Cast & Blast on the Brazos

Cast & Blast on the Brazos 

by Owen Steinle

The drive from Fredericksburg to Aquilla, TX was unexpectedly serene. Unfortunately, prior to the trip, my 2010 Toyota 4Runner was decommissioned due to the infamous “Death Wobble”. 

Barreling down country roads through the Texas hill country and into the flatlands up North, I drove my mom’s Honda Passport - packed to the gills with decoys, an inflatable kayak, camping gear, guns, a fly rod, and a YETI cooler filled with water, Miller Lite, and jalapeno cheddar Nilgai sausage. I pulled into the drop-in spot, locally referred to as “Dick’s Place”, and began blowing  up my kayak. The guy whose land I was parked on, Jeffery, came out to introduce his terrier mix, Lexi, and collect the $25 drop-in fee I owed him. 

“Your friends dropped hours ago. What’s your plan?” he asked.

“Paddle upstream until I see them.”

“You know how far they are?”

“No sir.”

“Well, alright. Sign this waiver and have fun.”

My kayak was a two seater, but with the amount of gear I was hauling, I could barely fit. Or see for that matter as it was past sundown (maybe 7:00pm). I turned on Athens 1998 and started paddling. Maybe thirty seconds in, I realized that my kayak had two plugs…and the back one was open. Turned around, unloaded the boat, drained the boat, re-packed the boat, 7:30pm now.

Paddling up the Brazos in the dark was therapeutic. There’s hardly any light pollution out there, so most of the time I was just looking up. About 20 minutes in, I was saying a quick prayer, thanking God for the opportunity to be able to do something like this and I saw a shooting star. That was sweet. The ending solo of Diner had turned into Walkin’ For Your Love, so I knew it had been about 40 solid minutes of paddling. Finally, I saw the camp. I started hollering so they knew I was there as I didn’t have a light.

I pulled up, soaking wet, to the boys cooking up some chicken tacos. I didn’t wear my waders while kayaking for a reason I still do not know, so I was soaked. Within minutes of meeting 3 of these guys for the first time, I was buck naked changing into dry clothes. Nice first impression. We spent the next few hours hanging by the fire as gusts of cold wind began to roll in. As the wind came, so did the final two guys joining the hunt. There were eight of us in total.

We went to bed early for a 4:30am wake-up call the following morning. At about 2am, the wind came. From that moment, till 6pm the next day, the wind sustained at least 20mph and gusted to 45mph. So we woke up, got layers and camo on, packed the canoes, and began to drag them up river. No shot we were paddling through this stiff North wind. Myself, King, Hoop, and Colton walked until we found a spot that looked good. I laid out the 10 decoys I brought and we built a sweet blind into the river bank. There was enough room for the four of us to lay down inside. Shooting light was at 7am, and the only ducks we saw that morning flew by at 6:48. Nice. We packed it up at about 8:30am and headed back to make coffee and breakfast. 

The menu: Eggs, Nilgai chili, instant coffee, grape Uncrustables, Pillsbury biscuits. Once we ate up, Hagen, Colten and I began talking. Hoop, King, the Lucke brothers, and the other guy whose name I’m forgetting, had gone down for naps. We decided to ‘Lewis and Clark it’ for the rest of the day, taking two canoes and loading them with fishing gear, guns, decoys, water, Miller Lite, apples, almond butter, and Uncrustables. For the next few hours, we just walked upstream, listening to Bob Seger and casting at each laydown we saw. Hagen caught a bass quickly. Colton followed it up with a tiny bass on his Orvis 8wt. About 2 miles upstream, we were eating some apples and almond butter and low and behold, Hoop was walking up in full camo, carrying two decoys and his Benelli. The last time we saw him was 5 hours ago, going to take a nap. He was now rested and motivated to shoot some ducks. He stopped to say hello and then kept on trucking. We kept on fishing and I caught a slab Sunfish on my Sage 4wt - fun fight.

At about 5:30pm, we heard shots from Hoop’s direction. We saw some ducks spook in his area, so we gave him a call.

“That’s an awful lot of steel going up. Tell me you got one.”

“DRAKEEEEE MALLLLLARDDDDDD BABYYYYYY (his first)”

Huge. Especially after the morning skunk. We waited for Hoop to head back down river to join us with the canoes. We went back to camp, each of us having caught a fish and one duck down. The other 5 welcomed us with a fire that had gone out and a question, “What’s for dinner?” 

Dinner was massive. Baked potatoes, a boat load of pork, ranch style beans, Hoop’s singular duck breast, Nilgai sausage, Pillsbury cinnamon rolls, and homemade Rice Krispy treats. Going to bed was pretty easy after all that and a muscle relaxer. Hoop and I had moved our tent into a protected bank away from the wind. Early to bed again, this time for a 4am wake-up. 

We had to get up earlier because Hoop’s Spot, as it was now called, was another 2 miles up river. King, Hoop, Hagen, Colton, and I got the canoes loaded and began the walk. It wasn’t bad since the wind had died down. Plus, we were finally seeing ducks. We pulled up, built a blind, set the spread, and sat. Before 9am we had fired 23 shots. 11 ducks down. Not the best accuracy percentage there, but who cares. 11 ducks in one hunt on Texas public land this season is legit, so we were stoked. 

We hopped in the two canoes and headed back to camp. The other three had already headed out, so we breasted the 11 and packed up camp. The ride back was ten times easier. My inflatable kayak was screaming downstream, so I was able to stand and take a few more casts with the 4wt. I wasn’t able to connect on one last fish, but whatever. The sun was out. The wind was down. We had some duck breast. We smelled like crap. 

What a weekend.