Stan, I grew up shooting more ringnecks than anything else. They were just what we had down here. Put enough barbecue sauce on them and they taste just fine.

The first time I went to Canada to hunt with visions of barley fed mallards dancing in my head, we stopped at a pothole on the prairie and got out of the truck to stretch our legs. Tactical as always, I had my shotgun in the other hand. A single duck flew over and I killed him. Guess what; a ringneck...Geo