It has many names such as Mud, The Mud Puddle, The Puddle, The Mud Hole, and The Duck Ministry. I refer to it as my church and home for 60 days. It's an ancient place with cypress trees as big around as small foreign cars. Prehistoric fish such as grinnel and alligator gar thrive in this 7 acre oxbow lake. It's a place where crappie pop the surface of the water every day of the year, where bald eagles frequent in winter months, and a turkeys yelp can be heard almost every morning. But, most importantly it's a place where ducks have been coming for thousands of years. Mud is a powerful place where the strength of mother nature can be seen. An oxbow lake by definition is a lake that was created when a river changed it's flow over the course of time. In the eyes of ordinary people not much has happened here in the last 400 years but I know better, things can change here in a matter of seconds. A morning here is a peek into a world that is fading into the past. There is a second, when a north wind grabs the attention of a group of mallards in the northern reaches of Canada. It sets them on a path to the Dakotas for a short delay and on into southeastern Missouri, where on any given day of the season their brains tell them to venture a little further. They have a snack before leaving at first light and then cross the border of northern Arkansas at around seven in the morning. This leads them down the White river, which is a path that has been followed by thousands of generations of ducks. At 9:15 they cross over the Clarendon bridge at an altitude familiar to most airline pilots. The river beneath them begins to converge with many other rivers up stream. They lower their altitude to get a better look at this vast expanse of hardwood bottoms below them. Suddenly the river takes a sharp bend back to the north, the ducks not wanting to change direction are forced over a section of land where they look out to see open water. At this moment they fragment from their defined v-shape as they move in for a closer look. From a human perspective the lake ironically resembles the shape of a human stomach; to ducks it looks like a perfect place to rest their wings before continuing their long journey. I see the ducks approaching and give them a couple soft greeting calls, sometimes that is enough and other times it takes more convincing. Once I have their attention a game begins that only duck callers can relate too. A cat and mouse game, one of strategic timing where every note counts. The ducks get lower and lower when finally they set up for their final approach. This is where a balance of mother nature and her chaos combine with the grace of a working flock of mallards to create a moment of epic proportions. Shots are fired, adrenaline is released, and retrieves are made. The cycle repeats itself.
My customers along with my guide partner Brian Pilgreen are fortunate enough to experience this numerous times during the 60 day Arkansas duck season. My goal for this blog is to provide friends, duck hunters, and those who have had the pleasure of spending one of those magic mornings in Mud lake with a way to stay connected to this incredible place. I hope to update it regularly so that people can see the progression of the 2009-2010 60 day season in Mud Lake. Hope you enjoy!
