MY PERSONAL LIFETIME EXPERIENCE OF CONCERTS AND MORE

By Bob Zettler

July 28, 2024

Led Zeppelin, Chicago Stadium, April 9, 1977.

(NOTE: I started writing this three months ago. Please forgive typos but let me know what you discovered.)

I continue to read posts and comments about rock bands we’ve seen and how they were. Now I’m from Champaign, Illinois, and that’s not exactly the Mecca for concerts – at least back in the late 60s, 1970s and even the 1980s. However, I did see a few there at the Assemby Hall, Red Lion Inn, a number of local bars on campus and around town, and then a bunch more later on in 1985 at Memorial Stadium.

And during my “formative” years, I lived in the East Bay area of California across from San Francisco, and then in San Antonio, Texas while in the USAF; 1973 and then 1974-1975, respectively. And, as such, saw and “experienced” a bunch of bands. And only God knows all of them as things seem to fade over time....

And, I just recalled that I even went to concerts and did reviews while at Parkland College from late 1975 through 1977 after I got out of the USAF. I remember Led Zepplin and…well I will add them to the list below. And, now (again) I probably went to concerts at SIU-C too. Man oh man, this just keeps growing!

However, the Internet can be your friend and there are now websites out the wazoo that provide snapshots on concert venues, group’s history, and the like that can assist one to try and remember what they forgot – and I am that such person!

The operative word is “TRY” as I have painfully discovered after hours of searching, comparing dates, venues and bands, that they are certainly not complete and even some are flat out inaccurate. Case in point. I was at the Armadillo World Headquarters in Austin for one of the best concerts I have experienced. There were at least three groups, including the Charlie Daniel’s Band, the Marshall Tucker Band and the original Lynyrd Skynyrd. Can’t find the date but it was either 1974 or 1975. And then I simply can’t find a concert that I consider one of the worst I ever “experienced” from I seem to recall in Champaign. They seemed to me to be a combination of Jethro Tull or B, S and T. But all I can recall is how bad their stage presence was in my opinion. But I don’t have a name and the Assembly Hall doesn’t list them from before February 1973. It’s enough to drive you batty!!

While not comprehensivee or complete, as there are gaps and lapses, I hope to have captured for posterities sake, most of those concerts I “experienced” from around 1969 to probably 1986.

WHOOPS! Here I am editing this introduction as WORD deleted it all and I couldn’t recover it but this reminded me of several other concerts I actually went to during that time period in St. Louis and Chicago. Now I’ll add them and I’ll probably continue to update, edit, delete, correct, etc., as memories or friends remind me of past “experiences.” You just have to understand that I am trying to share some of my life here. So here I go!

CHAMPAIGN, ST.LOUIS, CHICAGO and ????? 1969 to 1972 and 1975 to Today? – Assembly Hall, Red Lion Inn, Memorial Stadium, Panama Reds, Mabels, Chances R, United Center, Checkerdome etc.

The Kinks (new 8/12/24)

Romantics (new 8/12/24)

Blood, Sweat and Tears

The Byrds

Ten Years After

The Moody Blues

Chuck Berry

Jethro Tell

Rolling Stones

B.B. King

Ike & Tina Turner

Terry Reid

REO Speedwagon

Yes

Tormato?

ZZ Top 

Atlanta Rhythm Section

Led Zeppelin

Starcastle 

Head East

Chicago

One Eyed Jack’s

Pork and the Havana Ducks

Neil Diamond 

Neil Sedaka

Captain and Tenille

Dan Fogelberg

Iron Butterfly

FARM AID 1985 (I had to dig deep on this one as several “good” websites did not list everyone.)

Alabama, Hoyt Axton, The Beach Boys, The Blasters, Bon Jovi, Jimmy Buffett, Glen Campbell, Johnny Cash, David Allan Coe, John Conlee, Charlie Daniels Band, John Denver, Bob Dylan, John Fogerty, Foreigner, Vince Gill, Vern Gosdin, Arlo Guthrie, Sammy Hagar, Merle Haggard, Daryl Hall, Emmylou Harris, Don Henley, Waylon Jennings, Billy Joel, Randy Newman, George Jones, Rickie Lee Jones, B.B. King, Carole King, Kris Kristofferson, Huey Lewis, Lone Justice, Loretta Lynn, Roger McGuinn, John Mellencamp, Roger Miller, Joni Mitchell, Nitty Gritty Dirt Band, Willie Nelson, Roy Orbison, Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers, Charley Pride, Bonnie Raitt, Lou Reed, Kenny Rogers, Brian Setzer, Sissy Spacek, Tanya Tucker, Eddie Van Halen, Debra Winger, Neil Young, Dave Milsap, Joe Ely, Judy Rodman, X

CALIFORNIA 1973 at Winterland, Oakland Coliseum, Kezar Stadium, Keystone Berkeley, Berkeley Square, Cow Palace, Berkeley Community Theater, Paramount Theater, The Long Branch, Crows Nest and more.

Beach Boys

Steely Dan

Dan Hicks and His Hot Licks

Slade

Led Zeppelin

Roy Harper

The Tubes

Lee Michaels

Yes

Poco

Focus

The Kinks

Mason Proffit

Jesse Collin Young

Santana

The J. Geils Band

Steve Miller Band

King Crimson

Blue

Dr. John the Night Tripper

Boz Skaggs

Humble Pie

San Antonio, Austin, etc., Texas, January 1974 through November 1975 – Alamo Dome/Convention Center, Marbach ?sp?) Saloon, Texas Theater, Laurie Auditorium, Armadillo World Headquarters, Memorial Stadium (University of Texas in Austin) and Municipal Auditorium IN San Antonio

Ten Years After

Lynyrd Skynyrd

Joe Walsh

Van Morrison

Johnny Winter

Jeff Beck

Gordon Lightfoot

Kiss

The Guess Who

Wet Willie

Point Blank

Triumph

Fog Hat

Montrose

Black Sabath

REO Speedwagon

Emerson, Lake and Palmer

Grand Funk 

Rare Earth (twice)

Cactus

Trapeze

Blue Oyster Cult

Rod Stewart

Too Smooth

Bloodrock

Edgar Winter

Climax Blues Band

Leslie West

Foghat

Thee image

Fleetwood Mack

Rick Wakeman

ZZ Top

Ted Nugent 

Rat Madness

Joe Cocker

Jerry Jeff Walker

Jay Boy Adams

Todd Rundgren

Ramiro Ceverra

Loggins & Messina

Cate Brothers

Gentle Giant

Steve Miller Band

Boz Scaggs

The Charlie Daniel’s Band

The Marshall Tucker Band

Peter Frampton

Elvin Bishop

Leon Russell

Brownsville Station

Queen

Bad Company

T-Rex

ADDENDUM

An interesting but related aside. RIght now I cannot recall which date it was (either 1983 or 1984) but the Celtics were in the NBA Playoffs against the Milwaukee Bucks and the team was staying at the same hotel (adjacent to the arena where they played) where I was attending an Occupational Health meeting as part of my job as Patient Services Manager for the Christie Clinic in Champaign, Illinois. I was either 30 or 31 at the time and had never been involved in any kind of sports other than the outdoor activities of hunting and fishing, which consumed me even back then.

Anyway, our Health meetings were over shortly after 4 PM, and I didn't know anyone else there at tthe time, so I was on my own to make dinner plans and socialize the rest of the night. So, I decided to hit the mezzanine bar overlooking the courtyard inside the hotel and introduced myself to others gathered barside. 

Now I was a loner, not so much by choice but by personality it seems. No, I'm not a bad person, I'm just someone back then who had a difficult time making small talk with others (you wouldn't believe that nowadays). And while there many other business men and women there in their suits and dresses, I ended up getting to know the other odd-man out there who just happened to be a member of the Rock Group Molly Hatchet out of Florida. And as luck would have it, he too loved to hunt and fish as much I did and still try to.

We spent several hours sharing stories and had a great time but as it was dark outside and he had a concert to play at the MECCA and I hadn't ate, we paid our tabs and split. 

Funny aside about that. As he pulled his wallet out to pay, an unsmoked joint fell onto the counter and he said, "Gosh, I wonder where that came from," with a twinkle in his eye and a chuckle.

So, while not a concert, it was related!

https://texasarchive.org/2013_02397

 

   

   

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The Three D's, or, carry some PVC

By Bob Zettler

June 19, 2024

 

Summer is upon us today and it’s a heat wave for the foreseeable future…a really hot one they say.  We just passed Memorial Day where our fallen members of the Armed Forces were honored and July 4^th is just around the corner.

And those of us who fish the waters here in Illinois and across the USA know a couple of things:

• People drink more alcohol during these times, and
• There are more idiots behind the wheel or on the tiller of boats out there no matter where you are.

It’s a game of survival out there.  First off many fishermen leave before sunrise for their favorite destination and this time the odds increase that your trip could leave you injured, incapacitated, or worse, deceased from one of the “D’s”.  What are these three “D’s” I speak of?

Well, I chose that expression many years ago during one of my many late night, early morning drives where I was headed out hunting somewhere.  They are:

• Drunks
• Deer, and
• DUMBASSES.

Drunks.  Here it is sometimes as early as 3 AM, and even earlier, where I am headed to my destination in southern Illinois, Northern Illinois and places in between. And what happens in some communities at either 2 AM or 3 AM? The bars close, and, you guessed it, a bunch of Drunks hit the road just  as you either could collide with one  or take a more scenic route trying to avoid…

Deer. What more can be said as these denizen of the darkness love to graze on either side of the roadway during the night, or, play chicken by crossing said road just as you try to wiz by.  Heck, the last two nights when I haven’t come through town on my way home until after 1 AM, there has been this rather large buck just grazing away about 15’ to 20’ off the edge of Route 4#, RIGHT INSIDE THE CITY LIMITS. Luckily he turned around and went back into the field as I slowly pulled up to get a picture but we all know how much damage can be done to a vehicle and it’s occupants going even just 40 MPH when one decides to cash it in.

And don’t forget their activity increase during the Rut and when the Does come into season.  And if you’re puling a boat….I just can’t imagine all the damage that a deer could cause. I remember a story my Dad told me years ago about a fellow Army officer who was up in Wisconsin for their two weeks training that summer, and how his friend smacked a deer that flipped onto the hood and through his windshield where he ended up in his backseat still alive and started kicking the "___"out of him. WOW!

Dumbasses.  They are EVERYWHERE! On the roadways, in the woods and fields, but especially on the water. Whether it’s a Jon Boat, fishing boat, pontoon, Seafood, speedboat, and all the rest that float and have propulsion, they are on the water or at the ramp – day in and day out. And not all of them are drinking alcohol!

(THANK GOD!)

Sometimes they speed through No Wake Zones.  Or they simply run up and down the water in all types of watercraft, seemingly oblivious to their environment.  Common Courtesy, and for the most part, Common Sense was left at home or never made it out the birth canal when they emerged into this world.  There is no explaining them, and, are hard to identify…that is until they get near the water.

They speed past and right through while your trying to fish and even hunt. I have had people fish right through my decoys a number of times while I stand there out in the open with a loaded shotgun no less!. I was semi filled with glee one day last September during the early waterfowl season when this boat tried to fish right where I am hunting and they got stuck. It made me smile….

Again, there are all types of Dumbasses out there who don’t give a hoot about anyone else in their world – and that means you have to be cautious, ever vigilant and have cat-like reflexes. I personally have not been in a wreck in a boat, but who can say they have not experienced the terror of near misses, high rolling wakes, or the like?

So, to sum up my friends, in the immortal words of Phil Esterhouse, “ Let’s be careful out there” and not end up in a body bag.

 

POSTSCRIPT

Here is a new one, always keep your PVC at the forefront:

• ·        Be Patient.
• ·        Be Vigilant.
• ·        Be Courteous.

More examples of what you might encounter on the water...

And oddities...

And on land

Even from the air!

It's a crazy world out there, we just have to Patient, Vigilant and....COURTEOUS!!

Never give up. Never...

 By Bob Zettler

April 17, 2006

Nearly 10 years ago, I lost my Yellow Lab and a Brittany I inherited when my Father died in 1990. 

I had just finished duck hunting and my guest and I were watching the ducks drop into Carlyle Lake subimpoundments as I let the two run in the parking lot #1 to pee and the like before we headed north to pheasant hunt. A few vehicles came and went and then when I turned around - no dogs. I proceeded to ask all incoming hunters if they had seen them and drove all over for the next six hours and into the dark looking for them and enlisting the assistance of others, including the local CPO.

I left some clothes near where I parked so if they came back over night they would hopefully stay. Took the guest home and returned the next day and drove all over to no avail. This was 12/21 and when it turned dark again I had to return home. The next morning I was on the phone to the local radio stations and newspaper. I was put on the one radio show (an auction show) and then contacted all the Vets in the area and psotmaster. Came back a few days later and started to put out signs and notes in mailboxes. Kept my children from discovering it at Christmas before they went home to their mother's and then was back at it.

It was a very snowy period and the ole Brittany didn't like water so I was worried they had been stolen so I started putting out the story they were on medications and were chipped (micro). I need to mention I lived nearly 90 miles from where they disappeared BUT ALL OF THE PEOPLE in that area were very helpful, considerate and supportive. Had a few false leads but 10 days later on 12/29 I got the ole Brittany back! He was nearly 11 miles away from where he had started, so I started placing new notices in mailboxes that night in a blizzard for several miles in each direction from where he was found. The next night I got another call and JJ had been found! He had been just a few houses away and I had actually driven past him in the blizzard when I placed a notice in the mailbox of the house he was hiding out under.

Both had lost some weight but other than that we were all happy to have found each other. I did not give up for those 10 days and did all that I could and enlisted all the resources available - including the Internet. There are forums out there and I had people from all over offering counsel, advice, support and even time to look - all for a stranger in Illinois.

JJ is still with us but Barney died a few years ago at the age of 17 - pretty old for a Brittany. I just know that JJ still remembers I didn't give up and we were VERY lucky to get our family back together.

What I did a lot of besides placing 100's of notices in mailboxes, in businesses, at stores, and the like was driving around and TALKING TO EVERYONE I SAW. Many of these people would look and report to me if they saw anything. I even had one women of 78 follow a pair of dogs in a blizzard one day thinking they were the ones only to discover the neighbors had new pets. Good people down there and I will never know if they ran off or were taken. I just could not imagine them traveling all the distance they would have had to. They would have had to cross several bridges, interstate and waterways in that 11+ miles...

Good luck to those whose canine family members go missing and do not give up!

And the winner is…

I am going to post a number of older stories so beware! And the winner is… 

By Bob Zettler 

December 7, 2008 

 It was suppose to be deer second season for me but as that ole dark cloud cast a shadow over what I had hoped for and didn’t materialize, I decided to go duck hunting – and with the cold weather, I once again had to turn to friends for a spot to hunt instead of hitting the public places I could hoof it to like when I was younger. 

The first morning of the four days was set for western Illinois along the Mississippi and I didn’t have to arrive until after 7 AM as my host didn’t get off work until then. I stopped for food to bring for the crew and met him at the ramp right on schedule and was greeted by a totally iced waterway. It was almost 2 inches thick but the first load of hunters had already made it out so we headed to the blind. 

 I wish I could have brought a movie camera along to capture the spray of ice, chunks and frozen water particles thrown up behind Dan as we made our way to the blind since it was spectacular. That rooster tail was 20 to 30 feet up into the air and the chunks would just fall back onto the ice and slide away as we cut our path. 

Now Dan has one heck of a boat and the 35 HP mud-motor was worth its weight in gold that morning as he was able to circle around and through the decoys to create a 50-yard wide hole in front of the blind. Combine that with the Mallard Machine placed 15-yards in front and we had open water that would hopefully entice every duck and goose down for a meeting with their maker! 

 This is a nine-hole blind that blends in well with the surroundings and provides excellent protection for its occupants what with a stove/heater and stools. No wind issues inside this one and all we needed were the ducks to do their thing. 

 Wasn’t too long before a lone Gadwall winged nearby and over the right end of the blind whereby Dan’s guests rose up and pummeled it with steel. While no one called the shot and the bird did not immediately fall, it was mortally wounded and fell on the ice behind us where Dan went out later to retrieve by boat. 

 With the ice continuing to form around the decoys, Dan used the boat after retrieving the Gadwall to open it all up again to where there was clear and open water with no icy slush or chunks floating around so it looked as if the ducks had been keeping it open naturally. 

 We then had three Mallards drop in and light right in the decoys whereupon we shot and all three stayed with the farthest falling not more than 15 to 20 yards out and the closest within 8 yards. 

 But with the cold temperatures and very few ducks flying, we decided to call it early and began to pick up decoys to avoid them being frozen in the ice as the end of the season approached. And while his guests left for their own reasons, Dan and I took out all but maybe 18 and made it back to the ramp before Noon so he could get some sleep and I could make it home to return the next day to try it again – did I mention it was 14 degrees when we arrived and it only made it to 24 by the time we left? 

 The next morning I get up and am out the door before 5 AM and the roads are clear but it is a tad cooler than the day before as it was now 9 degrees! I arrived early and even had a selection of sausage biscuits for everyone (if the other three showed up) and when we looked at the ice and couldn’t get the boat started; we decided to call it a day before it started. It was a long drive back home… 

 For the next day, I all of a sudden had invites for three very different areas of the state but decided to head to Rend Lake as I was trying to set up something for my friends down there and we needed to chat. The forecast had snow on the agenda so I decided to leave very early and headed out the door around 1:30 AM for the 150 mile trip…just in case. 

 I didn’t see the first flurries until the Litchfield area and made it safely to our favorite Huck’s in Mt. Vernon on time but not before picking up some sausage biscuits for everyone; as besides Nick, there would be his 7-year old son Loa, John and his father, which made for three generations of hunters for that Saturday morning hunt on a public lake. 

 As we left Huck’s, the snow arrived in force and it began to get nasty. Oh yeah, that’s what I like! Arrived at the boat ramp and we were the only ones there and the time was 4:45 AM. It seems John overslept but he and his Dad arrived before 5 AM and we headed out in Nick’s War Eagle. 

 Wow, was that snow and wind blowing and with all of us hugging the floor of the duck boat, I could see Nick every now and then when he turned on his spotlight with waves of icy spray hitting him and coating his body turning it into a popsicle - a 6’ 4” camo clad popsicle! The temperature was 26 degrees with winds of 10 to 18 MPH out of the southwest…you all figure out the wind chill! 

 Unfortunately, his first spot was already taken as well as his second for it seems the word had gotten out on how well he and John had been doing, so we settled for the second runner-up and began to set decoys in the snowy, icy predawn darkness. 

 It was quite the spread what with Mallards, Goldeneyes, Ring Necks, Canvasbacks, Blue Bills, Canada geese and one lone Black Duck laid out with Nick’s precision. He even fine tuned it a couple of times moving one here, another back over there, and picking a couple up to place off to the side but it looked great to us when we were done a full hour before shooting time. We unloaded the gear and Nick took and parked the boat around the corner while we settled in along the rocks and amongst the cover where we were not more than a couple of feet from the water and no more than a couple of yards between us with Jon at one end and Nick at the other. 

 The snow began to let up as shooting time crept closer and we got more comfortable among the rocks and brush. Say what you will but this crew had a plan. And when their first couple of spots was taken, they had a number of backups. Then it wasn’t simply a case of throwing out decoys, as Nick placed and grouped them according to what he felt would work for the conditions, the location, the species he had been seeing and a whole litany of requisites. And as shooting time arrived, we could hear the hunters from where Nick and Jon had hunted the day before shoot and just hoped we would still get a chance… 

 It wasn’t too long, maybe a few minutes, before the Mergansers began to sweep past our decoys on their way to God only knows. And as they are fair game, shots were taken and while many did not find their target which might have been going Mach 1, a couple did and retrieves were made by boat and by dog as Nick had brought his Yellow Lab. 

And as the snow was diminishing and the light increasing, we began to spot other, more desirable waterfowl within range of Nick and John’s calls – John’s Dad and I reframed from spoiling their efforts and didn’t call. A VERY wise choice… Nick and John work well together as a team, whether they are calling birds, setting decoys, flagging or other type of waterfowling activities. They have been hunting together for some time and that includes most every day during the waterfowl season in the Southern Zone and even some in the Central Zone. 

 I thoroughly enjoy hunting with them even though I tend to get more than my fair share of abuse as it is in good fun and not mean-spirited. Even when I screw up I don’t get a blast of vitriol but usually an educational effort by Nick and I truly appreciate that part as it helps even this old coot learn even though I tend to relapse more times than I care to count… 

 Now I love the harsh weather to hunt waterfowl in as I fell it keeps them moving and prone to making mistakes – the waterfowl that is! Now in my nearly 30 years of hunting them, I have yet to kill a Drake Canvasback and this year that option would not be available to me as the season was closed by the FWS. And for the first time I can recall, we had Can’s not only swing close by but lite in the decoys! And I do not mean one or two but sometimes a half-dozen or more and most were Drakes!!! Talk about restraint… 

 Now this day felt like one of those special days from the get-go. The weather was prime old-fashioned waterfowling conditions, we were hunting on a public lake and had set ourselves up along a point that was covered with big rocks where we hunkered down amongst them trying not to break a leg of the icy formations or slip into the frigid waters, the company was excellent and we were only taking high-percentage shots as we usually did. The dog was doing his job well but Nick would have to occasionally go to the boat and chase down cripples which were mostly Divers. 

 Now why is that I thought as I know that these guys can shoot and seldom have had a miss when we hunted Mallards? It turns out the physiology of the Goldeneyes (especially) and Blue Bills are a little different than most Puddle ducks and you can tell that the first time you pick one up. They seem pretty heavy for their size compared to their Mallard cousins and when you open them up you usually find a more generous layer of fat that seems to provide a better “armor” for their vital organs. Unless we hit one and broke a wing it wasn’t unusual to have them get pummeled repeatedly as they screamed into and out of the decoys spread only to fall dead anywhere from 40 to a 100 yards out. And I mean stone dead. Even if we crippled one, unless one of their feet were broken too, they would dive only to pop up somewhere else and that could mean 50 or more yards away! This added an element of risk and surprise that enticed me to hope for another chance at one as soon as that one was either brought to bag or lost to the waves before either the dog or Nick in his boat could get to it before it disappeared… 

 There were two father-son teams this day as Nick had brought his seven year old son Loa and John brought his Dad who was close to my age. I had brought McDonald’s sausage biscuits for everyone and they hit the spot as I washed mine down with hot chocolate I had made before I left home. 

 I get a kick out of Loa as he seldom complains and when he does it isn’t about being cold, wanting to go home or the like but about not being to shoot a duck like the rest of us. And when he had finished his biscuit and found I had candy, well it was game on as he ate his way through a bag before we left. It was like adding jet fuel to a go-kart as this kid does not stop and is always doing something and he even mouth calls geese! He has his own duck call and has learned to BRRRRTTTT on it for those Divers we love too. 

 Nick should be one proud papa as he has been raising his son well and is one of the most patient fathers I have ever met – hands down. Anyway, I digress as usual. 

 As the shots were being called on ducks as they were in our faces, whether it be Mallards, Goldeneyes, Blue Bills or even a Gadwall, there were plenty of opportunities for all of us to learn or practice our water-shot techniques to prevent losses or a trip to the boat for the chase as we were determined to bring our ducks to bag and limit our losses. 

 And as John was on an end where many fell crippled (from all our efforts) it came down to him to try and dispatch more than his share thus placing him in an ammo dilemma where we had to augment his supply and me with some ammo of my own to tease him about not coming prepared… 

 Now there came a volley where a number of Goldeneyes were dropped and as Nick went out in the boat he discovered one Hen was banded! Now this was right after he and John had talked about how they had taken a banded Hen Goldeneye the week before and how this freak occurrence would most likely not be repeated in our lifetimes. 

 Ain’t that something as this was the fifth or sixth band their group had harvested since the Southern Zone season opened and the second Goldeneye (both Hens) but in both cases no one could tell who shot what! 

 Now this day wasn’t without a little humor and a drama. First there was this Benny Hill type watercraft that must have had just a 7.5 HP motor on it that cruised by and over to the spillway and then back again. And since it was so slow, it took forever fighting its way through the water several hundred yards outside our decoys and provided us with a good laugh. 

 However, a little later we had another boat cut right outside the decoy edge at less than a 100 yards just as a flock came into and out of the decoys where shots were fired BUT NOT ANYWHERE NEAR that boat. Well these guys slam on the anchor and roar back cussing at us for shooting at them as they had a young man in with them. 

 It was pointed out that no one had shot at them or near them, and, by the way, why had they cut the outside edge of our spread when they had plenty of water to go around. They provided an unusual answer and more words were thrown back and now forth. 

 And as I came around the corner, the boat finally motored off to the ramp where I assumed they expected we had put in the water from but hadn’t as this spot was not our original destination. Sure hope no one had their tires slashed in the parking lot that day because it wasn’t out vehicle….. 

 We went ahead and stuck it out to till 1 PM but most of the action was over by 10 AM where very few Mallards presented themselves but we had a grand day! And did you know there is a Universal Law that pick-up goes so quickly and better when you are successful? It really does… 

And when we got back to the boat ramp, we were all entered into a drawing for the band with a coin toss. But since we had wind and some of us couldn’t catch their coin, it had to go twice. And the winner was…John’s Dad! 

This had been his first hunt of the season and what I felt was a great decision was that he gave his son the band and the dad gets the FWS certificate when it comes. Makes for a new great memory. And since they had used the Internet to turn in the band number, they discovered it had been banded in Minnesota. 

 Ain’t life great some days!

Blind Mallard! Blind Mallard!

 Blind Mallard!

By Bob Zettler
December 28, 2010

"Blind Mallard! Blind Mallard!" 

Now how in the Heck does he know it's blind I thought to myself as Nick yelled it into my ear from over my cell but I am getting ahead of myself. You see I was hunting out of a layout boat and it had been a real doozy of a day. Even on the best of days my faculties aren't all that great but the last 12 hours had been a real doozy let me tell you...

First off, I hadn't gotten any sleep the night before. Between my restless legs and palpitating heart I just could not get to sleep even with all the (legal) drugs I had pumped into me. I had hit the hay before 10 PM as I had to leave by 2 AM but the legs and heart kept me awake tossing and turning. So at 2 AM I hit the road and before I hit the city limits was pulled over for speeding! However, he took one look at me already dressed for hunting ducks and saw how disheveled my appearance was and provided me with a waring ticket and cautioned me that there had already been one rollover that night due to icy roads.

That interlude put me 10 minutes behind but it could have put a severe dent in the pocket too so there was an upside. As I got near Nick's meeting spot I called to let him know I was running behind but would be there shortly ? only 5 minutes late. Well he had another friend coming and this would be his first time waterfowling so hopefully we could teach him something...

We headed out in one vehicle and arrived at the ramp where there were already three or more there but Nick put in quickly. However I had to pull him out as the ice had been so thick that the motor wouldn't drop. That was quickly remedied and we got in the boat from the edge of the ramp. Usually this wasn't an issue but for some reason as I slid myself over the edge I slipped and crushed my left nut but toughed it out as we sped across the water. Since I was holding my own and hadn't thought about how cold it was ? just the ache in my nethers? I failed to pull my hood up and when I did I realized I didn't know where my face mask was. Talk about frostbite! But again, I toughed it out...

Well the first spot was taken (thanks guys for not shining a light as we motored all the way there) and it was more frostbite as we went to where he had been the day before. Using layouts is a hoot as you put out your decoys and then place the layouts and this time (thankfully) we were going to be hunting out of them in fairly shallow water. Nick went over the side to start the unloading process and as I never want to be someone who doesn't at least try to assist, decided to go over the side and help.

Remembering my left one I tried to keep it safe as I went over I got my foot caught and over the side I went and into the water. Did I mention how cold it was? Well, I was only wet from my above my navel and down both legs and into my waders but I was a big guy and would tough it out...

We got ourselves into the layouts and began our wait. And as I had brought a thermos of HOT chocolate I knew that I would be okay even as my waders and pants began to freeze and stiffen. Even with the winds at our backs I was getting a little chilly and just couldn't get comfortable. Plus, I kept trying to doze off due to lack of sleep. Even with the fear of hypothermia I knew I would be okay as I was a tough guy...

Finally, around 8 AM when we hadn't fired a shot I decided to take a walk (as we were near enough to the shore) just so I wouldn't get the shakes. An hour later and still no shots I returned to the layouts whereupon they had decided to call it a day. A little disappointed that no one had even fired a shot, I was okay with that as I knew that what had happened to me over the previous 11 hours would soon have its impact so they went to get the boat while I rested in the one layout. 

Now they had quite a hike and after they were out of sight I decided to take a leak as I had been wanting to go since 7 AM! As I was writing my name in the snow (short hose, long backed up stream) I thought I heard someone yell but what did I know as I was getting a little punchy and that is when I heard a phone ring. Not believing it was mine as I thought I had either left it in the Jeep or had ruined it from my dunking, I was pleasantly surprised to discover it was in a dry pocket of mine!

As I answered it I heard Nick scream, "BLIND Mallard! There is a BLIND Mallard in the decoys!!!" 

I kind of chuckled as how did he know there was a duck in the decoys and while I know he is good but how could he tell it was a BLIND duck? Well, I looked around and sure enough there was a duck on the outside edge of the decoys but here I was with my you-know-what in my hands making yellow snow! I quickly finished (boy does that hurt when you aren't done) and put down the cell which was on speaker and picked up my shotgun. But what the Heck was this duck? It looked like no other I had ever seen and it must be blind to have flown over me and land 30 yards away as I was peeing!

Well, whatever species it was it was definitely a duck, albeit maybe someone's farm duck and I took the first shot but missed. As it flew off I threw a second and finally third where I dumped it. Hallelujah, we were not blanked! A few minutes later as Nick motored over I heard the rest of the story. As they had approached the boat this duck had been sitting under the boat out of the weather and had flown off to land right next to me where I was standing with my pecker in my hands literally! And while I had thought Nick was yelling BLIND Mallard he was actually yelling BLOND Mallard!

Now I had never heard of a BLOND Mallard and this was only the second one Nick had even seen. And here, the one guy who went through all sorts of Hell the previous 12 hours and had shown the first-timer what not to do, was the one who scored a true trophy!! My sincere thank you to Nick and to the waterfowl Gods who put me through all the adversities but had bestowed upon me this unique bird which currently resides in my freezer until I find a taxidermist to do it for me. By the way, does anyone wear a cup while they waterfowl hunt...

They call him, Mister Sweetness!

By Bob Zettler

August 14, 2017

Some call me obsessed. Some call me crazy. And some stupid. Whatever the case, I love to go fishing and hunting. And over the years I have been blessed to have come into contact with so many good and great people who hunt and/or fish. And while ALL of these individuals have been kind to me over the years, and years, and....years, when it comes to all-around Walter Payton(ish), I think of Brian Cleland.

We first met via Crappie.com maybe 8-10 (??) years ago when he learned he was also going to be fishing at Lake Shelbyville for Crappie when a coworker and me were headed over one day and we exchanged contact information to share how we were doing or if we ran into trouble. Now my coworker and I were having a difficult time finding Crappie and around 1030 AM Brian texted me to ask how we were doing and I replied, “not so good.” It turned out Brian was already done and he asked where we were as he was down at the south end of the lake, while we were up north of the Findlay Marina. Now he had put in down there but a few minutes later he motored up and officially introduced himself.

After some initial banter he offered to put us on fish before he left and we accepted! This is where it gets interesting. You see he had been fishing way down by Coon Cove and when we arrived he threw out his own marker buoys and told us exactly where to drop our lines. Within minutes we were boating Crappie, GOOD Crappie! Unfortunately, he had to leave soon but told me to hold onto the buoys and he would get them another time. Now how often does a stranger do something like this for some yahoo who he only knows from an Internet forum!

Well the years have passed and he and I fish every now and then out of his boat where I ALWAYS have a great time but it had been awhile until last Thursday. He had read of how I had been having a difficult time catching Crappie the last month and he took pity on me and offered to take me out after work the next week. We tentatively agreed on the next Thursday as I was headed to St. Louis for the morning but could be back for a late afternoon excursion. On that day while I was wrapping up my business, he texted me throughout the day about whether he could get out of work and take me for our previously arranged 4 PM start. No need to fear, he moved the start time forward to 445 PM and he literally pulled in right behind me as I arrived at Bo Woods,

A quick turnaround and we are on the water headed to our first spot by 5 PM. And it was a doozy and one I probably would have a difficult time finding or holding on due to its location way out in the lake – my boat hates the wind. He decides for us to use just one pole each and its on like Donkey Kong!!! Almost every cast of mine brought up the elusive “Over” Crappie that I had been searching for the past several months while Brian was, as he said, “getting the small ones out of my way.”

We soon had nearly a dozen keepers in the live-well and moved on to the next spot where we added several more. Now we were racing darkness so time was of the essence, so we only spent a short time at each spot, especially since we had so little time left. And, much to my pleasure, he was also trying to show me where to look and find brush-piles that I normally have the darnedest time finding even with a GPS and even a leftover marker buoy floating on it. Heck-fire, he said I could mark the spots on my GPS to boot! What a guy...

Anyway, to wrap this up without telling you all the six spots he introduced me to, suffice to say that in 150 minutes from the time we entered the water till we were back in the parking lot, he and I put 23 keepers (ALL our OVERS and the rest UNDERS) in the live-well. In addition, as I was having so much fun, I only marked 2.5 of the spots but I am totally content with that since that is but an infinitesimal portion of the spots he has on Lake Shelbyville alone and each pone produced more for us in a short time than my spots had in an all day outing.

So, Brain Cleland (aka Mister Sweetness), my continued admiration for your fishing prowess and appreciation for how you have helped me achieve what I have as I fish for Crappie! Thank you so very much.

“Hey Billy, do you like Gladiator movies?”

June 6, 2016

By Bob Zettler

I love to hunt and fish. No, let’s face it, hunting and fishing IS my life to a large extent nowadays as I gave up on finding the right woman years ago. So nowadays there are my children, who I love and am proud of, and then there is hunting and fishing. And since it is nearly the summer solstice, fishing is it till September 1 where I begin to go crazy over hunting Early Canada geese and an afternoon shoot for dove. But until then, it’s fishing. Period.

As such, I go most every weekend and every opportunity that presents itself, whether it is as the guest or host. And there is a big difference between the two for when I am the guest, I arrive before they ask me to meet and quit when they say quit. BUT, and that is a BIG BUT, when I am the host I go as long as I can physically stay awake most times and that will tax most anyone else in the world for they have family commitments, jobs and the need for sleep…

I have been ridiculed for my 19, 20, 21 hour trips over to Lake Shelbyville where I will fish from a late afternoon or early evening, into the night hours and then go after those Crappie until either I catch my limit or just cannot see the water. I tell people who join me that they can come and go as they choose for they do not have to “stay the course” and beat themselves up on one of my expeditions. And, I have had a number of people join me where they come late or leave early and this has worked out for it suits us both. And then there was Craig…

I met Craig years ago when he joined Holden and I on what was probably one of the best pheasant hunts I will ever be on. It was wild birds and it was maybe one of his first times out and we bumped into Craig and a friend as we walked the farms of east central Illinois. “WE” scored a full 10 bird limit that day and I simply could not miss. I think the final bird of the day was one that flushed as we were headed back to the vehicles and on my third shot I crushed him at an unbelievable distance whereupon Chunk, my Yellow Lab retrieved him with his Father, JJ, and his brother, Taz in tow. And to top the day off, as we recuperated and relived the hunt from the tailgates of trucks, we witnessed the Northern Lights in the sky – a first for several. It was a magical day and one for the ages but I digress, as usual…

Fast forward to this weekend where Craig had just gotten out of the Army and wanted to go with me over to Lake Shelbyville so I told him he could join me for whatever time he wanted and he wanted it ALL. So we made plans to meet up around 10 PM on Saturday and we would be responsible for our own food and beverages and I would get minnows and catfish bait and he would try for some bluegill and shad. I tried to sleep but a pesky cold and multiple phone calls and texts over the afternoon interrupted my slumber. We met at Leprechaun Landing where I keep my boat at 10 PM and readied ourselves and the watercraft before getting on the water well before 11 PM.

With searchlights ablaze, GPS(s) leading the way, we motored up the lake from Wolf Creek to near Point 6, maybe 4 or so miles in total darkness, sans a few stars. I told him to never tell my kids I do this for they would freak out. I mean, boating in total darkness after a rain using only searchlights and my GPS’s at nearly 30 MPH – they would either commit me or take away my keys! Anyway, we made it there unscathed and discovered others were already there so we tried the island nearby and discovered that the wind the weatherman had said would be light was…shall we say, not, which made it near impossible to keep the jugs off the shoreline. Decided finally to head into a nearby cove and set my 25 floaters with cut shad and chicken livers before boating over to the local marina area where it was lighted and held some fish.

We fished that area until 4 AM and caught a good number of Crappie, with just a couple of keepers, and returned to our catch in the cove. Started pulling my jugs and discovered several had their bait removed; none had fish with several up near the banks. One that was right up against the back we got a surprise, a Soft-Shelled turtle – a BIG one. He had tried to free himself by going under a stump and we could simply not budge him or the stump so we decided to get back to him. Then we discovered another one held a snapping turtle on it – WOW! Not knowing the legality, nor wanting to deal with it, he was cut free. Finally we saw one jug moving like the barrel in Jaws and after a brief chase were able to boat the 8 pound Catfish. Sweet. However, none of the other jugs held fish and several were missing bait so we decided to free the other turtle as well. Hopefully we made the right decisions…

As it was now breaking daylight, we went after Crappie with a vengeance and I put us on one of my spots where we began to catch them! We caught a lot but very few keepers with most being in the 8-9” range but a couple of Overs did make their way onto our hooks. After a couple of hours we decided to head over to the Coalshaft Bridge area but discovered the winds we had been fighting all night were even worse there and with no other boats trying their luck there I reached out to Brian for help.

Brian Cleland is quite possibly one of the nicest guys you will ever meet and has helped me since before we even met in person. Brian quickly replied and sent me tips on where to look and amazingly, I found them! And, we were on Crappie again – a lot of Crappie – but where I could do no wrong at our first spot and had added several fish to our catch, nothing was going right here. With snags, broken lines, and all, I was spending most of my time at getting untangled, unsnagged or replacing lost gear. But Craig came up with the idea that if we had an anchor then maybe it would be easier. DUH! I have two anchors! So we get one out, motor past the spot and I drop anchor letting the line glide through my hands and into the depths. Did I say glide? I meant RIP through my hands as it had a hook stuck in the rope and as I wasn’t wearing Kevlar, well let me say the experience wasn’t one I wanted repeated!

Yet, after the blood was washed off the bow, I was back on the fish and…you guessed it, getting tangled, losing gear and getting wrapped up in ropes, lines and the like but I still managed a Crappie or three. After a couple hours and nearing Noon, I asked him what he wanted to do, expecting him to say how good a tall, cold Coors would be right about then but he surprised me by saying let’s try the other spot! Que sera, sera. Can’t this boy get enough!

Onto that spot and another anchor drop and you guessed it, another shredded hand palm, as I had taken out the one hook, I found another! And Jeez Louise, we…I mean Craig, began catching Overs all the while I am trying to stem the blood loss and get myself untangled and the like. By Noon, the winds were tougher and now the pleasure boaters were out and we had a good number of fish but the minnows were down to a couple of dead ones – I had been using the dead ones AND still catching Crappie – so I asked Craig what was his pleasure and he shocked me. I thought he would say it had been a good time and let’s head for the Hills for a cold Coors. Instead, he said we could stop by the Marina, buy some more minnows and try the spot we had started off at before heading back to the ramp. Now, as most who know me, that is usually what I would say but this time it was another and I was the vict…I mean, the one ready to be done. Somewhere I was quite sure pigs were learning to fly…

Onto the Marina where we pick up another batch of minnows, as we had already gone through more than 10 dozen, and back at the first brushpile where roles are reversed again and I am catching fish while Craig is trying to get untangled. Stayed at it for awhile and finally decided to hit those other spots we had last been at before calling it a day. While we found the one spot, I really had problems finding the other and then the winds were truly a pain in the posterior. Yet, we managed a couple more keepers and then ran out of the second batch of minnow! I mean we went through maybe 200+ minnows and were just shy of a two man limit of Crappie but the killer was I had been ready to call it a day four hours earlier!!!

With the jigs losing their effectiveness and not even a dead minnow in the bucket (I had resorted to using the dried ones that had fallen on the boat’s deck several times already), Craig finally said we could call it and it was well after 5 PM the day after we had begun our expedition. Wow. Just Wow!

The boat ride was wet as there were whitecaps and that pesky wind but we made good time all weighed down with gear, coolers and now fish. Let Craig off and he backed my van and trailer down and we were soon off to our home sweet home – around 6:30 PM! What made my day was when Craig said that not only had he had a great time but it was also the most fish he had ever caught – in his life! Tears of pride and accomplishment swelled in my heart…

Yet, nearly 21 hours on the boat was enough and while I had been feeling great on the boat, it truly hit me once I walked on shore. With another 90 minutes to home for me, I set off and made it to my driveway shortly after 8 PM whereupon it took me a full five minutes to get myself out of the van and in the front door, leaving a trail of clothes in my wake and the fish on ice as I collapsed into my bed.

It had been a great time but I felt like I had been vanquished for I had never been so tired IMHO. And when that chicken I ate on the way home decided to make its emergency exit from my bowels at midnight and I wasn’t sure I could sit upright on the throne, I realized Craig was right that eating chicken on an empty stomach after it having sat out all afternoon wasn’t such a good idea. So while it might have appeared like a tie and that this old man outlasted the young Army Gladiator, I am now just not so sure about that…

Anyway, thank you to Brian, Shawn and all the rest who assisted me on our expedition and welcome home for Craig. God Bless everyone (but not a couple of ex-wives)!