-man tent they had brought as I organized the boat for the morning. After we finished, we talked about the outline for the morning. A ten-minute conversation ensued before the three of us could compromise on our game plan. Everyone has to voice an opinion or experience before a decision is ever made. We finally agreed that we would wake up at seven and start by fishing the trees in about ten feet of water. We had heard reports that fisherman were having success under these conditions. Since we were all on the same page, we decided to do what we do best – enjoy a few beverages over good conversation.
I woke up uncomfortable at seven to my cell phone alarm; I had slept in Dave’s Jeep because of lack of tent room. I turned off my cell phone and tried to go back to sleep. About eight o’clock I woke the guys up and we proceeded to make our way to the bait shop. We picked up some leeches, settled our tab with the park officials and put down a cup of coffee. After that it was time to launch Dave’s sixteen-foot Lund into the ever growing plain of water.
We started to fish the trees with slip bobbers and were having no success at all. None of the other boats around us were catching fish either. I started to pitch a countdown and immediately caught a decent sized pike. The wind picked up from the West and rain began to fall softly from the cloudy sky. That was when we decided to switch to trolling.
I put on a minnow-colored Shad Rap as we began our troll along the outside of the trees in twelve to fifteen feet of water. Within fifty yards I easily landed a nice eater sized walleye and placed him in the live well. After that we picked up two more fifteen inchers in the next one hundred yards of the troll.
Next Ian caught about the smallest eye’ I have ever seen. The fish was seriously only six inches long. Laughs were had all around and the fish was quickly released into the water.
The troll continued and we fought our way through; a school of white bass, one small pike and two twenty inch eyes’.
We were feeling pretty good about our success when Ian hooked into a big fish. Right off the bat the fish did not fight much but sat heavy on Ian’s seven-foot Ugly Stick. The fish stayed deep as Ian coaxed it towards the boat and I was hoping it was a big walleye. Once the fish got close to the boat it began to go off on drag ripping runs. My heart sank a little; I knew it was fighting like a pike. Ian boated the Northern after the awesome fight. The fish measured 31 inches, about seven to eight pounds. After a couple snap shots Ian released the fish back into the dark water. Not a bad fish, especially since it was only the second Northern Pike Ian had ever landed.
After that we hit the trees again with bobbers, trying to finish out our daily limits of eyes. I was just thinking to myself how I hadn’t missed a fish yet when my bobber slipped below the surface. Of course I set the hook too soon and missed the fish. I love the finesse it takes to catch a walleye on a slip bobber. Isn’t it funny how once you think you have everything figured out you discover you don’t?
Not too long after that the three of us were consistently catching fish till we had our limits. With hunger setting in we headed back to Gramm’s Island against the mighty waves of Devil’s Lake. Our fish totals for the morning were nineteen walleyes, three pike and two white bass.
We headed back towards Grand Forks with thunderheads on the horizon. There wasn’t much conversation on the ride home, all three of us were reflecting to ourselves. It then occurred to me we had partaken in a great little trip.
It is always good to get out and experience the outdoors, even if it is only for a night and the morning. Gramm’s Island is setup for sportsman and I would encourage anyone to go there and experience Devil’s Lake. Most of the local bait shops can provide you with either maps or directions to various parts of the lake. Just remember, it’s like the old guy at the boat landing said to us, “This ain’t no farm pond, son.”

Goose Calls are My Weakness

I started blowing a short-reed goose call about six years ago. At that time I was just one a few goose hunters I knew that actually blew one. It took me almost a full year until I felt really comfortable on a short-reed. At the time I felt like mastering my Big Guys Best “Fat Boy” was the biggest accomplishment of my short life. For years I had been hunting geese using a flute call. Recently my world has been crashing down around me as I have realized everyone and their grandmother can now blow a short-reed goose call.
I am always in the market for a new goose call. Either it is my human urge to never be satisfied, or a simple weakness that has gripped me along with a passion for goose hunting. Whenever I am at a sporting goods store I have to sample the goose calls. I am always looking for a deal and have found some good ones through friends, several retail stores and websites.
One of my college roommates used to buy and sell goose calls on E-bay like a day-trader on Wall Street. He had several lanyards full of calls before he realized that goose calls were not the most liquid and profitable investment. Still he managed to buy low and sell high, and to this day owns more calls then anybody else I hunt with.
One question that often comes up in the world of short reed goose calling is acrylic vs. wood. Personally I try to have an acrylic and a wood call on my lanyard when I take to the field. Typically, I use the acrylic to get the attention of the geese at vast distances, and then use the wood call for softer clucks and moans when the geese are close. There are many different types of wood short-reed goose calls and many of them are almost as loud as acrylic.
Some waterfowl calls have a wooden barrel and acrylic inserts. Like the Foiles Straight Meat “Spec” Call and the Big Guys Best “Death Whistle” duck call. These calls combine the soft tones of the wood with the volume of the acrylic. Short-reed goose calls are versatile by nature, allowing hunters to mimic the many different sounds of the Canada goose.
I have been encouraging my dad to switch from the long-goose caller or flute to the short-reed, but he does not have the time to change. Many older hunters are stuck in their ways or do not have efficient time to learn how to call geese on a short-reed. Although it is not the rule, goose hunting seems to be a passion of the younger generations. I believe this correlation comes from goose populations exploding within the last two decades.
Goose flutes will continue to have their place in goose hunting even though most of the younger waterfowl hunters begin their goose calling on short-reeds. For example, I have found that when hunting geese over water the mellow tones of a flute can be highly effective. Flutes can also serve a niche when hunting geese that are highly pressured by hunters, almost all of which call at them with short-reeds. For hunters who may have begun their goose hunting on short-reeds, an easy transition flute to try is the Foiles Meatcutter Flute.
The last couple years Minnesota has been establishing a Michael Jordan and the Chicago Bulls type dynasty in the world of goose hunting; leading the nation in goose harvest for the last decade. In 2004 and 2005 Minnesota hunters harvested more Canada geese than mallards, shooting roughly 234,000 Canada geese in 2004.
Today there are many talented goose callers across the nation. Some compete in contests, building their trophy and plaque collections. Others only call geese in the field, collecting memories and leg bands. These goose hunters all have the same common goal; mastering the clucks, moans and honks of the wild goose, to fool geese.