Wes Smalling

Star-Tribune Outdoor Editor

Nothing like trying to hit a twisting, turning, lighter-than-one-pound rocket when you haven't fired a shot at a bird that's flying full-tilt since December.

That was me, a little rusty on the opening morning of duck season, shooting up almost an entire box of shells missing teal after teal as they zipped past my decoys like fighter squadrons of Japanese Zeros.

Teal are great. Those little ducks are a good time.

Although they're kind of the airheads of the duck world - not incredibly bright little fellows - teal are among the first ducks to fly south in the fall so you can usually count on them to bring plenty of early season action.

Man, they're small targets especially when you're a bit out of practice. Although they're quick, teal are actually not as fast as mallards. Their rapid wingbeats just make them look like they're always in a hurry. And, annoyingly, they don't fly straight or make big sweeping turns and gentle landings. They make erratic twists and turns in mid-air, diving low then soaring up in tight bunches. You usually hear them before you see them coming. Their wings cutting through the air make a buzzing noise and, next thing you know, there's 10 or 20 of them ripping through the sky right in front of you.

At least they're decisive. They either come crashing right into your decoys or they don't. They aren't cautious like mallards, which like to make a circling pass or two teasing you just out of gun range overhead so they can take a peek at what might be lurking in the bushes next to the pond. Not teal - when they want into your decoys nothing's going to stop them. You could light off fireworks and they'd still fly in. And they don't make those nice graceful landings like mallards do. They come swooping onto the water, rudely crashing the duck party with a sudden splashy entrance.

At least they don't drive me crazy like pintails. The most maddeningly indecisive of ducks, pintails will circle high in the air for 20 minutes until they finally make up their fickle little duck minds which side of the pond they like. Teal either skate right into your decoys (usually while you're taking a sip of coffee or not paying attention in some other way), or they buzz by on their way to someplace else, giving you just enough time to waste three shells of expensive steel ammo shooting nothing but holes in the sky.

By 9 a.m., I'd burned through more than half of my shells and had no ducks. But then I redeemed myself by calling in a couple of mallards and dropping 'em both. So there will be pan-seared duck with wild rice and red wine served for dinner at my house this week.

The opening weeks of duck season are the best. Teal and wood ducks are still hanging around, and mallards are starting to arrive with the first few spells of cold weather. And even better, almost everybody else is still out hunting antelope, so I usually get my duck hunting spots to myself for a few weeks.

Have fun with them prairie goats, fellas. The pond is all mine … for a little while anyway.