Lake Sakejawea is located in northwestern North Dakota and is a large lake formed in the Missouri river. It’s named after a Indian woman that guided Lewis and Clark along their famous journey to find the pathway to the west. The lake is largely known for its big walleyes in spring and summer, huge pike in the fall and plentiful perch through the ice. But the area also is home to large quantities of ducks. The lake itself is big and intimidating but there are tons of potholes and sloughs to hunt ducks in. I will leave the lake to the diehard fisherman and search the country side for ducks.

As we headed north out of Bismarck North Dakota I noticed a small heard of Antelope. "Pretty cool eh", I said to my Dad and brother in law Bob. Then after looking over a couple herds of mule deer we started to see what we came here for.

The farther north we headed we began to see the reason this place is called the duck factory. As we passed the endless potholes dotting this prairie we looked at ducks in nearly every body of water. Our adrenaline was really pumping as we got close to the lodge.

We had booked our stay with Lund’s Landing, mainly a fishing operation with several comfortable cabins located on the shores of Lake Sakejawea in northwestern North Dakota.

About thirty miles from the lodge we noticed a nice slough with hundreds of ducks landing, taking off, and resting. Although it would be a little bit of a drive back here, at least we had found a spot that wasn’t posted and had no other hunters.

This was our first time in North Dakota and after all we heard, we figured there would be a duck hunter on every pothole. On the contrary, we hunted the third week of the duck season (no non-residents allowed on opening week, and the pheasant season wasn’t open until the third week) and never saw another hunter. Granted we weren’t in the over crowded area of Devils lake but in the far reaches of the Missouri river in northwestern North Dakota. Although this area was a little farther of a drive, it was well worth it to get away from the crowds and hunt ducks that weren’t as spooky as those more east.

After driving all night we arrived at the lodge at noon. After unpacking, having a brief meeting with the owner of Lund’s landing and letting the dogs out, we were anxious to get out scouting. Although we were on a do it yourself hunt, the owner did mark some promising spots on the map.

The guys with me on the hunt included my Dad, my brother Ryan, my brother in law Bob and friends Larry, Skip, and Kenny. We all met outside and discussed our scouting plans. Bob and I headed back to the slough we had seen earlier. After making sure the land we wanted to hunt wasn’t posted, we drove down a two track used by the farmer to get within a couple hundred yards of the water.

At two o’clock pm we climbed out of the truck, looked out at the pothole with binoculars and glassed hundreds of ducks resting out on a pothole just off the main slough. Although we were suppose to be scouting, and after finding a spot to hunt, we were to come back to the lodge and pick up Dad, as he was taking a nap. We just couldn’t leave without popping a few ducks first. We thought we could sneak up there, shoot a few birds and still be back at the lodge by three o’clock to pick up Dad. "As soon as they see us they’re going to flush, never to return" I said to Bob. So we decided to put the old sneak on them.

The grass was only one to two feet high and at least two hundred yards to the pothole. We could crouch down and kind of duck walk a hundred yards or so, but then we would have to crawl the last hundred yards. Halfway there we were second guessing our decision when I noticed two large swans on the edge of the pond. They sat up a lot higher than the ducks and would surely see us before the ducks would. If they spook the ducks, we will have ruined our knees for nothing. We crouched lower and kept going. My dog Xena had jump shot before with me, but never for this long of a crawl. She kind of stayed down with us kind of imitating us crawling. She was a little confused but didn’t mind as she occasionally licked my face on the way.

The wind was blowing right at us, about ten to fifteen miles an hour. Perfect for a sneak. Although ducks do take off into the wind, if they spook and flush, at least half of the time they will swing over and take a look at what scared them, offering a possible shot. The main reason to sneak into the wind is to hide the noise you make. A good stiff wind will break up the crunching and scuffling noises made from crawling through dead grass and cattails. If the ducks do flush before you’re within range, you simply wait for them to return or pass shoot them as they fly over.

We arrived thirty yards before the pothole and because the wind was blowing at us, Xena began smelling all the duck scent from the pothole full of ducks. She started to jump up nearly walking on her two hind legs. I had to pull her down into the grass next to me and she let out a wine. Just then, the swan’s heads stuck straight up, peering into the grass. I told Bob "were going to have to take them from here, those damn swans are going to flush". Bob said "ok, let’s do it". "Ready,,,,, let’s get them". As we stood up the swans flushed and the ducks began to get up, fifty at a time. The guns were emptied, and reloaded as the afternoon sky filled with ducks. After the pothole emptied, the ducks that were still in the area almost immediately began circling back. After a couple water swats to finish the cripples, I looked down at Xena and thought "wow" enough is enough. What a breaking test. There lay seven ducks in the pothole, three or four still splashing around. It probably took every thing the dog had in her not to lose control and break (leave without being told to). She retrieved four gadwall, two widgeon and a green wing teal through the six inch deep water. The mud slowed her down making the retrieve a hell of a work out.

We quickly picked up and left hurrying back to the lodge to pick up Dad. We arrived at 3:30pm, about a half hour late. He had left with the other guys on a scouting trip. And we decided to head back to the pothole to finish our daily limit.

We carried a dozen land silhouettes towards the mud flat next to the pothole we planned on hunting. This time, there would be no stalk. "Lets just walk over there and set up" I said to Bob. "What if they leave" Bob replied. "Hopefully they’ll come back before close". As we walked onto the mud flat next to the pothole literally hundreds of ducks began taking to the sky. The birds being mostly gadwall, widgeon and a few teal flew just a couple hundred yards over to the next pothole. They really didn’t even seem to be concerned by our presents, and if the dog hadn’t been running around they probably wouldn’t even have flushed until within shooting range.

While setting up the land silhouettes the ducks began to return. Although they did come back and saw us setting up, they still landed, but out of shotgun range. Soon others began trickling back, and in less than a half hour we had five more ducks completing our twelve bird limit.

The scouting trip turned into a great duck shoot and in the process we had noticed the mallards preferred the original slough we had come to hunt. The next day we would be after them.

After returning to the lodge we got all the birds together and some of us cleaned birds while others cooked dinner. After dinner we had our nightly meeting over a few drinks, discussed our scouting trip and made plans for the next days duck blast. This ended up to be the typical program every day.

The next day found us back at the slough but not in the same pothole we had previously hunted. We brought out my Dad and his buddy Skip to hunt that pothole while Bob and I hunted a couple hundred yards away in the area we saw the mallards land the previous day. This way, if the ducks did jump potholes after getting shot at, they might go at the other guy’s area giving them a chance.

This would be Xena’s last outing on this trip. During the morning’s shoot she had obtained three fairly serious cuts from breaking ice to retrieve fallen birds. Luckily I also had with me my 8 year old seasoned male, Buster.

When the morning slowed because of warm weather and sunny skies the four of us headed in with six mallards, four gadwall and a widgeon. Not bad for these first time North Dakota duck slayers on a do it yourselfer.

Since we just needed a couple ducks for a daily limit we scouted an area the owner of the lodge said he had seen quite a few mallards in. It was a large marsh/slough in the shape of a four hundred acre hour glass. We hiked about two hundred yards into the marsh towards the skinniest part of the hour glass. The water was choked with grass and Lilly pads and decoys wouldn’t do us much good. There were small islands of cattails to hide in and we guessed right by setting up in the middle of the hourglass shaped slough for a semi pass shoot. I call it semi because we did call to get the ducks right on top of us. Most of the birds moving back and forth came within spitting distance of my shotgun. Soon we were on our way back to the lodge with another limit.

I woke up to the sound of gale force winds early the next morning. I went outside to relieve myself and thought we were in the arctic. The temperature had dropped and I was second guessing even going hunting. Dad, Bob, Ryan, Larry, Kenny and Skip all climbed out of the sack and looked outside. Dad, Skip and Kenny decided to sleep in. Bob asked "well". I said "the wind brings the ducks, lets go".

We split up on the new chosen slough we had found the day before, Ryan and Larry hunted the shore and Bob and I hunted the middle of the hour glass again. Even though the wind (40-50mph) and cold (20 degrees) made it tough, we managed a dozen ducks in about an hour. The wind didn’t necessarily bring the ducks, but it sure put them on the move. After a headless green wing teal shot and an unbelievable retrieve on a beautiful three curl drake mallard out at three hundred yards by my retriever Buster we headed out.

Later that day we decided to try a little pheasant hunting. The problem was, we were to close to water to concentrate on Chinese chickens when we could barely here each other talk over the chatter of a couple thousand mallard ducks. Yes our pheasant hunt quickly turned into a mallard hunt. We did manage to kick up a hen pheasant, but after shooting the rest of our limit of mallards we decided to head in.

Bob and I went to the truck busted out a can of beer and watched the sunset over the prairie as we waited for Dad and Skip to return to the truck.

Instead of hunting the next day we had decided to sleep in and be fresh for our long drive back to Wisconsin. We even whacked a couple sharptail grouse and a rooster pheasant while walking to the sloughs during the week. We headed back during a snowstorm in the morning and as we left saw four large mule deer next to the road. It was almost the perfect good bye to a great hunt.

Try the lake Sakejawea area of potholes, the locals seem to treasure there sharptail, pheasants and mule deer but permission is granted nearly everywhere for ducks.

BACK TO WATERFOWL

BACK HOME