Ending the Curse

By Ryan Cook
Zink Calls

Everybody has their favorite species of waterfowl, that one bird that you would do anything to get. Although I am a died in the wool goose man, I have to admit that for me, the drake Redhead has always been one of my biggest waterfowl goals. I have been hunting the Indiana rivers and gravel pits for almost 20 years but for one reason or another, it just has never happened for me. Over the years of my hunting career, I bet I have only seen 4 or 5 Redheads in my life. Sure, I have heard from other guys in the Indiana hunting circles say that "some guy I know" had killed one, or the usual "Oh yea, we have been killing a few Redheads this year." But for me, it seemed that I was just cursed. It was one of those things I forced out of my mind because I never saw that particular bird in this area of Indiana very often and I was convinced that someday, I was going to have to travel out of state somewhere to get my Redhead.

The morning of January 8th was looking like it was going to be one of those days, when I met Brad Ham and Donnie Cole at the boat ramp, the temp on my rearview read 4 degrees above. The boat ramp was covered in ice and just getting the boat in the water was going to be a nightmare. With almost an hour boat ride lying ahead, I knew the wind was going to be brutal. I was starting to ask myself if this was really going to be worth all the hassle? On the other hand, it seemed like every time we put in the effort to get through the harsh conditions, we seemed to be rewarded for our effort. The steel gray clouds brought daylight in slowly, the birds we had been hunting were sitting tight on the roost and seemed content just to sit with their heads tucked up under their wings, not that I blamed them. I was sitting there thinking that if I had a wing, I guarantee I would have my head tucked under it! With such little activity on the river, all three of us concentrated on staying warm and just sat there in silence. I was sitting there daydreaming with my neck gator puled up as far as I could get it when I heard a very strange comment from Donnie Cole at the other end of the blind, "Redhead!" I panicked, trying to find the bird when something off to my right caught my attention. A drake Redhead was quickly winging it's way across the decoys to my side. I instinctively pulled the Benelli to my shoulder. In one quick motion, I swung the gun ahead of the bird and at about 35 yards, pulled the trigger. When I saw the bird collapse in mid-air, I almost lost my breath. After almost 20 years, I had taken the bird I had wanted more than any other. I owe a lot of credit to Donnie Cole for being alert enough to call it out. Considering my luck on these birds, it may well have flown in and out without my even noticing it. As Donnie later said, "I guess I'm owed one." Although this season hasn't been one of our better seasons as for as numbers of birds killed, every time I look at the mount of the Redhead I will remember that day, and how it took some real teamwork and effort to break the curse!!!!!!!!!