I went to a lecture by the novelist Stephen King once. He said that his cure for the condition he experienced when a particularly ghoulish idea took possession of him was to write it down in a book or short story. That way, he got rid of it by passing it on to his readers. “Now you’ve got it – and I don’t,” he said. He smiled as he said it. Not a nice smile. So, unable to shake a few irritants any other way, I embrace the King method. Maybe you’ll catch them.

More on the subject of hunter opportunity and forcing open private lands: In a recent piece, (See Let’s Torch The Henhouse , Jan.29, 2004), I attacked the thesis of an article in the winter issue of California Waterfowl Association magazine that placed expanding hunter opportunity above the welfare of the birds, as if we could have the former without the latter. I focused on the notion that we should protect our sanctuaries rather than open them to hunting because protected sanctuaries are essential to the health of our flights, without which “hunter opportunity” becomes an academic concept. The author of the piece also took the position that private landowners should be required to open their lands to hunters, also to enhance hunter opportunity

One of the most fundamental elements of what we call “property rights” in this nation is the right to exclude others. The fact that the game belongs to the state does not change the analysis. The public has no right to cross private land to hunt or gain access to public water. The fact that ambient air belongs to no one and is regulated by the government doesn’t give random members of the public a right of access to your bedroom to breathe it.

The Fifth and Fourteenth Amendments of the U.S. Constitution protect the owner of property from physical invasion for any public purpose unless the property owner is fairly compensated. (Private invasion is, of course, trespass – a crime as well as a civil offense in most states). So without a source for the payment of such compensation, the idea of opening private lands is beyond impractical – wholly apart from the fact that no owner of wetlands would spend money to provide habitat if he knew that anyone could come onto his land and disturb the habitat that he had created. The more successful his efforts, the more likely that he would suffer such an invasion. Habitat on private lands remains critical to the birds. In short, it is difficult to imagine a more counter-productive management suggestion, well-calculated to achieve the exact opposite of its stated goal.

Everyone has the right to his or her opinions – and the First Amendment protects their right to express them. But no one has the right to have those opinions published in any particular magazine, newspaper or other medium. The editors decide what they will print. One would assume that the editors of the official organ of a waterfowl association would devote their few, precious pages to pieces that were practical and consistent with the goals of that association. Thus, the question: “What the hell is going on here?” It’s one thing to publish a controversial piece in the hopes of provoking argument. But it’s a total waste of resources to give space to specious claptrap of no practical value, well-calculated to offend many of the association’s most important members.

On the subject of varmints: I remember the days when there was a bounty on crows. Most of the national outdoor magazines featured ads for ammo with crows in the crosshairs. As a youngster growing up in Illinois, I “cashed in” on that bounty several times. Of course, the payoff rarely covered the cost of the shells expended – but I felt as though I was doing something constructive. Crows relentlessly and systematically destroy the nests of other birds, eating the eggs and killing the young. They have been observed following mallard hens to their nests to break into eggs as soon as they are laid.

We currently suffer from a plague of crows in California. Their population has exploded. In large areas of the state, they have virtually supplanted other bird populations. Clouds of them congregate over wetland nesting grounds in the spring. They have become greater pests in several towns than the European rock dove that we know as the urban pigeon – or feathered rats to many. I have seen crows in large numbers wherever I travel around the country, much more numerous and conspicuous than they have been in times past. They are now protected as a migratory bird, with a closed season for eight months out of the year. Those eight months include the springtime when crow hunting is most productive and probably most beneficial to their potential victims.

Then we have the case of the skunk, another nest raider whose numbers have burgeoned. Although skunks do not benefit from formal protection in most places, it is considered politically incorrect to eliminate them from the nesting grounds by systematic trapping and other means. And yet, when you eliminate the skunks, you see an exponential increase in broods paddling about the drainage ditches and the rice fields. Conversely, a concentration of nesting ducks attracts skunks as surely as road kill draws turkey vultures. Show me a productive nesting area in our California valleys and the next year I will show you a dramatic increase in skunk concentration – unless, of course, some local vigilante takes appropriate action on the quiet.

A debate rages among waterfowl biologists and managers concerning the effectiveness of predator control or, more precisely, the cost effectiveness of such measures. I lack the knowledge or experience to weigh in on that larger debate, although I am dedicated to such control as applied to the small property I assist in managing where the costs are minimal and the rewards significant. But the debate over predator control is not the point.

Isn’t it curious that while we have fallen into a mentality that puts a premium on hunter kill of our waterfowl, we have adopted a protective attitude toward the other predators that torment them? Does anyone else see that as a strange congruence of ideas? Paradox though it may be, one conclusion flows with crystal clarity from this collision. The birds lose. Their predators unite against them from beginning to early end.

The Arkansas Wildlife Federation Report on the decline of duck hunting in that state describes a public meeting held in the town of Brinkley as part of the authors’ fact-finding. One hunter expressed the general attitude at that meeting in these words: “Ducks are for killin,’ let us have at ‘em.”

No varmint – no crow or skunk – could have said it better. The authors could only observe: “Hopefully this was a minority perspective.” Hopefully indeed.

On the subject of February youth hunts: Another year, another round of youth hunts at or after the end of January.

A large proportion of our mallards have been paired up virtually throughout the entire season. Threesomes have also been much in evidence, the hen, her chosen mate and a second drake in waiting. By January 10 or so, it was a rare event to spot a mallard that was not flying with a mate.

The biologists who have studied the matter agree that a mallard hen typically requires up to sixty days to choose a drake – and her choice plays an important role in her ability to bring off a brood. Thus, the later in the season that we bust bonded pairs, the more potential damage we do to spring production, allowing the hen insufficient time to find a strong drake to protect her on the nesting ground. And yet, each year in recent times, we schedule two days of “youth” hunts, a week after the regular season closes -- after having extended that regular season almost to the end of January, (when we used to end it closer to the 15th and found that acceptable).

With proper preparation of the participants, youth hunts are a good idea for the future of our sport. The benefits probably justify the abuses, such as the practice followed by some “adults” of taking a kid to the blind as cover for a little post-season shooting of their own. The hunts may even be worth the added crippling loss caused by inexperienced hunters, afflicted with the trigger itch typical of the unschooled young, who have no concept of the effective range of a shotgun. Maybe these downsides are inevitable – but it is not inevitable that they should play out in that part of the seasonal cycle when they will cause the maximum damage to nesting productivity.

Why do we have our youth hunts at the end of the season when they used to be scheduled a week before the general opening, at a time well removed from the start of the nesting seasons and at a time when the participants should have a crack at easier birds? We all know the reason. The “adult” hunters complained that the early youth shoot educated some of the birds, making them more wary. So we moved youth days to the end of the season to preserve for the general shooting public first crack at the juveniles and naïve adults, in pursuit of the easy limits that hunters expect on opening day. We accept the damage inherent in February youth shoots so that the big boys can go after the birds when they are most vulnerable and enjoy a little orgy of easy kills.

Nothing unusual in this. Just another sacrifice of the long-term well-being of the sport, and the birds, for a quick fix – another example of placing “hunter opportunity” above our stewardship obligations.

The most depressing aspect of this situation to me is that it has become an accepted part of our annual ritual. I know of no one in authority at any of the major associations or any regulator who speaks out against it. I cannot imagine a more telling symptom of moral decline and abdication of our most fundamental responsibilities.

The next step, I suppose, will be to fashion some kind of award to bestow upon the young hunters who take a hen that is already carrying an egg -- perhaps a shoulder patch or medallion of some sort. We’ll get that along with the next generation of electronic, mechanical decoying devices or laser assisted shotgun sights. Coming soon to the sports emporium near you.