Night of the Cannibal Chili Chickens

It was a dark moonless night, we huddled 'round the fire for the warmth, yes, but mostly because of what lurked just beyond the fringes of the firelight…

Spooky is it not? I don’t think the night was moonless, though it could have been, as it has been a while since my friend, my son, and I camped out at Mojave Narrows. The chickens weren’t chickens, they were ducks, and it was only a case of borderline cannibalism. There was chili involved however.

The Narrows was an endeavor to bring waterskiing to the Mojave Desert so the rich and famous could frolic. That is if you consider going around a mile donut shaped watercourse frolic. It seems somewhat boring to me - apparently the rich and famous thought so too, because the enterprise went belly up and Mojave county took over the land and turned it into a park. Now folks can go there to fish.

The county stocks the lagoon with trout in the winter when the water is cool enough to support them. When summer comes on and the water gets too warm the county dumps in catfish. There are also some dinner plate sized largemouth Bass lurking in the shallow weedy waters. That is what drew my friend and me. I brought my son because I though it was time he learned about fishing and camping. He was the only one that caught a fish that weekend, something he has never let me forgot. He caught it using the same bait we were, chicken livers.

We had many of the chicken livers left over, so we dumped them into the water for the fish to eat. The fish never got the chance because the minute the livers hit the water the ducks gobbled them down thereby committing the borderline cannibalism. After watching feeding frenzy I wondered if the ducks were afraid to fall asleep at night for fear their pals might eat them.

We had some more chili for lunch the day we were leaving dumping the leftovers on the bank to see what the ducks would do. Just as in the case of the livers, the ducks got their snack on in a big way. They were rolling in it as they ate – one in particular stands out has it was a white duck. The white duck became a Robin impersonator after eating the chili; its breast had turned bright orange. My friend called it a “Chili Chicken” and the name stuck as a tag for all ducks from then on.

That, gentle reader, is how the night, actually weekend, of the borderline cannibal chili chicken liver eating ducks happened…