6 / OutdoorIllinois July 2008

The biggest day of the year at this state hunting sitisn’t opening day—it’s the mid-summer party to

Blind Date at R

Story and PhotosBy Joe McFarland

What happens when you’vegot just 30 waterfowlhunting blinds availableto the public but thou-sands of waterfowling

enthusiasts show up to claim them—all on the same day?

At Rice Lake State Fish and WildlifeArea in west-central Illinois, they throw aparty. And not just any party. It’s a com-munity-wide celebration lasting morethan a day where tailgate cook-offs,amplified music, camp-outs, gun rafflesand party cheer bring together as manyas 2,000 rural folks to toast friendshipsand wait for their name to be called.

And it all happens months beforehunting season even starts.

Bill Douglass, site superintendentat this waterfowling epicenter locatedin Fulton County near the IllinoisRiver, serves as the microphone-wav-ing master of ceremonies, officialgreeter and hand-shaker, and logisticaloverseer of one of the biggest annualevents in the region.

It all began decades ago as a simple,lottery-style drawing to offer seasonalrights to the few dozen, state-managed

July 2008 OutdoorIllinois / 7

e near the Illinois Riveraward hunting blinds.

iceLake

waterfowl blinds at Rice Lake. Thirtyblind sites were available. Each year, asummer drawing was held to allocatethem to the public.

But since nearly everyone in thecommunity wanted a coveted water-fowl blind at Rice Lake, the annual lot-tery quickly turned into a mass meetingof the community. Even non-water-fowlers show up now and throw theirname in the hat.

“Backwater” here is a literal term.Rice Lake is actually a huge, shallowbackwater of the Illinois River and sitsamid miles of rural countryside withfarms and woodlots and vast, marshybottomland. One glance at the crowdon this midsummer afternoon reveals alocal fact of life. Everybody in this partof Illinois hunts and fishes.

And, once a year, everybody fromnearby towns such as Buzzville andGoofy Ridge jam this state fish andwildlife area..all for the wild chance theirname will pop up. The prize: exclusive,seasonal rights to hunt waterfowl from astate-managed blind on Rice Lake.

“I’ve never had my name drawn, andI’ve been coming to the duck blinddrawing since I was a teenager,” smiles50-year-old waterfowler Bob Harper ofLewiston. Harper said he arrived twodays early to claim a coveted camp sitewith his trusty hunting lab Corky.Showing up early doesn’t improve thelottery odds, he acknowledged. But itdoes improve the fun.

Harper certainly isn’t alone. Somehunters spend an entire lifetime with-out hearing their name called. Yet oth-ers report incredible luck—the kindreserved for beginners.

“The very first time I was here I gotdrawn,” proclaims Mike French of

Brimfield. For French and his wife Ann,along with nearly 2,000 other water-fowl fans, participating in the Rice Lakeblind drawing is as much a culinaryevent as it is a social outing. BothFrenches register separately for theafternoon drawing (everybody who reg-isters, even if they intend to “share” theblind with a spouse or pal, must have avalid hunting license and FirearmOwner’s Identification card).

Camper Nate Ramsey cooks up late

breakfast with pals David Jones, Derrick

Dawson and Nick Ramsey (above).

Scott Bailey of Bartonville presents the

perfect cheeseburgers.

At the front of a 100-yard waiting line,

attendees register for the annual

waterfowl blind drawing.

At Rice Lake State Fish and Wildlife

Area, the shallow backwater of the

Illinois River in central Illinois has

been a waterfowling paradise for

generations. The annual drawing to

assign 30 waterfowl blinds attracts

entire communities.

To participate in the blind drawing, aperson must be at least 16 and have

a Illinois hunting license and Illinoiswaterfowl stamp from the current orprevious year, and a valid FOID card.

This year’s drawing for waterfowlblinds at Rice Lake State Fish andWildlife Area is scheduled for Sunday,July 27. Register from 10 a.m.-2 p.m. atthe area check station, 3 miles south ofBanner on Rt. 24.

8 / OutdoorIllinois July 2008

But there is a string attached in thishusband-and-wife contest, Ann Frenchpoints out.

“The deal is—and I tell him thisevery year—if I get drawn, he has tobuy me a new diamond,” she laughs.“Maybe that’s why he’s glad I never getdrawn.”

For many, the near-celebrity status ofbeing a lucky winner takes a back seatto the equal-opportunity offerings of

food. There’s freshly grilled, tailgatedelicacies such as marinated mallardand bacon-wrapped venison. In themorning, it’s eggs and sausage, biscuitsand gravy—and gallons of coffee servedon tailgates. By late morning, as crowdsincrease and midday nears, a cold beersounds good to many, and the realcooking begins. Coolers are opened,bags of game lifted out and cold meathits the grill.

“You hungry? Want some?” strangersoffer strangers strolling around the cele-bration. It’s the best-of-the-best sports-man’s life being offered here, withfavorite recipes showcased for the masses.

Music is playing constantly some-where. More people stream in. Carsand pickups line the county road for amile as late arrivals hike in, some push-ing strollers. At the registration tent,site superintendent Douglass recitesprotocol.

“Have your FOID, your licenseready,” he calls out as he greets eachhopeful. The registration line builds bythe minute and eventually stretches outof the tent, across the lawn and arounda barn. An hour passes.

Suddenly the music is cut. Douglasshops onto a portable stage andannounces the first of a series of raffledrawings.

“Fulton County D.U.” he begins,glancing at a card he was just handed.“OK, you guys are giving away a...”Somebody produces a brand-new shot-gun, tags dangling, and hands it up toDouglass.

And so the drawings begin. Witheach name announced by Douglass overthe booming loudspeakers, individualshouts arise from the sea of faces. Some-one—always unbelievably happy—waves a ticket. Everybody shouts, cheer-ing. One by one, guns and related hunt-ing gear and all brands of services areawarded to the community until, withan electrifying declaration, the biggest ofall moments arrives. Registration for 30waterfowl blinds at Rice Lake State Fishand Wildlife Area, plus five alternates,has ceased. It is time to select winners.

Children crowd forward to be cho-sen as the official hand to reach intothe box of registration cards.

“OK. Here we go,” Douglass callsout to the crowd. The official box ofregistration cards—transparent for fair-ness—is cranked around several times.More than 1,000 names swirl.

A card is removed. A name is called.Someone screams.

All heads turn but one.

Site Superintendent Bill Douglass serves

as master of ceremonies for raffles and

the official blind drawing. With eyes closed,

Dekota Ashwood, 10, draws the first winner.

The late Ed Stevenson was nearly 89 when

he attended his final Rice Lake blind

drawing last summer. “I started hunting

when I was 10,” Stevenson explained. He

managed to hunt one last time in November.